Page 497 of The Sinner: James

His lips curl into a smirk, surprise threading through his gaze.

He steps back as if he wants to bolt and hits Thomas’ chest.

My bodyguard doesn’t move, forcing him to move forward.

“You’re not going to disappear on me right now, are you?” I say, slowly setting the glass of scotch down.

He tears his gaze away from me and looks around, taking inventory of the white chairs, dark sofas, and soft backlighting.

“What is this?” he asks.

“Your flight to freedom. Or, as I like to call it, your last chance to get out of the hole you’ve dug yourself into.”

He moves closer while I discretely motion to Thomas to leave us alone.

With a few steps, Tiago closes the space between us.

His strides are paced, his gaze unfaltering. His eyes brim with unabashed curiosity.

He wears dark jeans and a slim-fit T-shirt. His arms are muscular and well-defined, and so are his chest and flat stomach.

“Sit,” I say as I slide into a chair.

He lowers himself into his seat.

“We’re not leaving, are we?” he asks, glancing at the pilot’s cabin.

“As tempted as I am, I’m not kidnapping you. So no. We have a few minutes to talk. Then you can leave or stay. It sits well with me either way,” I say, taking my jacket off.

His eyes roam over my chest and arms.

“Did you tell anyone where you are?” I ask.

“Do I look like an idiot?”

I guess sarcasm runs in the family.

“We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t an idiot,” I toss at him evenly.

I almost see the jolt in his body as he represses his impulse to react.

“Did anyone follow you?” I ask again.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Good.”

I lean back in my seat.

“Who are you?” he asks, his eyes diving deep into mine.

Smiling, I flick the pack and pull out a cigarette.

“You know...” I say mellowly while lighting my cigarette.

I take a drag and smile.

“Since I’ve been on this, um... Let’s call it a journey,” I say. “That started almost a week ago with a knock on my door in my hotel suite in Monte Carlo...” I murmur, checking the time on my watch again. “Almost every person I’ve run into asked me the same dumb question, which is surprising,” I continue before taking another drag and pushing the smoke out. “Especially, considering that the answer is written all over my damn face,” I add, my eyes locked with his. “I guess people knew the answer, yet they couldn’t fathom that as unique and special as you are, and as much of a headache as you are, you might be related to someone else.”

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