Chapter 3
Sinclair
I’d awakened several minutes before my alarm had gone off, staring at the blankness of the ceiling in the early morning light. The quietness of the garden district neighborhood was a peaceful delineation from the festive atmosphere of the French Quarter where I spent much of my time.
Instead of feeling relaxed or even invigorated after a good night’s sleep, I’d longed for domination.
Not of the world.
Or even New Orleans.
Hell, no, it had nothing to do with the piece of trash I’d put on ice for the night.
Something much more exciting.
The woman.
Correction. The beautiful copper-haired beauty who hated my guts. Did she have a legitimate reason to? Yes, but that didn’t mean her highly agitated behavior hadn’t both annoyed and aroused me.
The latter took precedence overnight. Visions of her face and voluptuous body had kept me awake. Even her goddamn freckles, which I’d never found attractive before. On her they were a beacon of extreme lust, a pull toward acts of sin and shame.
Even now as I attempted to pull myself together, my thoughts continued to drift from the day’s necessary business to wondering what she’d taste like.
Her soft lips.
Her creamy skin.
Her sweet pussy.
How unlike me. I prided myself for being a man of discipline, even when it came to carnal acts.
As a Prince, I could and had had my share of the most beautiful women in the South.
From debutantes to daughters of corporate moguls, actresses and models to surgeons and attorneys, I’d enjoyed the silver plate of choices in my thirty-seven years of living on this earth.
That hadn’t meant any of them had satisfied anything other than my physical needs. Yes, some had been highly intelligent as well as charismatic company, but after one night, I’d grown bored.
And none of them had I longed to keep. Not for a single night.
I’d also never taken a single woman to the kind of club we managed above the shops and night club of Indulgence, a lucrative portion of the family’s billion-dollar business housed within a fashionable block on Bourbon Street.
The reason why?
That was easy. Sheer boredom.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t enjoyed spending time with highly intelligent, sophisticated women. I had. Sadly, most had their sights set on a long-term relationship, even marriage. Nothing I wanted.
My father would remind me it was my duty to procreate, helping bring a new crop of little Princes into the world.
Even before his death, I’d come to realize and accept that I had no business putting a wife in danger or bringing a kid into the world of violence.
So why was I suddenly questioning my playboy ways?
A laugh pushed to the surface. Maybe my conscience was flickering on and off much like my libido.
Shit. I needed to get the woman and her sensual curves off my mind. Even if I knew her name or anything about her, after running into her dog, flirtation would only earn me another hard punch to my jaw. No, I sucked at flirting.
However filthy my thoughts were, I reminded myself that she’d heard sounds coming from my guest. I’d seen the reaction on her face. She’d been curious yet I’d sensed the moment she’d recognized both the location and a plausible reason for the sound.
The motherfucker would suffer for trying to draw attention.
My brother, the Don of the family would remind me that the last thing we needed was anyone chatting with the police about a possible abduction. While I’d had my cleaning crew sweep the trunk for fibers and do a quick clean for spots of blood, I certainly hadn’t taken the usual amount of time.
Granted, the police hadn’t knocked on my door yet. However, it would be wise to consider talking with her. Just to get a feel of if she’d put the sounds together, already creating some crazy story of dead bodies in my trunk.
Close.
Or was I just trying to give myself an excuse to see her again?
The answer wasn’t coming easily.
With a heavy sigh, I tossed back the covers, finally ready to hit the shower. There was a lot to accomplish today, including interrogating Hotel Hell’s guest.
After shaving, I glared at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t getting any younger. My body had the scars to prove it.
A slow and steady fall of my gaze highlighted the fights I’d been involved in over the years.
Some from my youthful days of being an aggressive, stupid kid.
I’d worn the scars like badges of honor, showcasing them whenever possible as a clear ‘don’t fuck with me’ statement. They’d worked beautifully.
As I’d gotten older, the injuries from handling business had taken deeper tolls, including a dislocated shoulder that gave me trouble from time to time.
Before heading to the shower, the tattoo on my right arm caught my eye. Very slowly, I traced the lines of the intricate pattern, allowing myself a moment of sadness.
“You were my baby.” My one and only baby. Just like she’d called Indiana her son.
Fuck.
Dealing with the woman had suddenly made me sentimental? Unacceptable. I didn’t need anyone. I’d tried telling myself that very same thing when I’d almost asked her out for a drink. Not while Indiana was at the vet’s office, but later. I’d managed to shut down the lurid, vivid thoughts.
Until she’d smiled.
The room had lit up as if from the sun crashing through a hole in the roof.
Then the entire air supply had been sucked from my lungs, all noise fading.
While the moment had been brief, the dazzling interruption had been just enough to create a wave of every red-blooded man’s hottest fantasies.
Gorgeous. Just like the rest of her.
Including when she’d berated me.
Then she’d tossed out the word trust as if teaching me a lesson or throwing cookies to a dying man.
Sadly, in that split second before she seemed to shut down, I’d seen something very private, a quiet anguish that continued to plague her. Then she’d fastened her eyes on my groin, my dick uncontrollable. I could almost swear she’d licked her lips.
Maybe it was wishful thinking.
How ridiculously funny. Since walking out the door at her insistence, I’d replayed what she’d told me several times, lingering on the inflections in her tone. Which in turn had kept my cock fully engorged for hours.
Even now, my balls were tight and my thoughts had drifted from peeling away her clothing and exposing the prize underneath to longing to have her sit on my face.
I was one bad, bad man.
Laughing, I took a quick shower, stroking my cock until the friction became painful. No amount of jerking off could squelch the hunger.
Well, damn it.
As I dressed, I forcefully shifted my thoughts to how I wanted to handle the idiot from the day before. While there was no reason to suspect the act of thievery wasn’t a one-off, there were other factors that needed to be dealt with.
Either our organization did have a mole playing us for fools or there was someone in admin who could wear the crown as dunce of the year.
After the recent issue we’d had with the Bratva infiltrating some of our systems, we’d spent close to a million dollars upgrading security.
Starting with the firewalls for our computers.
Now, even our own hackers shouldn’t be able to discover locked down information, the security tighter than the Pentagon’s.
Or so we’d been told.
Even so, there was always the people factor.
Someone forgetting to follow protocol. Rules were established and followed for a reason.
If anyone had left themselves wide open for a cyber-attack, they wouldn’t like the consequences.
After heading to Hotel Hell, I had a meeting with our security experts to run a thorough check of the system.
I headed out fifteen minutes later, still trying to shake the latent effects of desire. First things first. A cup of coffee. I found a parking spot close to Indulgence and wasted no time heading for the bakery and coffee shop my sister managed on the first floor of our building.
As soon as I walked in, my sister offered her usual frown. Only this time, she tapped on her watch before turning around to the massive specialty coffee machine.
“You’re late,” Emmeline tossed over her shoulder, barely glancing at me.
“What are you talking about?”
“You always arrive on Tuesday mornings at precisely seven forty-five. It’s almost eight fifteen. I was beginning to worry that something horrible had happened to you.’
I waited to respond until she’d finished the brew. “I have no clue what you’re suggesting, my beautiful sister.”
“What did our father used to tell us? Don’t con a con artist. I know damn good and well you and the other partners in crime team up, coming by every morning to check on me.
” Our baby sister was a take no shit kind of woman.
She took after our mother. She threw in a few specialty items, always creating the perfect cup of java for me.
“Now, I adore having four brothers, but for God’s sake, stick to your day jobs. Never try acting again. I am fine.”
“I know you’re fine. We want to keep you that way. I need my morning cup of joe. What’s wrong with that?”
“Can I suggest purchasing a Keurig machine? Even you could learn to use one, they’re so easy.”
“Ouch. Aren’t you in a mood today. Besides, I prefer the froth.” Which I didn’t, but God help me if I told my sister that. I held a dirty little secret. I hated Indulgence’s coffee.
Her look of disdain never changed as she slipped a lid on the huge cup and pushed it my way with her usual flair. “I happen to know for a fact there’s a very lovely specialty coffee shop just a couple blocks from where you live. Next time, try it.”