Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry, Monsieur. Mademoiselle.” He gives us a gracious bow. “But that area is off-limits to guests.”
“No worries,” I say with a careless shrug. “Just thought Monsieur Mercier must have a hell of a wine cellar down there.”
A frosty smile is all we get in return, and I lead Sin away.
“So the Renoir isn’t in his loo, but rather his basement,” she murmurs with a slight giggle. “Good to know.”
Chuckling, I guide her up the stairs once more. When we reenter the ballroom, I immediately pull her onto the dance floor for a waltz. I could pull off a passable tango if they played one, but not sure I could handle such a sexy dance with Sin.
Regardless, she fits perfectly in my arms. This isn’t the first posh event we’ve been to together. Sin and I have staked out many fine establishments posing as well-to-do guests.
“If I haven’t said so yet,” I murmur in her ear as we slide into each step together, our motions radiating grace and sophistication, “you are the most beautiful woman here tonight.”
Sin rolls her eyes, and I tug her in closer. “Actually, the most beautiful woman in the world. Did I tell you that?”
Her eyes cloud slightly, but I get a faint smile. “It’s been a while since you’ve told me that.”
She’s right. Since before she sent me off to prison, at least.
“Well, you are.” I dip my head, brushing my lips against hers as we glide to the music. “The most beautiful, sexy, warm, and intelligent woman I know. You’re a one of a kind, Sin Westin.”
Her smile widens as she moves closer, pressing her cheek to mine. “You’re not so bad yourself, Bellinger.”
We dance in silence for a bit. With reluctance, I dare to bring up something that could kill the moment. “If I could get you out of this without you needing to run and look over your shoulder, would you exit gracefully and let me handle it from here on out?”
She jerks away to search my face, eyes flicking back and forth as if trying to discern if I’m serious. “How?”
I shrug. “Simple. I have a heart-to-heart with Mercier. Tell him the truth—that we’ve reconnected and the old feelings are still there. Play up the proprietary boyfriend who wants his little woman at home to have his dinner cooked and waiting for him. Slyly tell him I want to make an honest woman of you—keep you barefoot and pregnant. Take your pick of options, but I’d paint the picture I’d like to caveman you into being a stay-at-home girlfriend or wife.”
“He’d never let me out of my debt to him,” she scoffs. She tries to snuggle back into me, the entire idea dismissed.
I hold her at arm’s length, make her look into my eyes to see I’m dead serious about this. “I’ll tell him I’ll take on your debt. Pay it off or work it off—whatever he prefers.”
“You’d do that for me?” she quizzically asks.
“Well, technically, if he accepts my offer to work it off, that would be moot if we’re successful in taking him down, but if he’s willing to let me pay off your debt, then yes. I’d do it for you.”
Frowning, Sin shakes her head. “You’re a confounding man, you know that?”
“Why?” I ask with a slight grin.
“Because I sometimes think I have you back… the old Saint who was in love with me. Yet, at other times, I’m not so sure.”
“You drop that word casually,” I point out.
“What? Love?” Her laugh bubbles up from deep in her chest. Almost seeming embarrassed, she glances around to see if the noise caught anyone’s attention before bringing her gaze back to me. “I don’t throw it around casually, but I’m not going to hide from it. This might be a surprise to you, Saint, but my feelings for you never changed. They’ve stayed true and strong throughout the years. I get yours have changed—I wronged you. But mine… I never stopped loving you… not for one single second.”
I’m not prepared to handle the emotions her words cause within me. I hadn’t thought we’d talk about something so deep, yet I’m the one who opened that fucking door.
On one hand, I feel an almost cataclysmic sense of joy to know she still cares for me so deeply. On the other, mild panic begins to well inside me. Not because I’m afraid of commitment or love, but because we are embroiled in something so deeply dangerous that I’m afraid to acknowledge any reciprocal feelings. I’m afraid it could alter my course or make me careless in some way.
But I owe her some kind of answer, so she’ll at least know I’m in deep with her as well. “Sin… when this is over, I’m ready to explore everything with you. I promise. I’m sorry I can’t give you more right this moment, but—”