Page 39 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

“One person with influence. And that makes us two people with influence. Surely you see that some good can come of this.”

“This is you serving your country?”

“Let me have my fun.”

“Blackmail is fun?”

“Real estate may get your juices flowing, but I like being a little naughty.”

A little?

“I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” I tell her.

“Besides Avery, you mean?” she asks, her voice sounding a warning.

I bite my lips and sigh. “Are you planning anything for the other man?”

“The doorman?” She laughs. “What could I possibly want with him?”

There’s no telling, I think as I remember the doorman in the shower not too far from me.

“I can’t promise Avery won’t want her own revenge. I hope Silas isn’t too attached to New York.”

Jesus.“It’s possible there’s more to the situation than you know. That their relationship isn’t what you think it is,” I say even as my hope of talking sense into her dwindles to nothing.

“Love, you’re adorable. I only sent you one photograph. It’s exactly what I think it is. And I’m holding every card.”

“Well, I hopeAvery’ssatisfied.”

“She’s devastated. Two years, Gibson. And a man? If this gets out, she’ll never be able to show her face.”

Does she hear the hypocrisy? Is our situation only different because we’re both in on the secret? Because in a weak moment years ago, I agreed to this? An unconsummated marriage with a woman I have yet to stop wanting?

“The doorman is a liability. I’m sure Graham will set him up somewhere comfortable if he actually cares about him?—”

“And if he can’t because you take all his money?”

“Then he should have thought about that before he cheated on his wife.”

Marianne the Avenger. It used to be charming. I used to be able to root for her causes, but she’s only getting more ruthless. Like she needs higher stakes to feel alive. “On that note. I’ll let you get back to bed.”

“Oh…my love. You’re not jealous…”

“Of course not,” I lie. “Enjoy your morning.”

“Let me know how your meeting goes.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Bye now.”

I hang up and toss the phone aside. Standing, I grab my laptop and head into the living room, setting up at the desk near the window. Once I eat, I may take a nap, too, but with all these distractions cropping up, I want to make sure I’m not forgetting something important with work.

Lunch arrives twenty minutes later. Toasted sandwiches with sausage, vegetables and cheese alongside a tray of assorted fruits. I knock on Christian’s door. “Food’s here,” I say without waiting for him to answer. Either he’s asleep already or not.

After I’ve settled back at the desk with my food, he comes out, his hair wet, wearing the black tank and joggers again. Today, thesight makes my mouth water. Something’s different. Is it something in me? Something in him?

He glances at me like he can sense my staring, and I try to act like I’m not checking him out, but I don’t know how successful I am.

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