The Affair (The Evolution Of Sin #1)

by Giana Darling

  Slowly, because I was unsure and deeply interested, I helped Antonio and Sinclair prepare the lines and I even took a brief turn at the wheel but the stress of keeping the boat straight on the rolling waves had me laughing hysterically and Antonio soon took over again.

  When everything was set, Sinclair ushered me to a low fold-up chair facing the rods and handed me a Dos Equis beer before taking a seat himself. His legs were outstretched, long and partially bare in his long khaki shorts and I devoured the sight of him like that, spread out and casual like unfolded laundry. I wanted to lie on top of him and drag his masculine scent deep into my lungs.

  He stopped chuckling at something Antonio was explaining and his features collapsed into their usual impartiality when he caught me staring. “Can I help you with something, Elle?”

  He was using his coolness to tease me, I thought, but still I blushed and focused on peeling the label from the brown bottle in my hands.

  “I just like seeing you relaxed, it’s different.”

  “Relaxed? The only thing I feel around you, siren, is desire.” As if to prove his point, his eyes set flame to every inch of my skin, burning me like a witch for the spell I had cast over him.

  The thought delighted me.

  “I think your passions bring you comfort. Me,” I cleared my throat, “I mean my body, fishing, your business deal with the failing resort. It’s like that for me with my art; like having an itch, that constant stimulation, but being too comfortable to scratch it away.”

  He pursed his lips. “It is certainly an interesting analogy.”

  I shrugged because I knew I could be clunky with English, it was much easier to wax poetic in French or Italian.

  “There is only one problem with it, as I see,” he continued, looking out at the achingly blue water the exact same shade as his eyes. “You are unlike anything I have ever dealt with before, therefore there can be no frame of reference, no precedent to compare you to.”

  I frowned at the beer in my hands. “That doesn’t exactly sound like a good thing.”

  “The unknown; it has stalked mankind since the beginning.”

  “Are you trying to say I’m stalking you?”

  “Is it stalking if the recipient is eager to be followed?”

  We stared at each other with barely contained smiles bright in our eyes and wobbly on our lips. Eager questions bubbled in my throat, the pressure building until I was sure my lips would pop open and a stream of embarrassing neediness would erupt.

  What are we doing?

  Why do I like you so much?

  Wouldn’t it be great if this was more than a holiday affair?

  Happily, Antonio’s sudden shout shattered our connection and the Mexican hastily pulled me to my feet as he dashed by to take the bobbing fishing rod in his hands.

  “You take, you take!” he urged, reeling in the line rapidly.

  I watched skeptically as he tugged fiercely at the trapped fish. It looked much too strong for me.

  “I’ll guide you.” Sinclair’s presence at my back calmed me and I was instantly obedient, allowing my hands to be manipulated into the proper position on the rod.

  The waves undulated under my feet and it was hard to find purchase on the slippery deck but I ground the soles of my shoes into the floor and squatted lower.

  “Place it just bellow your belly button and keep the rod tilted up, you want the line tight,” he coached. “Brace your feet, pull the rod up and back slightly and then quickly reel in the slack.”

  The blunt end of the fishing pole dug painfully into my gut as I struggled to reel in the fish and my right arm was already weak from exhaustion but adrenaline pounded through my veins. The hard pulse of my heart was the epic soundtrack to my big catch.

  “Steady.” Sinclair’s strong voice grounded me. “Don’t pull too hard, you need to play the fish, coax him closer to the boat with a firm hand.”

  My mind flashed to his firm hands bringing me to orgasm the night before and I slipped slightly when the fish zigzagged to the left. Before I could right myself, he was there, his strong arms cupping my elbows and his steely chest pressed to my back. I leaned back against him, settling my bum against his groin.

  “Behave,” he ordered quietly as Antonio darted around the deck, preparing to net the fish and trying to drive the boat at the same time. “You wouldn’t want to loose this monster fish just because you couldn’t keep your focus.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Says the man who is distracting me.”

  His warm chuckle ruffed my hair and he slid it off my sticky neck. “Do you have an elastic?”

  “Left pocket,” I mumbled as I frantically reeled in the tiring fish. A flash of scales a few meters from the boat thrilled me.

  As did Sinclair’s gentle hands as they gathered my hair and put it rather adeptly into a high ponytail. “Much better,” he murmured against my damp neck, skimming his teeth from my ear down to my collar. “Easy access.”

  I moaned slightly but narrowed my eyes and wriggled my hips, trying to get away from him. He was so arrogant, thinking that he would win the bet, that I would spend the night sprawled across his bed completely at his mercy. More determined than ever, I pushed him away with a firm thrust of my hips and adopted the position Antonio had taught me.

  “Antonio,” I called. “Sinclair is a terrible tutor, would you mind helping me?”

  Sinclair’s smoky chuckle sounded from somewhere behind me but I was glad he was giving me the space I needed to concentrate. It was so easy to become distracted by thoughts of what he could do to my body. The mere sound of his lightly accented voice whispering dirty promises into my ear was enough to…

  I shook my head – snap out of it!

  “Is a big fish!” Antonio yelled close to my ear as he came up to adjust my grip. “Very big. Maybe the man should take over?”

  “No, no, no,” I growled, leaning all of my weight back to keep the fish somewhat close to the boat. How long was it going to fight me for? “I can do it.”

  There was condescending amusement in the Mexican fisherman’s voice when he said, “Okay, you do it. But this is a marlin, a very big, very strong fish.”

  I almost broke into a dance. Sinclair had said marlins were the biggest fish, the hardest to catch. Imagine if I caught one, the things I could make him do to me….

  “Concentrate, Elle.” As always sensing my thoughts, Sinclair’s stern voice cut through my fantasies. “This fish could feed Antonio’s family for a week.”

  My tongue peeked out between my lips, gently clamped against my teeth as I concentrated. Antonio’s excited voice babbled in my ear as he checked my progress. I was at the stern of the little boat for forty minutes playing the fish, reeling in fast, pulling back on the rod in an undulating motion exactly like the sea beneath my braced feet. I had never thought of fishing as a sport, but I soon realized just how taxing it was. My arms and legs felt like jelly, the rod bit painfully into my stomach even as I shifted it around trying to find a more comfortable position. But it was thrilling too. At one point, the marlin jumped high into the air, flashing its sapphire ridge and sharp nose. My cramped fingers itched for my camera and I seriously considered giving up, unsure how much my weak body could take.

  “Little closer, closer! Steady, steady,” Antonio yelled while dangling over the side of the boat, a large net in his hand.

  In one sharp jerk, with just a twist of his wrist he snagged the marlin, calling for Sinclair to help him. The rod was super-glued to my aching fingers and I watched dumbly as the men wrangled the massive fish into the little hull of the boat. Antonio retrieved a small baseball bat type instrument and hit the fish over the head until it stopped flailing. Despite my revulsion and the intense swell of empathy I felt for the magnificent creature, I watched rapt as they killed it and heaved it into a water cooler built into the boat. It made me uneasy to realize that I had never seen the process involved in killing the food I so easily shoved into my mouth each day.

&nb
sp; Sinclair came over to me somewhat cautiously and I realized that my confusion must have shown on my face. Gently, he unpeeled my fingers from around the rod and set it aside before taking my hands in his. He rubbed each finger, stroking down to the base and back up to the next finger until they tingled pleasantly.

  “I’m very impressed with you, Elle.” His voice was quiet but intense. “You have remarkable endurance and it’s not every first time fisherman that can say they caught a 125 pound marlin.”

  My eyes widened comically. “I did that?”

  “You did.” He nodded and ducked his head to press a firm kiss to my lips. “I should have known a siren would have mastery over the sea.”

  His words ignited my previous excitement and I squealed, jumping into his arms. He hesitated before his hands slid under my bottom to hold me up. I rained kisses over his face then pulled back to beam into his pleasantly surprised face.

  “I’m basically a master fisherman now, aren’t I?” When he didn’t answer quickly enough I leaned back to call to Antonio. “Aren’t I, Antonio?”

  His resulting grin was wide and toothy. “You can fish with me anytime, Signorita!”

  The rest of the trip was glorious. I lay down on the small upper deck in my bathing suit, recovering in the sun from my exercise. At some point, Sinclair came up to check on me and rub sunscreen sensuously into my skin. I dozed in and out of sleep, catching snip bits of Sinclair and Antonio’s easy Spanish banter. The language was close enough to French and Italian that I could make out the gist of what they were saying but I was happy just to drift as they chattered excitedly to each other like little boys.

  Sinclair yelled with triumph sometime later, rousing me from my sleep and I smiled. It was a privilege, I think, being able to see him so unbound from the tight restraints he kept himself in. Out on the sea he was less reserved and when he came bounding up the stairs to where I lay, I cracked open one eye to see him crouched before me with a wide, devastating grin.

  “Did you catch one?” I asked sleepily.

  He nodded, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “I did.”

  “Is it big?”

  His hand reached out to adjust my floppy white hat. “Don’t worry, Elle, you’ll have what you want tonight.”

  I closed my eyes and hummed. “Good.”

  I fell asleep to his soft chuckle.

  When we returned to the docks, people were waiting to take our large haul in ancient wheelbarrows so that they could be weighed and filleted. First, Sinclair ordered a picture of me with my huge marlin, strung up beside me from a pole where it dwarfed me twice over. A small smile played over his handsome features as I grinned into the camera and laughed with some tourists who peppered me with questions. Thanks to Antonio and Sinclair’s sage advice, I was actually able to answer most of them and when I returned to his side, Sinclair kissed my hair and I knew he was pleased I had enjoyed fishing so much.

  We stayed to watch them fillet the fish and I frowned when a large silver fish, a Wahoo I thought, was heaved onto the bloody slab. It was huge, fat and long, and with growing dread, I realized that it might be bigger than mine. I twisted my head to look up at Sinclair and gasped when he stared down at me with sparkling eyes.

  “You lied to me!” I accused, pointing a finger into his strong chest. “You said I caught the biggest fish.”

  “No.” He shook his head slowly. “I said you would have what you want tonight.” He leaned close into my outraged face. “And you will enjoy the things I am going to do to you, very much.”

  I harrumphed and fisted my hands on my hips, but a smile cracked through when Sinclair barked with laughter. His head tipped back, exposing his brown neck to my hungry gaze. He was so beautiful it made something in my chest ache.

  We thanked Antonio and gave him most of our spoils but I was happy when Sinclair held back some marlin to cook up back at the resort. I dozed on his shoulder in the car, exhausted from the combination of sun and fishing, while Sinclair murmured in Spanish into his phone. He woke me up with a gentle shake when we reached the hotel.

  “Hi.” I smiled up at him, blinking the drowsiness from my eyes.

  He looked down at me with an almost unnerving intensity that caused my heart to pound. “Hi.”

  We stared at each other for a long minute until I became discombobulated by the brilliant azure of his irises.

  “I have business that needs taking care of tonight.” His features hardly moved as he spoke and I clung to the passion in his eyes as nerves started to set in. “I won’t be back until late.”

  I waited for him to suggest a late night rendezvous and when he didn’t I nodded, swallowing my disappointment. “Right. Well, I could use a good night’s rest anyway.”

  He nodded, carefully studying my reaction. When I remained expressionless, he turned away from me. “Good. I’ll contact you tomorrow then.”

  I shivered at the coldness of his words. We had just spent a fantastic day together and when I thought about the night before, I was instantly alight with desire. Why was he doing this? Had I done something wrong?

  Through my confusion, I tightened my expression, taking a page from his book, and deliberately cooled my words before saying, “I had a very pleasant day, thank you for allowing me to join.”

  I made to get out of the car but I looked over my shoulder to see his reaction. My heart shuddered painfully when he only nodded curtly without looking at me and turned back to his phone.

  The moment I had walked around to the entrance, the car took off. I watched it swerve onto the palm tree lined drive until it disappeared through the gates. I hadn’t felt so alone since I was nineteen and my twin siblings had left the house one after another without a word. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes and it took me a moment to realize that I held the parcel of marlin that Sinclair had saved for us. I sucked in a deep breath. I hadn’t come to Mexico to moon over a man, however handsome and devastating he may have been. I came to relax, to steel myself for the tumult of returning to my family. I didn’t care if I saw Sinclair again, I assured myself. And buoyed by my lies, I entered the lobby with my chin tipped into the air like a princess.

  “I’d like the kitchen to cook this up for me,” I said to the concierge. “I’ll eat at Arrecifes at 8pm.”

  “Excellent, Mrs. Buchanan, will anyone be joining you?” he asked with a pleasantly bland smile that did nothing to help my mood.

  Someone coming in from the beach caught my eye and I turned to a brief-clad Stefan with a broad smile.

  “Stefan,” I called, my confidence revived by his appreciative smile. “How would you like to join me for dinner?”

  Chapter Ten.

  The fish was fantastic. They had served it with three sauces but the rich, spicy mole was my favorite. It was easy to focus on the delicious meal because each time I tuned into Stefan’s Greek accented voice I found myself thinking about another accent, another man. I wondered, as I pushed a flaky piece of marlin across my plate, what the business was that he had to conduct so very late at night.

  “I know I opened with the dullness of sport,” Stefan spoke louder, trying to draw my attention. “But I switched to the art world just for you, Giselle, and still your eyes pass through me. If I was a less beautiful man, I might be insulted.”

  I smiled at him, grateful for his easy charm. “I’m sorry, Stefan, I had a tiring day. It wasn’t considerate of me to invite you to a meal where I can hardly stay awake.”

  His brown fingers drummed against the tablecloth as he studied me. “No, I don’t think it is sleep you want. Might it have something to do with the man down by the pool yesterday afternoon?”

  I stared at my empty wine glass as if it was fascinating.

  He chuckled as a server came to refill our glasses and take our plates. I hadn’t finished my meal but my stomach was in knots from thinking over what I could have possibly done to send Sinclair away.

  “You are here alone, Giselle.” Stefan reached forward to take m
y cold hand in his and squeezed it warmly. “I mean only to be a friend, if you have need of one.”

  The tension that had been building in my chest loosened and my shoulders sagged slightly with release. I hardly knew anything about the Greek before me, but that wasn’t saying much, I hardly knew anything about the Frenchman I was sleeping with. Had been sleeping with. But Stefan was kind and pleasantly vain, I knew that he would offer me insight over judgment and probably take genuine amusement from my situation.

  “I’m having a holiday affair.”

  He nodded and sat back in his chair, his posture straight but regal, like a king lounging on his throne. “How exciting.”

  “Yes.” I nodded, pretending to be someone confident, experienced, someone more like my sister than me but I could tell by the shrewd brightness in his eyes that Stefan didn’t believe me. “It’s more complicated than I thought it would be.”

  “Affairs always are,” he mused. “Is he married?”

  My shoulders hunched near my ears as he hit the nail dangerously close to the head. “Long time partner.”

  He frowned slightly and raised his glass but didn’t drink from it. “I see. But this isn’t something you normally do. Why now? Why him?”

  And not me, his question seemed to imply. I knew that he was attracted to me but I also got the impression that he could have been attracted to anyone with good looks, be it a man or woman. Stefan had the kind of fluid sexuality that was both sexy and scary in a man. I wished I could be as free as him.

  “Do I sound childish if I say it was a feeling a had?” When Stefan rolled his eyes in gentle mockery, I laughed. “Fine. Well, he was unbelievably handsome for starters. And I guess this sort of thing,” I waved my hand abstractly, “was the next step in my evolution from self-conscious frump to somewhat sophisticated woman.”