SINS of the Rex Book 3

by Emma Slate

  She sighed, her face going all dreamy. “Yeah, sex is good.”

  “Makes the world go round.” I set my foot down and picked up the other.

  “Don’t kill me,” she began.

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing. Yet.” She sighed. “I’m not going to the opening.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to fly that long for a few days. I don’t want to leave Carys. And besides, I’ve got the gallery. I don’t want to leave it just as I went back to work.”

  My smile was slow and I shook my head.

  “What?” she demanded, pulling out her messy blonde ponytail and running her finger through the snarled locks.

  “I never thought I’d see the day when Ashby Rhodes decided to bow out of a very good party.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s Ashby Rhodes Buchanan—and you should know that anything is possible. Especially after the life you’ve been living these past few years.”

  I laughed. “Valid point, Ash.”

  After I showered, I checked in on the boys in the playroom. They were having fun and the nannies didn’t look overly harassed, which seemed to be a miracle. Who knew what sort of crazy Hawk would get into next?

  I headed downstairs to find Flynn. He was in his office and in the middle of a phone call. When he saw me hovering in the doorway, he waved me in and gestured for me to close the door. He ended the call and set the cell down onto his desk. It landed with a decisive thud.

  “Who was that?” I asked, walking to him and placing my hand on his arm.

  Flynn ran a hand across his chin, scratching at the stubble that was rapidly becoming a beard. “Ramsey.”

  “News about Arlington?”

  “Aye. There are photos of Arlington’s body. Ramsey sent them in an email.”

  “Gruesome?”

  He frowned. “That’s what’s so weird. They’re not.”

  “No?”

  “No. The body wasn’t disfigured. They did an autopsy and the pathologist said Arlington died of asphyxiation.”

  “Asphyxiation,” I repeated. “So, he was strangled? Or smothered?”

  “There we no signs of struggle.”

  “What did the tox screen say?”

  “Clean.”

  “No.”

  Flynn clenched his strong jaw. “Aye.” He leaned over his desk and pressed the spacebar of his laptop. The black screen flashed with color and then I was staring at a cropped photo of Arlington’s neck, specifically the swatch of skin behind his ear.

  I leaned in closer. “Is that…”

  Flynn pressed a few buttons and the photo zoomed in so I could see the white ink tattoo better. It was no bigger than a dime, a bird with open wings.

  “Arlington never struck me as the type of guy that had a tattoo,” I said.

  “It was a calling card,” Flynn said. “Someone wanted to take credit for this without being obvious about it.”

  “That’s weird. Why wouldn’t someone just fess up?”

  “I don’t know the answer to that.” He looked at me. “What are you thinking?”

  I continued to stare at the computer screen. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Something nagging at you?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Because I know you—and you’ve got this intense, scholarly furrowed brow.”

  I smiled and reached out to touch his cheek. “I love that someone knows me so well.” My hand dropped. “Why now?”

  “What?”

  “Why didn’t Arlington die during the proceedings? Or during his trial? Why within the first few weeks in prison?”

  “Probably so it wouldn’t draw as much attention,” Flynn mused. “People tend to forget the headlines pretty quickly. Arlington dying in prison only affects the few that remember him. Try not to worry too much about it, love. Not at the moment.”

  “Why worry about something you can’t change,” I stated.

  “Exactly.” He watched me carefully, as if he already knew what I was thinking—that I wasn’t torn up about the fact that Arlington was dead.

  “Maybe we should consider this a blessing,” I suggested. “The last link to The Pretender is dead and now it’s wrapped up. Done. Finished. We can truly move on with our lives.”

  Flynn’s cobalt eyes gleamed like precious jewels. “It’s been weighing on you?”

  “Has it been weighing on you?” I asked back.

  “I didn’t like that we gave Arlington to the Brits to let them handle it. I would’ve preferred—”

  “Yeah, I know what you would’ve preferred. But cutting that deal was the right thing to do.” I shook my head. “Okay, I can’t talk about this right now. I’m headed into Dornoch. I wanted to speak to Father Brooks today about cataloguing the library.”

  He kissed me softly. “I have to talk with Duncan.”

  “Late dinner?” I asked.

  “Probably.”

  “Wine?” I asked.

  “Most definitely.”

  “Sex on the kitchen table?” I teased.

  He grinned. “Absolutely.”

  Chapter 5

  Dornoch Library was a gothic stone building with high winged arches, sitting on a parcel of land just behind the cathedral. It was three floors of cobwebs, dust, and books that needed cataloguing and organization. It was exactly the kind of project I couldn’t wait to tackle.

  Father Brooks gave me a set of keys and free reign. I could come and go as I pleased. He was actually quite happy to be rid of the overwhelming undertaking.

  “Weel,” he said in his thick brogue. “I’ll leave you to sort out this mess.” With energy of a man half his age, he sprinted out of the austere and dark building, leaving me alone.

  The first order of business was to get a new light design put in otherwise I’d strain my eyes and go blind trying to read all the small printed titles on the leather bound books. I’d have to get a cleaning crew in there to give the place a thorough dusting or I’d be sneezing every five minutes.

  I wandered around the library for the better part of an hour, trying to understand the layout and make sense of the disorder. There was no way I was going to be able to find anything until I pulled out all the books and began rearranging them.

  As the sun set, I reluctantly locked up the library. I was excited and eager to dive in, but it would have to wait. When I got home, I briefly checked in on the twins, but they were bathed and ready for bed. I headed to the den, finding Flynn with Hawk on his lap.

  “He’s sitting still,” I commented with a smile, leaning down to kiss Flynn.

  Hawk began to squirm as soon as I said it. Flynn set him down in front of me and Hawk wrapped his arms around my legs, peering up at me with a cute, impish grin.

  “Come here, devil,” I teased, leaning down and picking him up.

  “You cursed it,” Flynn said. He got up and headed towards the bar. “Want a drink?”

  “Scotch, please,” I said as I carried Hawk and sat down on the couch, setting him down to stand between my legs.

  Flynn poured us two glasses and then set mine down on a coaster on the coffee table. Hawk saw it and immediately went for it.

  “Should we?” I asked with a grin, helping Hawk hold the glass so he wouldn’t spill Balvenie Triple Cask all over the carpet.

  “He doesn’t seem to know when to quit,” Flynn said with an amused glance. “I say we give him a taste and see what happens.”

  I allowed Hawk to take a tiny sip. He coughed and his face turned red before he started to cry, dramatically throwing himself across my lap. Handing off my glass to Flynn, I lifted Hawk onto my lap. I cradled him against me and rubbed his back.

  Flynn shot me a sardonically amused look. “Don’t feel bad, hen. Hawk is a wee bit stubborn.”

  Hawk’s cries tempered, and I brushed back the dark hair off his forehead to reveal the bump that was healing. “I’m aware. Let’s just hope the twins are more subdued.”

  “Aye
,” Flynn agreed.

  Hawk’s nanny came into the den and asked if she could take him for his bath. Demonstrative in his affection, Hawk gave me a noisy kiss before letting his nanny lead him out of the den.

  I picked up my glass and took a sip. “Nice time with Duncan?”

  “We were discussing our next move with the SINS. It’s difficult, you know? We’re entrenched with the FBI. We’re watched and our illegal activities are monitored.”

  “Don Archer leaves us alone,” I reminded him.

  “Aye, in exchange for information about other illegal groups causing trouble in the United States.”

  I smiled in understanding. “You feel like a nark.”

  “A nark?”

  “A snitch.”

  Flynn shook his head and then grinned. “Pretty much.”

  I pat the couch seat next to me and Flynn got up from his chair and came over. Fitting myself into the nook of his body, I rested my head on his chest. We enjoyed our scotches in silence until we heard Hawk fighting his nanny.

  I looked up at Flynn and grinned. “No rest for the wicked.”

  “Don’t I know it,” he said.

  Hoisting Hawk higher on my hip, I knocked on Barnabas’s front door. A crop of white hair appeared the moment the door flew open. Hawk squealed in excitement, attempting to lunge out of my arms.

  “Do you want to see the puppies?” Barnabas asked as he took Hawk from me.

  “I do,” I said. I leaned up to kiss Barnabas’s weathered cheek.

  “Come in, come in,” he said with a grin. “You’re looking tan.”

  I laughed. “Liar.”

  “How was Italy?” Barnabas asked as we walked through his old stone cottage towards the back.

  “Gorgeous, restful, perfect. Glad to be back though. Now where are these adorable puppies?”

  Barnabas opened the door to the pantry to reveal Nan, a black and white Border Collie resting on a pile of old blankets. Her litter of eight puppies nuzzled against her eagerly.

  I crouched down onto the floor and pet Nan. Her ears flattened against her head as she leaned into my hand. Barnabas handed me Hawk who I settled onto my lap.

  “You say hi to Mama first,” I said to him, taking his hand and petting Nan’s silky ear. Nan licked Hawk who giggled. He crawled off of my lap and scooted towards the month old puppies.

  “Gentle,” I said to Hawk.

  “You want to hold one, laddie?” Barnabas asked. He crouched down and gently lifted a puppy and set it in Hawk’s lap. The look on Hawk’s face was priceless.

  “Every lad needs a good dog,” Barnabas said with a grin.

  “He’s got a sheep.”

  “Not the same.”

  The next morning, I was drinking coffee and eating a slice of toast at the kitchen table when Flynn walked in. He was dressed in a navy sweater and dark slacks, his hair styled.

  “What’s your mood like?” Flynn asked.

  I looked up from making my list of what I needed to do to make the library presentable. “My mood is good. The twins had a good night’s sleep and they’re not crabby and Hawk is at Barnabas’s farm.”

  “Again? You both were there yesterday.”

  “He likes the puppies.”

  “No,” Flynn said.

  “No what?” I demanded.

  “No, he better not come home with a dog. We have a sheep that lives in the house. That’s enough.”

  “She gets bathed regularly, so I really don’t know what your issue is.” I got up to refill my cup of coffee.

  “Because she—can we not talk about Betty?”

  “Sure. What’s going on?”

  “I have to go to Las Vegas earlier than I planned.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Earlier when exactly?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “What happened?” I demanded.

  “Nothing. Yet.”

  “Oh, I get it. You think your mere presence will ensure that everything goes accordingly for the opening and nothing would dare go wrong.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I think it’s a solid plan and I support it,” I said. “So you take the jet and I’ll take a commercial flight.”

  Flynn’s smile was slow and full of amusement. “Ah, hen. You do make me laugh.”

  “I didn’t know I was so funny.”

  “I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me tomorrow instead of flying out later. Let’s bring the boys with us,” he suggested. “The penthouse is more than big enough for us and there’s a connecting suite for the nannies.”

  “You’ve thought of everything,” I marveled.

  He grinned. “I try. Think about it. While I’m running around like a maniac, you can hang out by the pool. The rooftop pool is finished.”

  “That’s all well and good,” I said, “but it’s not fun to drink and sunbathe alone.”

  “Ash will be there.”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. She doesn’t want to leave Carys and besides, she’s got stuff to do at the gallery.”

  “She’ll come,” he promised. “I’ll get Duncan to talk to her.”

  “She’s in a place.”

  “What place?”

  “You know, the baby place. Where you can’t see straight or think straight and everything revolves around that.”

  He made a Scottish noise in the back of his throat.

  “You’re a man,” I said with a smile. “So you don’t get what having a baby does to your brain. You don’t make rational choices and logic flies out the window.”

  Flynn looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. “I have an idea. Didn’t you do something so foolhardy as to meet with Winters without vetting the situation first?”

  I didn’t like that reminder. “I was stupid. And hormonal. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “Hey,” Flynn said, coming to me. He took the coffee cup out of my hand and set it aside before pulling me to him. “I didn’t mean to make you—”

  “I know,” I assured him. I hugged him back, breathing in the clean smell of his shirt, the hint of him beneath.

  “Can you believe it?” he asked.

  “Believe what?”

  “Believe that we made it through all we made it through?”

  I leaned my head back. “Sometimes I think we’re characters in a book and shit just keeps happening to us.”

  He let out a chuckle as his hands cradled my cheeks. He leaned down to kiss me and just as he attempted to end it, I refused to let him, demanding that he deepen it.

  “I have a minute,” he whispered against my lips.

  “Just a minute?” I teased.

  “Like you need more than a minute,” he quipped.

  “What can I say? We fit together really well. And when it works, it works.”

  “Amen to that,” he said, tugging me towards the privacy of the back porch.

  Chapter 6

  The Las Vegas Rex Hotel wasn’t on the strip but twenty minutes outside of town, surrounded by the browns and greens of the desert. The Rex was meant to be its own entity so that guests could shop, go to the spa, attend shows, gamble in the casinos, eat and drink in the restaurants, all without having to leave the resort. There was also a golf course and a high-class brothel. Because prostitution was legal in parts of Nevada, Flynn still had to bribe the right people to get them to look the other way.

  The expansive lobby was white marble and gold accents; the decor and design of the hotel had been inspired by Versailles. Overwhelming opulence was around every corner and even Ash, who’d grown up with money, gaped.

  Unfortunately, we were exhausted from traveling so we didn’t get time to explore or take it all in. We all headed up to the private penthouse floor, juggling tired, crabby children who were ready for bed.

  “Breakfast tomorrow?” I asked Ash as the nannies took the children from our arms and swept them away towards their beds.

  “Yes.”

  “Duncan and I have an early business meeting,
” Flynn said. “So it will just be you ladies.”

  “Mimosa breakfast. Excellent,” I teased. We said goodnight and then went to check in with the nannies and tuck in the boys. They were already conked out in their cribs and I sent up a small prayer that they’d sleep through the night.

  I planned on heading to the master bedroom, but Flynn took my hand and led me out of the room and into the hallway.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  He shot me a grin but didn’t reply as he pushed the elevator button. We got in and he inserted a brass key. The elevator ascended, and we were quiet. Our silences had long ago become comfortable.

  The doors opened, and I was greeted by the sultry desert night and a panoramic view of the inky sky and stars. Off in the far distance I could see the garish bright lights of the Vegas strip.

  “What’s this?” I asked, taking in the long rectangular pool, lounge chairs, and umbrellas.

  “This,” Flynn said. “Is our private pool. Only we have access to it.”

  “Really?”

  “Did you think I’d build a hotel and then not have a private pool for our own use?”

  “You do spoil me,” I remarked.

  “It’s the other way around, love,” Flynn said, his eyes heated with desire and joy. “Come here.”

  He pulled me into his arms and we began to sway like we were dancing only there wasn’t any music. We didn’t need any.

  After breakfast the next morning, Ash and I left our children in the care of three nannies and went down to a dress boutique in the lobby of the hotel. Everything was ready to wear, one of a kind. If they didn’t have it in your size, you were SOL. Just another example that The Rex experience was elite and exclusive.

  I picked out a floor-length off-the-shoulder white gown. It showed a bit of cleavage, but Ash convinced me I could pull it off with the right bra. I didn’t believe her at first, but the boutique attendant agreed with her. Ash chose a black cocktail dress in the flapper style with a matching black sequined headband.

  When I made a move to look at jewelry, the boutique attendant stopped me, which meant only one thing: Flynn had already bought me something and he wanted to surprise me. Day to day, I wore the diamond studs he’d given me on our wedding day. They were classy, elegant, and went with everything.