The Secret (The Evolution Of Sin Book 2) Page 14

  “Companionship is the greatest treasure in life,” he said.

  Sebastian’s answering grin was glorious. “I assure you, Mr. Paulson, I do not lack for companionship.”

  The older man’s face twisted with disgust. “True companionship is about loyalty and commitment. It does not come and go as the changing of the tide.”

  “Not the best analogy,” Seb winced theatrically. “The waves always kiss the shore.”

  The two men stared at each other but I couldn’t take my eyes off Elena whose lips were so pursed, I wondered if I put coal between them, they would produce a diamond.

  “Paulson, I see you’ve met Giselle and Sebastian,” Sinclair said as he stepped slightly in front of Sebastian to shake the businessman’s hand.

  I hid my smile behind my hand as my brother glowered at the back of Sin’s head.

  “Yes, yes, it’s good of you to bring your fiancée’s family to an event like this. It’s important to have your support system beside you,” Paulson said with a broad smile that brought out surprisingly charming dimples in his cheeks.

  He was definitely a man stuck in the 1950s but he did seem to genuinely like Sinclair.

  “Fiancée,” Sinclair murmured softly.

  Elena fidgeted nervously and it was obvious that I wasn’t the only one who knew he spoke quietly when he was upset.

  Paulson was pleasantly oblivious. “Yes, yes, though I have to say you’re making it an awfully long engagement. I had my wife at the alter before she could change her mind, let me tell you.” He guffawed.

  Sinclair smiled slightly but when Elena placed a hand on his arm, his entire body stiffened.

  “Pauly, please don’t tell me you are embarrassing me again,” a surprisingly young woman protested in a brassy Brooklyn accent.

  Mrs. Paulson was maybe forty, at least fifteen years younger than her husband, with long dark permed hair and acrylic nails painted a vivid red that matched her lipstick. Though her dress was the same demure silver as her husband’s suit, it was obvious that she was rough around the edges, not born into the same stock as most of the other guests in the room. I instantly liked her.

  “Never,” Paulson assured her, with a dramatic wink before introducing Teresa to the rest of us.

  I watched him tuck her firmly into his side, how she placed her hand over his heart as if it was meant to be there. I sighed, long and gustily, before I could help it. Seb elbowed me gently and I realized that she was saying something to me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re Giselle Lombardi, the artist,” she repeated, her brown eyes wide with excitement. “Sinclair told me how wonderful you were and I just had to look you up. I would be over the moon if you’d do a commission for Pauly and me.”

  I really didn’t have the time with the showcase coming up but I understood how much it would mean to Sinclair to make the couple happy and I was delighted that he had taken the time to mention me to them.

  “I would be honored, thank you Mrs. Paulson.”

  Her laugh was brassy and, I thought, awesome. “Terry, please. We must be on familiar terms if you are going to paint me.”

  Elena hid her smile behind her hand and even though it was studied to look like a subtle gesture, it drew the eye of everyone in our little group.

  “Is something funny?” Terry asked.

  My sister waved her hand airily. “It’s nothing really.”

  But I recognized the sharp edges in that lady-like smile and my stomach cramped, because I knew what was coming.

  “No really, what is it?”

  Elena sighed. “If you really want to know, I just thought it was funny because Giselle’s upcoming collection is a series of nudes.”

  The Paulsons both turned their heads to me in tandem. If I hadn’t been about to vomit, it might have been kind of funny.

  The men – Sebastian, Cage and Sinclair – were all frowning at Elena with varying degrees of condemnation but it was the latter who wrapped a strong hand around her wrist in warning.

  She didn’t heed it.

  “Yes, I know, that was exactly my reaction at first. It might make more sense if you understand the theme. It’s about sexual perversions,” she explained, as if a plus b equaled c.

  “Elena,” Sebastian gasped.

  Cage just shook his head in disgust.

  Mr. Paulson looked at me with unmitigated horror.

  I had never seen Sinclair so still, his entire body hard as marble with restraint. One more wrong word, one breath released the wrong way, and he would shatter into a terrifying fury.

  Terry looked at me for a long time. I waited without breathing for her to berate me, to laugh or even turn on her heel in disgust. But she just looked at me until I felt dizzy.

  Then she did the most interesting thing.

  She tilted her head to the side, squinted her eyes and threw back her head in raucous, completely genuine laughter. No one moved an inch as she laughed and laughed and clapped her red-tipped hands.

  “How wonderful! How does one paint sexual perversions? I imagine it’s something like Fifty Shades of Grey but done in paint,” she said, laughter still bouncing through her speech. “I have to admit that I usually find art kind of,” her nose wrinkled adorably, “stodgy but I could definitely sink my teeth into something like that, couldn’t I, Pauly?”

  To my shock and mild horror, Mr. Paulson blushed like a schoolboy and patted his wife on the arm. “I’m sure you could, darling.”

  “Tell me,” she leaned forward to stage whisper. “Would you be willing to paint me like that?”

  It took me a few seconds to find my voice again but I could feel Cage and Seb at my back like the warmth from a fire and it filled me with confidence.

  “I would be absolutely delighted. And, to tell you the honest truth,” I leaned forward with my hand over my mouth, imitating her dramatics, “I think art can be pretty boring too.”

  Terry laughed. “My God, you are a treasure. I’m going to give you my card and you, you amazing girl, are going to promise to call me no later than tomorrow to make an appointment with me.”

  “I promise,” I said solemnly though my eyes sparkled back at her.

  She nodded decisively and patted Mr. Paulson over the heart. “Good. Well, I’m sorry to pull my handsome husband away but I fancy a dance before we get dragged into another business discussion so, if you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all,” Sinclair said, inclining his head.

  Terry laughed at him and actually reached up to pat his cheek. “So polite, Mr. Sinclair, but I see the trouble buttoned up under your coat.”

  She winked at me as Mr. Paulson said his goodbyes.

  We were all quiet for a moment after they left before we turned on each other.

  “Are you fucking kidding me, Elena?” Sebastian said, rounding on her with clenched fists.

  “Me?” she asked, her eyes wide with faux sincerity. “What did I do wrong? In fact, I think Giselle should thank me. I just secured her a commission.”

  Even I gasped at that.

  Sinclair dropped her arm as if it were a poisonous thing and looked down at her with cool censure. “Giselle’s grace just secured her the commission as well you know. You tried to make her feel little, non?”

  Elena opened her mouth to protest but Cage cut in, “Karma’s a bitch, uh Elena?”

  Her lips pursed with delicate displeasure but her eyes flashed as they swept over me, striking me with the force of a tiger’s paw. I stepped back as pain radiated through my chest.

  “Daniel, I really didn’t mean anything by it.” She looked up at him from under her lashes. It wasn’t until that moment that fury took root in my heart. Was she really going to try to bamboozle him out of his anger?

  I vibrated.

  Cage put a hand on my arm to calm me. I was surprised when it helped a little.

  “I don’t care what you intended,” I said before Sinclair could completely lose what little resolve he had left to keep calm.
“Either way, it was a thoughtless thing to say. I am not painting sexual perversions and if you feel that way about my work, please keep it to yourself or, at the very least, don’t speak about it with potential patrons.”

  She stared at me with storm cloud eyes just a few shades darker than my own and I stared right back. It was the first time I had really stood up to her passive aggressiveness and it felt scary but really good.

  Finally, she gave a little nod and said, “Of course, Giselle, whatever you want.”

  It wasn’t really an apology but I nodded anyway before turning to Cage and Sebastian. “Well, I think we’ve had enough of tonight, don’t you?”

  Sebastian laughed softly and slung an arm over my shoulder. “Hell yeah.”

  “We’ll see you Thursday for Thanksgiving though,” Elena reminded us sharply as we began to walk away.

  “Oh goody,” Sebastian murmured drolly and we walked out laughing even though we had both left our hearts in the Four Seasons ballroom.

  Chapter Eleven.

  My heart was beating like a mad thing in my chest, hammering against the ribbed walls almost painfully.

  It was finally Tuesday.

  Sure, it would probably be the last night I would ever spend with him but I was grateful for the closure and maybe just the teeniest bit hopeful that it wouldn’t be the end.

  I smiled at my reflection, pleased to find the Giselle I had unearthed in Mexico smiling back at me. My entire day had been decadent, mostly thanks to Candy who had insisted on a girl’s day at the spa. I had been steamed, plucked, manicured, pedicured and, for the first time in my life, waxed bare. I’d run my hands over the ultra sensitive flesh as I pulled on my carefully selected lingerie, art nouveau inspired high waisted satin panties and a balconette that barely contained my breasts. My waves were brushed out until they gleamed, the usual mascara and blush was applied and I had anointed my pulse points with lavender oil, knowing how much Sinclair enjoyed the scent on me.

  It was fun to take a day to pamper myself and it wasn’t something I would have done even six months ago. So, I made a promise to myself that even if this was my last night with Sinclair, I wouldn’t let it impact the positive changes his presence had made on me.

  But I also promised myself that I wouldn’t ruin the night with heaviness and questions and even though I was so incandescently happy that I felt like I could float into space like a rising star, there was no accounting for how the night would evolve and I wanted to be prepared.

  I was just putting on some music after finally deciding between John Legend and Nora Jones, when my phone vibrated violently and fell off the kitchen counter.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m sorry, I was so nervous I had to call! Is he there yet?” Candy’s voice chirped through the phone as if she was yelling in my ear.

  “Obviously not, or I wouldn’t have answered.”

  “Right,” she paused sagely. “So, what’s up?”

  “Candy!” I laughed. “Why are you bothering me?”

  “Oh come on, it’s not like you don’t need the distraction. He isn’t due for another fifteen minutes and don’t you dare tell me you haven’t already fluffed the pillows, plumped up the girls and turned on some sultry tunes. I bet you’re practically itching with restless anticipation.”

  She wasn’t wrong, so I sighed and flopped down on the mahogany leather loveseat in the living room so I could keep an eye on the door.

  “I fluffed the pillows twice actually.”

  She snorted. “I don’t doubt it. This is your big chance to show him that you’re the right choice. It’s a pretty big deal.”

  I hummed into the phone but a niggling question kept popping into my head. “Candy? How do you know I’m the right choice? I don’t even know if I believe that.”

  “Oh, Elle, I know your naivety is part of your wonderful charm but I do wish you could see yourself the way other people do. You are, I don’t know,” she huffed, “lovely. Just natural and kind and charming. Everything that Sinclair has a hard time emulating.”

  It was my turn to snort. “I’ve completely fucked up his life.”

  “Well, yeah, that too,” she agreed cheerfully. “But in a good way.”

  “This conversation is giving me a headache.”

  “Really? I think it will be the highlight of my night.”

  “Maybe we should spend more time talking about your love life then.” I paused. “I saw you dancing with Cage at the gala.”

  There was a long stretch of silence. I stared at my pale lavender manicure while I waited.

  “That’s an entirely different can of worms,” she said finally. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m fantastic. But Cage is going to be an American rock star, and he will never think of me as anything besides Candy Kay, Sinclair’s trusty side kick.”

  I wanted to argue with her but the thing was, I didn’t want to lie either and I wasn’t sure if Cage ever would see Candy in a romantic light. Truthfully, I had seen him look at Elena with more passion than he had ever expressed with Candy.

  “Wow, now that I’ve finished being a Debbie downer, tell me what you’re wearing.”

  I almost choked on my laughter. “You helped me pick them out this afternoon!”

  “Right, damn. Okay, you are officially no fun. I’m going to get back to my riveting night of Netflix binge watching and rabid popcorn eating.”

  “What show is it tonight?” I asked through my chuckle.

  “The new season of House of Cards. Is it wrong that I think Frank Underwood is a total hunk?”

  “Cage and Frank Underwood? You have eclectic taste, I’ll give you that.”

  She snorted. “Yours is better.”

  A brisk knock at the door struck my heart into a staccato beat. I jumped up from the couch and was halfway to the door before I realized I was still on with Candy.

  “It is,” I agreed, already beaming as I hung up and swung open the red door.

  Sinclair was smiling too. My favorite smile, the one that curved his cheeks and broke the ice in his blue eyes so that they flooded with warmth. We stood staring at each other like that for a long time and even though I felt stupid just standing there staring at the too-good-to-be-true man in front of me, I was too giddy to care because he was doing the exact same thing.

  “Hi,” I finally said, a little breathlessly.

  “Hi.” His grin deepened. “Are you going to invite me in?”

  “Yes, of course.” I blushed, which made him chuckle, which, of course, made me flush even further.

  We had been alone together for thirty seconds and it was already the best night of my life.

  I stepped to the side as he moved into the apartment and inhaled deeply when he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to my cheek. I pressed my hand to his chest, felt the beat beneath my splayed fingers and grinned up into his face.

  “Can I say that I’m so happy you’re here?”

  Sinclair’s face was neutral again, perfectly held in repose more beautiful than Michelangelo’s David but his eyes gleamed with contentment.

  “Only if I can say it back.”

  I tipped my head back and laughed. “God, that was cheesy.”

  One of his dark brows arched. “Oh, really?”

  His hand slipped between my breasts, down my belly and around to the base of my spine where he flattened it, pulling me against his groin. I groaned when I felt the hard ridge of his erection against my belly.

  “Is this cheesy?” he taunted, before capturing my mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue sweeping past my lips in a way that made my knees buckle.

  I didn’t worry though, because a second later, his hands were under my butt, lifting me into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pushed me against the door, gasping against his lips when he ground his hips into me.

  It took me a moment to reorient myself when he suddenly pulled away, setting me gently on my feet as he stepped back. I blinked at him, my swollen lips open over my panting breath
.

  His chuckle was deep, a frequency that made me shiver compulsively. “Don’t fret, my siren.” He brushed his cool thumb over my bottom lip. “We have time. We have all night.”

  “What?”

  “We have all night,” he repeated casually, but his lips twitched.

  “Elena’s out of town?”

  His thumb dipped between my teeth and rested on my tongue. Automatically, I closed my lips over it and sucked. I watched his eyes darken and felt myself throb.

  “We have all night,” he said again.

  My cheeks ached with the force of my grin and even though I was desperate to touch him after weeks of careful avoidance, I didn’t. There was still so much between us that if I pressed my hand to the gap stuck between us I knew it would push fruitlessly against the clotted air. There were ways to cut through it but most were so dangerous, so scary in ways both good and bad, that I didn’t know how to take action.

  So, I just stared at him with a dumb smile while I cataloged the fall of his dark hair over his forehead, barely red in the low light of the entryway, and the way his tailored Oxford blue button down conformed to the honed muscles underneath. He stood with both hands in his pockets, fists clenched, and even though his face was as implacable as always, I knew that tell. He wanted to claim me just as badly as I needed to be taken by him. He could have been hesitating for so many reasons but I hoped it was because he feared that he’d lose his eternal control.

  I looked at the floor, happy that my hair fell forward to cover my suddenly shy smile. “Can I take your coat?”

  He slipped out of the heavy black coat and handed it to me without letting our fingers brush. My heart was beating strangely, sliding and skipping over beats in my chest. I was breathing erratically too, in anticipation.

  Sinclair toed off his beautiful leather loafers and on some strange impulse, I ducked down to grab them, thinking to put them in the closet with the rest of the shoes but Sinclair’s hand on the top of my head froze me in a crouch. My body hummed under his touch.

  “What are you doing?” His voice was liquid and when I looked up into his face, it was taut with desire.