SINS of the Rex Book 2

by Emma Slate

  A beautiful blush stained Ash’s fair cheeks. “I don’t know. Maybe we should ask Jane Elliot the next time we see her. I’m dying to know what’s happened between her and Ramsey.”

  I giggled like a schoolgirl.

  “Don’t deny that you want to know, too.”

  “No denying here,” I assured her. “So have you made a list of the possible ways to keep us occupied while we’re in New York?”

  “I did.”

  “Do any of them include charity events?” I demanded.

  “My mother might have mentioned a few she thought I should attend.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “My life was pretty shallow,” she said softly. “How did we ever stay friends?”

  “Your life wasn’t shallow,” I protested.

  “Barrett,” she warned.

  “Fine. Maybe your life was a tad shallow—but you weren’t. That’s why we stayed friends.”

  “I’ve been thinking about something you mentioned way back when—about Lacey having an art show.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think I want to open an art gallery in Dornoch.”

  “Really?” I asked in surprise.

  She nodded. “I think it could be kind of great. It would give me a focus—something other than just becoming the wife of Duncan Buchanan and it would be a way for me to be in the community. Besides, it would absolutely help Lacey and I love her work. I’d love to showcase it. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” I said truthfully.

  Now what the hell was I going to do?

  Chapter 37

  I wiped the sweat out of my eyes and slapped my hand against the buttons on the treadmill. It began to slow to a cool down pace. I’d only been able to run a few miles. I was out of shape. Really out of shape. Having a baby had taken its toll on my body—not surprising or shocking. I hoped it didn’t take long to regain my strength and stamina.

  Still on my kick not to leave Hawk alone, I’d called down to the front desk and had someone bring up one of the state of the art treadmill machines from The Rex exercise club.

  I climbed off the machine and grabbed the towel hanging on one of the arms. I dragged it across my forehead as I waited for my breathing to return to normal. Running seemed to take the edge off my lingering anger. For the moment anyway.

  The hotel phone rang and I went to answer it. Simone at the front desk informed me that I had a visitor by the name of Sasha Petrovich. I told her to send him up.

  I hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the night we landed in New York. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see him now, but it seemed petty to refuse.

  As my head was in the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water, the elevator doors chimed open. I stood up and watched Sasha stroll into the living room, our eyes meeting. His gaze slowly swept down my body. I was in a sports bra and spandex shorts.

  He’d seen me in less.

  Clearing his throat, his gaze came back up to my face. “Sorry, I didn’t call.”

  “It’s okay.” I took a long swallow from the bottle of water while I waited for Sasha to explain why he was here.

  “How’s Hawk?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  He nodded.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “I wanted to check in on you,” he admitted. “I don’t like how we left things between us.”

  I sighed. “Do you want something to drink?”

  He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and shook his head. “I’m good.”

  We stood, neither one of us saying anything, the awkwardness between us growing. We’d never had awkwardness—not even after Sasha had videotaped me with Dolinsky. Why were we awkward now? We were at an impasse, I realized. Our relationship thus far had been me taking from him. It wasn’t fair and he didn’t deserve it.

  “I’m an awful person,” I said.

  “No,” he insisted. “You’re not.”

  “I hate how I treat you.”

  “I let you.”

  “You were right, though. That I use your feelings for me against you. I never would’ve dreamed of asking you to stay in Scotland with Flynn and Duncan if—”

  “Stop,” he begged. “I can’t take this. Not from you. It’s all gotten so fucked up, Barrett. Six months! I don’t hear from you for six months and then the moment you called, asking me for something, I came. I know I’m not your husband and I know you don’t love me, but I can’t keep being a masochist.”

  I nodded, my throat tight. Hawk cried, the sound of it filtering through the cracked door of the bedroom. Before I knew it, my feet were carrying me to him. Pure instinct. I changed him quickly and brought him out to the living room. Sasha had finally taken a seat on the couch, stretching out his legs in front of him.

  Hawk needed to be fed and I wanted to make him a bottle. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hold him while doing it.

  “I’ll hold him for you,” Sasha said when he saw my struggle.

  “You sure?”

  He nodded. I gently set Hawk into his arms. It made me pause for a moment, like when I saw Flynn or Duncan holding Hawk. Powerful men cradling a fragile baby always made my brain scramble.

  When I had Hawk’s bottle ready, I moved to take him back in my arms and feed him, but Sasha offered to do it so I could take a shower. I made sure it was fast, not wanting to take advantage of Sasha anymore than I already had.

  “Thanks,” I said, coming out into the living room, dressed in comfortable sweats. I reached for Hawk and Sasha gave him to me.

  “Oh, no,” I said with a chuckle, gesturing with my chin to Sasha’s shirt. “Looks like you’ve been Hawked.”

  Sasha frowned in confusion before his gaze found the wet splotch on his shirt. He chuckled. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a dishrag. I dampened it and then tossed it at him. Dabbing at the spot, he smeared it around, making it worse.

  “Give me your shirt,” I said. “I’ll have it laundered.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Please?” I asked quietly.

  Sasha sighed and then began to unbutton his shirt. He wore a black t-shirt underneath that strained over his chest. My eyes were riveted to Sasha’s sculpted muscles. Somehow, I’d never noticed. Had he always looked that way?

  Sasha gave me a wry grin as he set his shirt aside. He noticed me checking him out. Well, I was married, not dead. Suddenly, I ached for Flynn. I ached with need, wanting to feel him against me, moving inside of me.

  I dragged my eyes away from Sasha’s strong form and went to put Hawk in his bassinet in the living room.

  “So you’ve been working out?” Sasha asked lamely, gesturing to the treadmill.

  “Starting too,” I said. “But I don’t think it’s working.”

  “I think it’s working,” he replied.

  I let out a laugh. “Thanks. I think. No, I mean, the exercise helps, but I’m still angry.”

  He frowned. “Angry?”

  “Yeah.”

  “About…”

  “Everything,” I finally admitted. “Hawk’s kidnapping. Arlington’s betrayal. Winters. Myself.” I didn’t mention Flynn even though he was part of the list.

  “Have you told Campbell how you’ve been feeling?” he prodded.

  “No. He’s got enough to worry about. I don’t want to add to it.”

  “I kickbox,” he said, changing the subject. “It helps when I’m in a mood.”

  “Kickboxing,” I repeated. Maybe that would help me and my homicidal rage. I snorted with laughter. It wasn’t funny. Not even a little.

  “You want to train with me? I’d be glad to help.”

  And just like that, I knew where Sasha and I stood.

  I put Hawk into his sling, his weight comfortable against my body. After calling down to my bodyguard who was stationed in the lobby, I headed for the elevator. Taking a deep breath, I realized how much I needed to get out of the penthouse.

  My bodyguard, a jacked guy
with a crew cut named Nathan, greeted me when the elevator doors opened.

  The lobby, decorated in old world tones and furniture, wasn’t overly crowded with guests. I breathed a sigh of relief. Living in Dornoch this past many months had changed me.

  “Where to?” Nathan asked.

  “Just to the club,” I said, pointing in the direction of Rex Burlesque.

  He nodded and then proceeded to stick to me like glue. I wasn’t usually a fan of bodyguards, but I was glad for Nathan’s looming, muscly presence. The man was downright gallant as he opened the club door for me.

  The club wasn’t yet set up for the evening show. Chairs were stacked on tables and a bunch of boxes littered the top of the bar.

  “You bitch.”

  I turned at the sound of the voice and grinned. A woman of Asian descent, tall, and gorgeous strolled towards me on clacketty heels.

  “You’ve been in New York a week and I have yet to see you,” she said.

  “Yeah, well, I’ve been busy.”

  She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and then her gaze dropped to the bundle resting against me. “Busy,” she agreed, her smiled wide.

  I pulled back the sling to reveal Hawk’s sleeping face.

  “God, he’s adorable!” Alia said. “I want to scoop him up and eat him.” She looked at Nathan who stood on guard by the doors. “Who’s that?” she whispered.

  “My protection,” I said. “You know Flynn…”

  “Hmm. Sexy protective Mr. Campbell. He didn’t come to New York with you?”

  “He had some things to take care of in Dornoch,” I said evasively. Though Alia had been brought into the fold about the casino and the brothel, she didn’t know the true reason they existed. We thought it safer for her not to know about Flynn’s political affiliations.

  She and I made our way to the middle of three booths and sat down. It was Flynn’s booth, where he used to sit to survey his club and watch the dancers. I shivered, remembering a time when Flynn and I had fought our attraction to each other.

  The result of that attraction was sleeping in my arms.

  “You know, photos just don’t do him justice,” Alia said when she was seated across from me. Even though I’d moved to Scotland, I’d kept up with Alia, sending her photos and emails. We chatted as much as we could, but due to the time change and our schedules, it had been difficult. Still, our friendship picked up right where it left off. Good friends were like that, and it was important to keep them close.

  “I know. I’m also terrible with the camera. I want Lacey to take some photos of him.”

  “That’s a good idea. She’s so freakin’ talented. I’m bummed she no longer works here, but good for her for moving in another direction.”

  “And good for you,” I teased. “Ms. Manager. How are you liking it?”

  “Love it.”

  “You don’t miss dancing?” I asked her.

  She shrugged. “Kind of. But change is good, right?”

  “Is that who I think it is?” a male voice called.

  I turned my head and grinned. Alia’s handsome fiancé set down a box of liquor and rushed over to us. He leaned down to give me a hug, but it was awkward due to Hawk in his sling.

  “Is this the little monster?” Jake asked, a devilish grin on his lips.

  “The one and only.”

  Jake took a seat next to Alia and wrapped his arm around her. “Did you tell Barrett yet?” he asked.

  “No, not yet.”

  My gaze darted between them. “Well, tell me!”

  “We set a wedding date,” Alia said.

  “Finally,” Jake added.

  Alia rolled her eyes at me. “Men. They have no idea what goes in to planning a wedding.”

  “You pick a date and then I show up,” Jake said. “How hard is that?”

  I shrugged. “I let Flynn handle all the details of our wedding. Granted, it was an elopement, so it was easier. I was grateful for that. So, when is your wedding?”

  “Two weeks from now,” Alia said.

  “Two weeks from now?” I looked at her in shock. “But how—”

  “We’re keeping it simple,” Alia interjected. “A friend of ours is officiating. Gavin’s good friend, Annie, is a chef and she’s taking care of the food. She’s amazing. We’re keeping the wedding small. It’s an early evening ceremony and then we have cocktail hour.”

  “We just want to be married,” Jake said. “And celebrate with our close friends and family.”

  “So, will you come?” Alia asked.

  Chapter 38

  “You’re sure you’re okay doing this?” I asked Lacey.

  She grinned. “Are you kidding?”

  “No, I’m serious.” My eyes scanned her face, my worry evident. Tremors began to shake through me when I thought of leaving Hawk.

  “We’ll be fine. I promise. Ash is coming over to help me. Your bodyguard is down in the lobby and Sasha himself is coming to get you.”

  I let out a breath and nodded. I’d hardly slept the night before. The dreams were back full throttle. They seemed to abate when Flynn was next to me though they never disappeared completely.

  “It will be good for you,” Lacey said softly. She fiddled with her high-tech camera before holding it up and looked at me through the lens. She snapped a few test shots and then looked at them.

  “Honey, I don’t mean to be a bitch, but you’ve got to start sleeping.”

  “The bags are bad, huh?” I asked knowingly.

  “Yeah, they are.”

  Well, at least I had a friend who valued the truth. She’d never lie to me.

  My cell phone buzzed, and it was a text from Sasha letting me know he was in the lobby. I grabbed my keys and workout bag and with one last look-in on Hawk, I left.

  The private elevator doors chimed open, and I stepped out into the lobby. With a wave at Nathan, I hurried over to Sasha who sat on a cream colored chair while waiting for me.

  “No spandex today?” Sasha asked with a glance at my more concealing workout clothing.

  “Nope. Let’s go.”

  He attempted to take my workout bag from me, but I clutched it in my hand. It wasn’t heavy, so it wasn’t necessary for Sasha to carry it. I appreciated his old world manners, but at the moment they were unwarranted.

  We stepped outside into the cold weather but before the low temperature registered, Sasha had the back passenger door open to the black Subaru. I climbed into the warmth and set my bag on the floor. Sasha got in next to me and shut the door. A moment later we pulled away from the curb and headed for Sasha’s home.

  “I never told you where I lived, did I?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “I bought an old meatpacking building on Gansevoort and had it converted.”

  For some reason, his announcement surprised me. It was a trendy neighborhood and I wouldn’t have guessed the large open floor plans of warehouse architecture would appeal to Sasha.

  Traffic was surprising light, and we made it to the west side quickly. The driver pulled into an underground garage and parked. I hopped out of the car and followed Sasha to an elevator. He pressed the button and the elevator doors opened immediately. We got inside and he fished out his keys and stuck one into the PH hole. We zoomed to the top floor, and the doors opened into a hallway.

  “Why only one door?” I asked while Sasha stuck his key into the lock.

  “Safety,” he said.

  “But what about the rest of the building? How do you get access to it?”

  He glanced at me and smiled. “You’ll see.” He pushed the front door open, and I followed him inside his abode.

  Large windows along the far wall let in a massive amount of light, but they had nothing—nothing—on the skylight that took up half the ceiling.

  I craned my neck and gawked. “How do you keep it cool in here in summer?” I asked.

  Sasha closed the front door and went to a keypad on the wall next to it. He pressed a
few buttons and there was the sound of gears and whirls. A canvas stretched over the skylight and instantly the lighting of the room changed.

  “Nifty,” I admitted.

  “I’m pretty proud of it. Come on, I’ll take you on a tour.”

  The floor was basically one open room connecting the kitchen and living room. The wall opposite of the large windows was exposed brick. It was a lot homier than I expected.

  “Ready to see the rest of it?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Grab your gym bag.”

  I trailed after him as we made our way to a spiral iron staircase. It reminded me of a fireman’s pole.

  “If you take these stairs up, it goes to the master bedroom. Take them down, you’ll get to the gym.”

  I held onto the rail as we climbed down. Automatic lights illuminated the way as we descended until we got into the gym. Sasha flipped a switch and overhead lights came on.

  Mats graced the floor and a kickboxing bag hung in the corner. There were weights and exercise machines that I’d never seen before. A few windows made it less tomb-like, but it didn’t have the open, airy quality of the main living floor.

  “You have everything you need a few steps away, huh?” I teased.

  He grinned back. “You live in a hotel,” he reminded me. “You can call the front desk and they’ll do anything you want.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty good,” I admitted. I tossed my gym bag into the corner and looked at Sasha. “Okay. You going to teach me to channel this rage, or what?”

  An hour later, I collapsed onto the mats in a sweaty, heaving mess. I groaned in tiredness, but I finally felt the release of some of my anger.

  “You’re not sleeping,” Sasha commented.

  I tilted my head so I could see him. Part of me registered his ripped arms and chiseled legs as he lifted a water bottle and took a drink. The other part of me, the reasonable part of me, shut it down. Quickly.

  “No,” I admitted. “I’m not sleeping. I was, right when I first got back to New York, but not anymore.”

  “Why not? Your anger issues?”

  “Nightmares,” I said quietly. “I have nightmares.”

  “You talk to anyone about them?”