What They Call Sin

by Philippa Grey-Gerou

  The gasping keen of her chant changed, accelerating, rising, and he felt her tighten around him as her hips slammed into his. He allowed his own restraint to fall away, and the ecstasy of friction and heat and emotion overwhelmed him as he exploded with a roar, planting his seeds deep within her quivering womb. She continued moving as the last of her orgasm released her, twisting and rubbing to gather up each last sensation. Finally she collapsed, sated, and he rolled off of her to slump on the rug next to her, his breath coming in huge moaning gasps.

  They didn't look at each other, didn't touch or speak for long moments. Finally she rolled up on her side, tracing between the scratches on his chest with one light finger. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

  He glanced down at the wound. “Hardly feel it. What about you?” He caressed the two half moon marks on her breast.

  "It's tender,” she admitted.

  He leaned forward to kiss it gently. “I'm sorry. I don't know...” But he stopped himself. He did know. He knew exactly what had come over him.

  "Don't.” She refused to let him continue. “We both lost ourselves for a while there. And it was violent, and scary,” he pulled her down to comfort her against his chest, “but we're back now. It was something necessary. Catharsis."

  He kissed the top of her head gingerly. “Still doesn't give me the right to hurt you, love."

  "I hurt you, too. I was just ... so angry all of a sudden. And there you were for me to take it all out on.” She looked up at him. “I'm really sorry. For hurting you. I didn't mean to go that far..."

  "Stop apologizing,” he ground out. “You were only responding to what I initiated. You should have stopped me. Shouldn't let me take my crap out on you."

  She shook her head in denial. “You needed it. We needed it. Besides,” she confessed with a blush, “it was exciting."

  He pulled her up and gently devoured her mouth, pouring all his love and devotion into the soft gesture. When he pulled his head away, it was all he could do to keep words of adoration from spilling out of his mouth. Instead, he said hoarsely, “I understand if you want to go home now."

  "Now, we're just going to lay here and rest.” She wrapped an arm around his waist, weaving one leg over and through his as she nestled against his shoulder. “In a few minutes, you're going to pick me up and carry me into your comfortable bed and make love to me like you promised. After that, we'll have something to eat.” She peered up at him impishly. “I got extra barbecue sauce."

  He kissed her again, communicating with her in the best way he was able.

  Chapter 22

  Henry Masters’ Harvest reception was one of the premiere events in the life of the New York branch of McDaniels Polk and Marks. All the partners and their spouses attended, as well as significant and prestigious clients and the shining lights of the firm who were on a fast track to partnership. To be invited was a mark of honor and recognition. To refuse was career suicide.

  Masters lived in a penthouse apartment on Fifth Avenue looking out across the park. This wasn't a run of the mill penthouse, with four apartments to the floor for the top four floors of the building. Masters’ home was rivaled only by the likes of the now deceased Kennedys for size, opulence and exclusivity. He actually had room to host a sit-down dinner for a hundred people and have dancing afterwards.

  The night air was brisk as Gabriel handed Lindy out of the cab at the private entrance Masters commanded for his use. She pulled the velvet beaded wrap closer around her shoulders to ward off the chill while Gabriel guided her inside, glancing around to see who was arriving with them. His hand was once again possessively resting at the small of her back, but she ignored it.

  She knew she was dressed to please another eye tonight. The silk and velvet dress Michael was already familiar with. She wore her hair down like he liked it, carefully curled and pinned back at the nape of her neck with an antique looking silver and marcasite hair clip. A delicate lace necklace lay across her throat, the diamonds glowing like soft fire as she moved. Her mouth matched the crimson of her dress.

  They were joined in the elevator on the way up by several other couples. The lawyers in the group quickly fell to talking shop, leaving their spouses to wait patiently for the elevator doors to open and disgorge them into the heart of the party.

  In the private lobby, they handed coats and wraps to the waiting attendants before being ushered through the large carved doors and into the apartment.

  The place was filled with people elegantly dressed, milling about sharing hors d'oeuvres and drinks and good conversation. Despite the formal dress and the status of their host, everyone seemed to be enjoying an almost holiday-like atmosphere. The lights were soft without making the room dark, and quiet string music wove its way through the conversation from a chamber quartet set up near the verandah windows. Servers moved among the guests with trays of food and drink glasses. Everything was elegant and sophisticated.

  Both Lindy and Gabriel scanned the room, he looking for targets, she for familiar black curls. Michael had been invited as recognition for his work on the Robartsmaan diversification as well as a courtesy extended to all the foreign employees working in the local office. Masters considered it a benevolence to those who gave up time with their families to come to New York and work for his office.

  Lindy had knots in her stomach about the first encounter between the three of them. After the last meeting of her husband, herself and her lover, and the subsequent backlash, she felt she had a right to be nervous. But that had been a surprise. This time, both she and Michael were braced for it, prepared to play casual acquaintances.

  And not dripping in each other's sweat.

  "Stevens!” A warm, rattly voice hailed them, and they both turned to see Henry Masters approaching them, hand extended in welcome. He was a tall man, probably older than his apparent late fifties. The wrinkles of age had settled in his forehead between his eyes, giving him a sense of scowling even when he was smiling broadly. His bald head was smooth and only slightly peppered with age spots. He had his arm around a comely young brunette in a black Vera Wang. She looked to be Lindy's age, meaning she was at least half Masters’ years. “I was wondering if you were going to show,” the senior attorney said, gripping Gabriel's hand firmly. “Rumor had it you were trying to find a way to escape my devilish clutches. Hello, Lindy. It's a delight to see you, my dear.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  "We had planned to be on our anniversary trip this week,” Gabriel explained. “But things with the diversification didn't go as well as we might have hoped."

  "Oh, piffle. You and Fitzwilliam have done a marvelous job. I've heard nothing but good reports from all quarters."

  "Well, thank you, sir. I appreciate it."

  "Let me introduce my wife, Sophia.” Masters presented the young woman. “Sophia, this is Gabriel and Lindy Stevens. Gabriel, as you can tell, is one of my best litigators. And Lindy is ... an artist, isn't it, my dear?"

  "Yes, sir.” Lindy was actually surprised that he remembered. But the man didn't get where he was by ignoring the small details.

  "Art, huh?” Sophia looked intrigued. “That must be an exciting life."

  "I actually haven't done much with it for a while. But I'm starting to get back into it. It's very satisfying."

  "Good for you, my dear! A woman needs her hobbies, eh, Stevens?” The two men laughed, while the young women met eyes in a moment of exasperated solidarity.

  "Ah!” Masters looked over their shoulders to the door. “Here's the other half of the dynamic duo! Fitzwilliam! Come and say hello!"

  Lindy held her breath as she turned to look on him for the first time. She could hear Sophia draw in an appreciative gasp as well.

  The man looked good.

  He wore his hair loosely slicked back, teasing her eye with a hint of the curls she loved to tangle her fingers through. He was dressed entirely in black, a black silk shirt under the box-cut jacket of the tuxedo she had seen him in bef
ore. Even the tie he wore was black. On his feet he wore high polish dress shoes. A wicked part of Lindy's mind wondered if he could see up her skirt with those.

  Masters introduced him to the ladies.

  "Miss James and I met yesterday actually, Henry. I've been looking forward to renewing the acquaintance."

  "I'm not surprised,” Masters smirked. “She's a delightful young woman!"

  Gabriel put his around her. “I've always thought so."

  She saw Michael's eyes narrow, but before he could respond, Masters was going on. “Where's your young lady, though, Fitzwilliam? Surely you didn't come stag."

  "I'm afraid I did.” He pulled his eyes away from Lindy. “I don't know many women willing to endure an evening with a large group of lawyers, no mater what my charms may be."

  "Well, that I can believe. God, we're a dreary lot!” Masters chuckled. “Sophia, take Rogue and introduce him to some of the single ladies. We can't have such a handsome prize going unclaimed. I think Martin brought his daughter Lydia tonight."

  Sophia released her husband's arm to claim Michael's, leading him off into the room without a glance back. Lindy felt a twinge of envy as he dropped his head to whisper something into the brunette's ear that made her laugh and lay a second hand on his arm.

  "And you two!” Masters went on. “Come in and mingle! Have a good time. You've earned it.” And he moved off to greet more arrivals.

  Lindy meekly allowed Gabriel to escort her into the party.

  They mingled in the worst sense of the word. Gabriel singled out co-workers from whom he wanted something or might need something in the future. Lindy was forced to make painful small talk with their wives while Gabriel worked his own brand of intimidation and ingratiation on his peers. But Lindy's eyes kept roaming the room, lighting on Michael's dark head as a touchstone to get through the evening.

  Gabriel had stopped to talk with a knot of people at the bar, allowing Lindy to drift back a bit. Her eyes had just begun to do another circuit of the room when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

  She turned to look into the chocolate brown eyes of Kathleen Fallon.

  "Kath!” Lindy threw her arms around the brunette in joyous greeting. “I didn't expect to see you here tonight! How do you always manage to show up at these parties just when I need a distraction most?"

  "It's a gift.” Her eyes twinkled as brightly as the garnets at her throat. Her dress was a close fitting sheath in iridescent copper sheer over a burgundy underlayer. The hem hung in a ragged handkerchief cut, making her look for all the world like a colorful fall leaf. More garnets, the match to the ones around her neck, crossed her foot to hold the delicate sole of her shoe in place. “Actually,” she went on, “I've been seeing Garret Ng in Contracts off and on for the last year, and when he invited me to a Masters party...” Kathleen's words broke off when she realized Lindy was looking everywhere in the room except at her. “What are you looking at?"

  "What? No one!” Lindy brought her attention back to Kathleen. “I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

  "Honey, Gabriel's standing not twenty feet behind you."

  "I wasn't...” she blushed furiously.

  Kathleen's jaw dropped in open mouthed, and highly staged, shock. “Oh. My. God! He's here, isn't he?” Her voice dropped to a hush. “Your indiscretion?"

  Lindy nodded slightly, looking around defensively.

  "Lindy Anne James. You little trollop!” She linked arms with her and began scanning the crowd as well. “Which one is he?"

  Together they searched the room. Lindy finally found him, standing near the quartet with a group of people he seemed to know, discussing something with great animation. He seemed to feel her eyes on him and looked in her direction. She smiled softly, and she saw him excuse himself from the group and come towards them. Kathleen just watched him, sizing him up. She squeezed Lindy's arm. “I take back everything I've ever said about your taste in men."

  He stopped almost too close to Lindy for propriety's sake, but she couldn't bring herself to complain and didn't step away.

  "Kathleen,” Lindy performed the introductions, “I'd like you to meet Rogue Fitzwilliam. I've told Kathleen a lot about you,” she directed the last to Michael.

  "Not anywhere near enough,” Kath denied, presenting her hand.

  "Michael,” Lindy went on, “may I present my very good friend Kathleen Fallon. Kath is the one I went to the gallery opening with last night.” She hoped the hint was strong enough for him to realize that this was their benefactor.

  She could tell by the look in his eye that he did as he took Kath's hand. But Kath obviously didn't. “Gallery opening? What..."

  "Lindy's told me about your sudden obsession with art,” he explained smoothly turning on the charm that melted Lindy's knees when he directed it at her. “I know Lindy has appreciated all the opportunities you have provided her over the last couple of weeks. She's told me she finds it ... deeply satisfying."

  "Can I keep him?” Kathleen whimpered.

  He chuckled richly. “Sounds nice, pet, but I'm already spoken for. And speaking of which,” he turned to Lindy, “could I have a word with you in private?"

  Lindy's skin trembled at the tenor of his voice. “Of course. Excuse me,” she said to Kathleen as she allowed him to guide her from the main room into a nearby hallway, dimly lit to discourage guests.

  His mouth was heavy and warm as it settled over hers, and she sighed in relief at the contact, her hands resting on his solid shoulders, grateful she had chosen the semi-permanent lip color tonight so there would be no evidence of their indiscretion. There was a soft decadence to the kiss, as though they had all the time in the world to enjoy it. He curled his arms around her waist and shoulders, drawing her against his body as he leaned back against the wall. She rubbed her torso firmly but undemandingly against his and was rewarded with a contented purr. As their mouths continued their unhurried play, his hand drifted up to toy with her curls, and she knew he was fighting the same instinct she had to bury fingers in hair and hold on for dear life. But it was too early in the evening to be disheveled, so they both fought for restraint.

  After what seemed like a blissful eternity, they finally separated. He looked down into her eyes, his own dark pools of liquid cobalt that reflected the contentment she knew he saw in her. “Hey,” he said quietly.

  For some reason, that made her blush. “Hey yourself."

  "You look amazing tonight.” His hands coasted over the back of her dress, following her curves with his palms.

  "You look very yummy yourself.” She rested her head on his chest with a smile. “I think Kathleen is still hyperventilating."

  He chuckled. “Am I right in thinking she's our guardian angel?” Lindy nodded. “I'll have to be sure to thank her."

  "Just be careful.” She lifted her head to smile wickedly at him. “She might expect you to repay her in kind."

  "I'll try to resist. I have good incentive.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead.

  Reluctantly, she shifted back to her own support. “We should probably get back. I don't want to be missed."

  He slipped his hands into his pocket. “Yeah."

  She saw the tension that suddenly filled him and laid a hand on his arm. “Are you alright?"

  "I'm fine, pet. No worries.” He took her arm and drew her back. “Just bring me down every once in a while, yeah?” and he dropped a soul searing kiss on her lips.

  When he lifted his head, she smiled. “Bring you down, huh? That usually gets you up."

  "You are a vixen, you know that?"

  "So I've been told."

  He gave her a gentle shove. “Go on. But I'll be watching you."

  "Promise?"

  "Promise."

  "Good. Then you won't be watching all the women Masters and his child bride try to set you up with."

  He smirked. “Jealous?"

  She stuck her tongue out at him and turned back into the party, his throaty laugh following her as she went.
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  Chapter 23

  Kathleen was waiting for Lindy when the blonde came back into the reception. “Are you insane?” she hissed, taking Lindy by the arm and leading her quickly into another part of the party. “That is so not the way to be discreet!"

  "Was Gabriel looking for me?” She looked to where she had left her husband. He was still there, deeply engrossed in conversation.

  "That doesn't mean someone else isn't going to notice you,” Kath chided her. “God, Lindy, do you want to get caught?"

  "Of course not!” Lindy protested. “We weren't doing anything."

  Kathleen studied her critically. Finally she said, “You've changed a lot in a week."

  "Do you approve?"

  "I'm not sure,” she replied honestly. “I think I'll have to talk to the catalyst first."

  Lindy was about to protest when the chime of metal against crystal rang out. Everyone in the room turned to see Henry Masters standing in the doorway to the dining room. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he pronounced, “dinner is served."

  The milling crowd now had direction, and the couples all paired up to be escorted in. Garret claimed Kath with a smile, but Kathleen's expression was stern. “We aren't done with this."

  Lindy kissed her cheek and turned to take Gabriel's arm.

  Masters was nothing if not a conscientious host. He wanted to be sure everyone had someone at their table they could talk to. Which meant that he sat Michael at the same table as his closest co-worker here in the States. Gabriel.

  Lindy's heart started pounding as Gabriel held her chair for her. The place cards told the tale. She would be spending the next two hours sitting between husband and lover. How was she going to be able to keep from giving anything away?

  Michael arrived in the company of a statuesque young blonde and a portly older gentleman. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the seating arrangement, but he said nothing. Instead, he offered introductions. “Alastair, Lydia, may I introduce Gabriel Stevens and his wife, Lindy James. Gabriel works for Henry in Intellectual Property. This is Alastair Martin and his daughter Lydia. Alastair is in security, while Lydia is a professor at CUNY."