“Isn’t that romantic?” a different voice asks, and Cecilia gasps. The next few seconds pass in a manic blur as I spin around to hide Cecilia behind me then pull my pants up.
Sinclair looks far too fucking amused, leaning against the doorframe with one ankle crossed over the other. He blows on his glasses and rubs the surface with his sleeve. “Sorry to interrupt your little book club, but we have a meeting with the other Elders and the Bishop.”
Cecilia tries to peer over my shoulder, but she soon shrinks back when I growl like a caveman. With a smirk, Sinclair puts his glasses back on.
“You better bleach your eyes,” I warn. “I swear if you?—”
“Relax,” he says, stifling laughter. “I have no interest in your wife.”
I should receive an award for staying put and not slaughtering my best friend. Just the thought of another man laying eyes on my woman, my wife, makes me want to spill blood. And a lot of it. Paint the room red and decorate the curtain poles with his innards like tinsel.
Sinclair exits the room, unbothered by my unhinged, murderous glare. “They’re waiting for you in the office.”
Cecilia crouches down to collect her gown. She dresses in silence and then tries to sneak past me, but I grab her neck and crush my lips to hers before she can escape my clutches.
This kiss is a claiming. A feral need to own and possess her after she was naked in another man’s proximity—it doesn’t matter that she was in my arms. My mind doesn’t make the connection. My mind wants to conquer. To show her who she belongs to.
I release her just as fast and stride out, leaving her to reel in the aftermath of whatever fucked-up collision that was of sexual tension and crumbling walls.
I spendthe meeting listening to the Bishop with half an ear while doodling on a sketch pad.
Fucking doodling.
I’ve never doodled in my life.
Seated beside me in a crisp suit and a Patek Philippe watch strapped to his wrist, Sinclair gives me funny looks. I ignore him, too preoccupied with thoughts of my new wife, which should be my first warning that something is seriously wrong. I never spend the night on the couch like some rough sleeper in a dank corner of the city center, and I don’t doodle or let my thoughts drift to the female gender. Yet I’m guilty of all those things inthe last twenty-four hours. Cecilia is a plague. Admittedly, she’s a very nice one, with plump lips, a breathtaking smile, and tits I want to suck on. But a plague, nonetheless. I need to rid myself of this disease.
Once the meeting is over, Sinclair pulls me aside while the others filter out. We smile politely at them, nodding a few goodbyes.
Sinclair waits for them to leave before he turns back to me. “I’m worried about you.”
“Wow. I see you’re not skirting around the subject.”
“You’re not acting yourself.”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with my business, Sinclair?—”
“The hell I do,” he growls, losing his temper briefly before he clears his throat and composes himself. “I’m your friend, probably your only friend. Believe it or not, I care about you.”
I walk past him. “That’s enough of the sentimental bullshit. We have more important issues at hand?—”
He strides around me, blocks the exit, and puffs out his cheeks like he’s done with my crap. When he finally speaks, his voice is lacking its usual amused lilt. He sounds…tired. “Look… Miss van der Meer, she?—”
“Mrs. Delacroix,” I correct.
“Mrs. Delacroix.” His throat rolls with his next swallow. “She could either be the best thing that happened to you or the worst.”
He lets his words settle for brief moments before he runs his hand over his mouth and says, “I’ve known you since we were kids. I was there when?—”
“Don’t!” I snap. “Don’t say it.”
“It needs to be said. You’ve buried the past like it never happened, Darian. It’s eating you up from the inside. I hate to say it, but you’re not the guy you used to be. You’re this…” He gestures at me. “…this shell. An emotionless robot.”
“Jeez, thanks.” I try to move past him again, but he takes up more room than a tank.
“Step aside,” I warn. “You don’t want to mess with me today.”
“Dammit. Listen to me.”
