Page 65 of Dirty Big Sins

Every question flying through my head created another more urgent one. I’d been prepared to be asked about Romeo even though I’d been assured that would not come up. But this? THIS?

We were back in the small waiting room, but we weren’t stopping. Vincent continued to pull me along as we were rushed from that room straight into a small corridor that seemed to lead to the back of the hotel.

“Where are we going?”

“As far away from here as we can get.” Vincent’s gruff answer made me glance over at him and the anger I saw there gave me little to no confidence. I didn’t know what to think. Had that press conference been as disastrous as it felt or was there still a chance this could turn things around?

I didn’t have much time to ponder that question before we emerged from the hotel into the parking deck where a town car waited for us. The driver opened the back door and Vincent nudged me inside. I slid across the sleek leather seat and he followed me in.

“That was some serious bullshit.”

My sentiments exactly.

“How did they know?”

“About Romeo?”

I swiveled sharply. “What?”

The angry expression on Vincent’s face instantly transformed to a blank look. “What?”

“The network,” I said. “What did you think?”

He grabbed my hand and entwined our fingers. “I think we need to talk. A lot has happened that I haven’t had time to discuss with you.”

I sighed. “I’m sure we do. But I’m feeling a little frustrated at the moment. That press conference seemed like a disaster. Don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “It’s probably too soon to say. Gabe mentioned a new press release is going out in the morning about the restaurant opening. We likely won’t know if this plan has legs until then. Although my phone is blowing up at the moment. Damned thing is about to vibrate out of my pocket.”

I giggled, imagining a vibrator in Vincent’s pants. Immature I knew, but the stress right now was real and I’d take humor wherever I could get it.

He pulled his phone out on a sigh and looked down at the screen filled with text messages.

“Apparently we need to check social media.”

“Do we have to? I’m tired and need a break.”

“No, we do not.” He powered down his phone, shoved it back into his pocket, and reached for a button in front of him that opened a hidden panel in the back of the seat to reveal a bottle of champagne chilling and two glasses.

My eyes widened. “Isn’t that clever. And convenient. Although I don’t know that we have anything to celebrate at the moment.”

“Of course, we do,” he said, reaching for the bottle. “We’re alone. Together. And headed somewhere. No one can take that away from us.”

“Where in the world is that? Your house?”

He winced. “No. This is supposed to be a romantic date and if I took you back to my place, I’d have to divest you of that beautiful dress immediately so I could fuck the hell out of you.”

My sex twinged at the thought. “That doesn’t sound awful.”

“Mmmm, my pretty girl likes it when I talk dirty. I really like that about you.”

I relaxed back into the seat, grateful for the change of topic. “Is that all you like?”

“You know it’s not. If you want to hear it, it’s going to take some time. The list is long.”

Warmth spread through my belly as he popped the cork on the champagne, filled one of the glasses and handed it over to me. Then filled his own.

“What shall we toast to?” I asked.

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