Page 73 of Sinner's Obsession


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Her shy giggle sends a jolt straight to my heart, and the image of her face in the throes of ecstasy fills my mind, making my cock twitch, though I shouldn’t be so weak to fall for the temptation of sex.

But in truth, I’m so off balance from her apology that I don’t know where to go from here. I want to believe her, and she sounds sincere. But I don’t trust myself with Dani. I find, with her, my attraction often overrides my common sense.

“Anyway.” Dani clears her throat uncomfortably. “I came to say I’m sorry. And to ask if you would trust me enough to let me take you somewhere?”

Her tone lifts at the end in a hopeful upslope, and though I’m not ready to just hand over my trust once again, I can’t deny Dani her request. “Okay,” I say with reticence.

“Really?” Dani perks up, her back straightening with excitement.

I chuckle. “Really.”

Beaming, Dani grabs my hand, her fingers small as they twine with mine. She rises from the couch, pulling me with her, and guides me toward the door.

“We are going now?” I ask, glancing down at my casual apparel.

“Yeah,” Dani says, glancing back and following my gaze down to my pants.

“I should change, no?” I suggest, pulling her to a stop.

“Um. Sure, yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” she agrees, her cheeks coloring slightly.

I give her hand a squeeze and release it. “I will be back in a moment.”

Making a quick change into a button-down and slacks, I throw on my black leather jacket to ward off the autumn chill.

The ride is a short one, though it takes some time in the city traffic, and when we step out of the rideshare, I look up at the tall building with the name Galleria in a bold black-and-white font.

Raising an eyebrow, I look down at Dani. And she flashes me a winning smile.

“Still trust me?” she asks, taking my hand once more.

Baffled by why she would bring me here, I’m too intrigued to say anything, but yes, though I’m still guarded.

Leading me through the front doors, Dani guides me into a modern art gallery. The open layout and white walls and floors give it a modern appearance. The rope lights hang from the ceiling on thin silver wires, like bright ideas waiting to fill someone’s head.

The walls are filled with massive photographs, blown up to show every detail of the image on display.

But it’s not the art that shocks me motionless. It’s the sheer number of people. Important people. I recognize the faces of high society, some who attend the fancy Upstate parties the Matron is so fond of throwing at the family estate. Others I recognize from various forms of media—politicians, fashion designers, socialites.

And as I stiffen, my eyes shifting to observe Dani and her reaction to all the people, she tugs enthusiastically on my arm.

“This way,” she insists, seeming not to notice the mob of people dressed in designer suits and cocktail dresses.

Eyes shift to follow us, and I’m intensely aware of how everyone can see us. Dani’s clearly demonstrating she’s not afraid to be seen with me, though I know it must make her uncomfortable after all the times she’s said her family doesn’t want her associating with the Veles.

My heart pounds at the meaning behind her action, the intent with which she followed her apology with a demonstration of her sincerity.

“Don’t you want to look at the art?” I ask as she guides me purposefully through the crowds gathered around various art pieces.

“Yes,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at me with a coy smile. “But there’s one, in particular, I want to show you first.”

Conceding the last of my resistance, I follow Dani through the throng of people, my heart swelling with hope. It fills me with intense satisfaction to see people glance at Dani and then down at our interlocked hands before looking up at my face.

Guiding me up a set of stairs and to the very back of the massive gallery, Dani leads me around a freestanding wall into a wide-open room.

People stand staring at the wall, and as soon as we round the corner, I can see why.

There, blown up to an image that must be forty-by-sixty inches, is a black-and-white picture of my face. The oxygen vanishes from the room as I see it for the first time, and I stop dead to stare.

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