King of Sloth (Kings of Sin, 4)

“I’m sorry. Back the fuck up.” Isabella held up one hand. “You can’t not elaborate on Spain. What happened with Xavier after he carried you out like an extremely hot caveman?”

I sighed, regretting my decision to fill my friends in on the past two weeks. I’d flown to Spain at the beginning of the month, but it felt like a lifetime ago. “That’s your takeaway? Did you miss the part about Alberto Castillo’s death?”

“Yes, it’s very sad,” Isabella said. “Now, about the beach.

What did he say?”

“Was he jealous?” Vivian added.

“Did you two kiss?” Alessandra asked.

I glared at them, wishing past me had had the foresight to befriend less nosy people.

“I’m not telling you what he said, he has no reason to be jealous, and absolutely not,” I said, appalled. “He’s a client.”

The four of us were enjoying “happy hour” with homemade cocktails, takeout, and a new rom-com at my apartment. Normally, we’d go out, but I was too tired after work and my recent travels.

Looking back, I would’ve canceled our plans had I known I would be subjected to an interrogation.

“Technically, his family is your client. It’s not the same thing, and you should totally kiss him. He’s so cute.” Isabella stretched her arms over her head and glanced fondly at my goldfish, whom she’d taken care of during my time abroad.

He was a temporary pet I’d adopted after the previous tenant left him behind five years ago, hence why I’d simply named him The Fish. There was no use attaching sentimentality to something that wouldn’t last.

“Regardless, I wouldn’t kiss Xavier Castillo if he were the last man on earth,” I said coolly. “He is not my type.”

He’s also gorgeous, and kind, and smarter than people give him credit for, a voice sang in my head.

I pressed the tip of my pen against my notepad with more force than necessary. Shut up.

Sure, Xavier and I had reached a tentative understanding after Colombia. And yes, I was helping him fulfill the inheritance clause, which might be ethically murky since I was on the committee, but the will never stated members couldn’t assist.

Besides, from a PR perspective, the story of a prodigal party son turned responsible business owner was gold, so I was technically just doing my job.

Sure. The same annoying voice tittered. That’s why you’re helping him. Because of your job.

I said shut. UP.

I was so distracted by the shit stirrer in my head that I almost missed Alessandra’s next words.

“Maybe he’s not your type, but never say never.” Her blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “I think he has a thing for you. I’ve seen him staring at you at multiple events over the years. He can’t look away.”

“Not you too.” I gave up writing my review and exchanged my pen for wine. “We’re not in middle school. He doesn’t have a ‘thing’ for me, and he stares at me because…well, who knows why he does the things he does?”

The twinkle grew brighter. “If you say so.”

She sounded suspiciously like my internal voice.

Isabella, Vivian, and I had been a trio for years before we brought Alessandra into the fold, but she fit into the group seamlessly. I liked her as much as I could like any human (most of whom were deeply unlikable), but I did not appreciate being ganged up on.

“Perry Wilson never elaborated on that beach picture he posted,” Isabella mused. “God, we never see the good stuff.”

“Don’t talk to me about Perry Wilson.” I was still devising a plan to dethrone that sniveling, slandering toad. “Mark my words. By this time next year, his blog will be dead. I’ll make sure of it.” No friend ever served me, and no enemy ever wronged me, whom I have not repaid in full. Lucius Cornelius Sulla’s self-written epitaph.

There was a reason it was one of my favorite quotes. “Anyway, on to cheerier topics,” I said. “How’s Josephine?”

Josephine, or Josie, was Vivian and Dante’s daughter. She was less than two months old, and she already had her parents wrapped around her tiny finger.

“She’s great. I mean, she cries all the time, and I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in a month, but…” A smile touched Vivian’s lips. “It’s worth it.”

I suppressed a grimace. Josie was adorable, but if I didn’t love her and her mother so much, the mushiness would make me gag. “It’s hard being away from her, but she’s in good hands.

Greta fusses over her like she’s her own daughter,” Vivian added. Greta was her housekeeper and Dante’s de facto mother since his parents were too busy gallivanting around the world to be, well, parents.

“And Dante?” Isabella’s eyes sparkled. “How’s he doing?” “He thinks Josie or I will break if he looks away for more than five minutes.” Vivian rolled her eyes, but her voice was filled with affection. “Did I tell you he tried to hire bodyguards to stand outside her room twenty-four seven? I swear…”

My phone pinged with a new text while my friends teased her about Dante’s legendary overprotectiveness. He terrified pretty much everyone around him, but when it came to his wife and daughter, he was a teddy bear.

XAVIER

Can you meet me at Valhalla in an hour? I have some important updates

XAVIER

P.S. I talked to Kai

My heart skipped a beat.

I wasn’t sure if I’d overstepped by asking Kai for help, but I trusted him, and Xavier needed assistance beyond what I could give.

Important updates. Did that mean he’d committed to a plan? I’d held off on pushing him about it because 1) I had a ton of work to catch up on at the office, and 2) I didn’t want to spook him.

But the clock was ticking, and he needed to get moving if he wanted to meet the May deadline.

“Sloane? Everything okay?” Alessandra asked.

“Yes.” I tore my eyes from my phone. “Everything’s fine.”

As curious as I was about Xavier’s updates, it was girls’ night. He could wait.

 An hour and a half later, I arrived at Valhalla.

By a stroke of coincidence, Vivian had to leave our movie night early because Josie couldn’t go to sleep without her. Then a very drunk Isabella had tried to take The Fish out of his aquarium and pet him, which was when Alessandra took her firmly by the hand and escorted her home.

“You know how to keep a guy waiting,” Xavier drawled as I approached. I wasn’t a club member, so he had to meet me at the entrance and bring me inside.

He leaned against a marble column, the picture of casual devastation in a white cashmere sweater and jeans. Despite the fall chill, he was coatless, and his sweater contrasted sharply with the richness of his tan.

As I approached, Xavier’s eyes swept over my black coat dress, tights, and boots and back up again, where they lingered on my face just long enough to make my cheeks heat.

“I told you I would be late,” I said as a passing breeze ruffled his hair in the most distracting manner. “Though I don’t understand why you insisted on updating me in person when texts, phone calls, and emails exist.”

I fell into step beside him and deliberately focused on the impressive foyer instead of the man beside me.

I’d visited Valhalla as a guest a few times, but its splendor never failed to amaze. Gourmet restaurants, a Regency-worthy ballroom, a world-class spa, a helipad in case a member was arriving by air, and an exclusive slip at Chelsea Piers in case they were arriving by water—no detail went unchecked.

“True, but then I wouldn’t get to see you.” Xavier’s dimples made a dazzling appearance.

The heat spread from my cheeks to my neck. I’d never had a problem thinking clearly when he was around, but a dangerous haze permeated my brain as we ascended the staircase to the second floor.

I blamed my friends. They’d put the stupid idea of a kiss in my head, and now I couldn’t stop picturing the press of his lush, sensual mouth against mine and the—

No, stop it. This is deeply inappropriate behavior.

“Stop flirting and get to the point,” I snapped for my benefit as much as his. I deliberately kept a foot of distance between us, but my nerve endings sparked and sizzled like live wires in the rain. “What are the quote unquote ‘important updates’?”

God, I shouldn’t have worn this stupid dress. I was roasting in cashmere.

“I’ve decided what I want to do.” We stopped in front of carved-oak double doors. Xavier turned the knobs, the lean muscles of his arms flexing at the movement. Stop noticing his arms. “I’m opening a nightclub.”

The doors swung open noiselessly, revealing a gorgeous library that put the one from Beauty and the Beast to shame. Normally, it’d be heaven, but my feet remained rooted to the hall.

A line etched between Xavier’s brows. “Sloane?”

“A nightclub,” I repeated. My heart beat double time. “That’s brilliant.”

If there was one thing he knew and knew well, it was parties. Entertainment. And his bar-design sketches…the answer had been obvious all along.

“Yeah? You think so?” Vulnerability touched his face for a moment before retreating behind a smile. “It’s actually a mixed concept. Kind of like Legends except less sports oriented.”

Legends was a well-known nightspot owned by former college football star and Heisman winner Blake Ryan, and it was the preferred watering hole for many top athletes.

“I love that,” I said honestly. As an unapologetic multitasker, I appreciated anything that served multiple functions.

“Come on. I want to show you something.” Xavier led me deeper into the library, which was nearly empty this late at night. On any other day, I would’ve been enraptured by the forest of leather-bound books and rare stained-glass windows, but I was too intrigued by Xavier’s plan.

We stopped at a massive table anchoring the center of the room. A spill of papers scattered across the mahogany surface, and I recognized Xavier’s distinctive scrawl from several feet away. “I’ve been here since the afternoon,” he said. “I ran into Kai at the bar, and our conversation got me thinking…” He handed me a printout of the top ten clubs in the world. “What do these have in common?”

“Music and alcohol?”

Xavier fixed me with a wry stare. “Besides that.”

“I have no idea.” I knew enough to do my job, but I wasn’t a nightlife aficionado.

“Interesting locations. Signature features. A tightly targeted clientele. And yes, great music and drinks.” Xavier tapped the printout, his eyes brightening the more he talked. “This is Manhattan. Nightspots come and go every week. To stand out, you need something that makes people talk. Something they haven’t seen before that they’ll automatically associate with you.” His voice lowered. “Picture it, Luna. A club that’s tucked away, hidden behind an unassuming door—the type you walk past every day without a second thought. But when you walk in… it’s a different world. You don’t just hear the thump of the bass; you feel it in your bones. The music, the rhythm, the laughter. The lights are low, and you can practically smell the pheromones in the air.” His words took on a hypnotic cadence, transforming the stately library around us into a den of hedonism—of sensual touches, insistent beats, and beautiful bodies grinding against each other amidst a backdrop of velvet and liquor.

My breath shortened. Blood rushed to the surface of my skin, warming it to an uncomfortable degree. I was suddenly hyperaware of Xavier’s proximity, and when he spoke again, the velvety timbre sent a shot of pure dopamine through my system.

“Everyone around you is lost in the intoxication of the moment,” he said softly. “There are no worries, only wants. Every corner is an opportunity for clandestine meetings; every drink is another step away from the real world. That’s the true secret to a memorable nightclub. The minute you step inside, you’re not in a club; you’re in a place where anything can happen with anyone.” His voice lowered even further. “Whatever your greatest desire, you have a chance to realize it. All you have to do is let go.”

All you have to do is let go.

Call me delusional, but I could’ve sworn he wasn’t talking about the club anymore.

His gaze rained embers on my face, dark and hot and knowing. My head swam like I’d downed half a dozen of the drinks he’d mentioned, and though we were still at Valhalla, surrounded by serious-looking men and women in suits, my senses ignited like we were somewhere else. Somewhere secluded, where we—

The library doors opened to a loud peal of laughter. Glares swung toward the entrance, where the newcomers quickly quieted, still grinning, but the interruption was enough to restore my rationality. It washed over me like a cold shower, wiping away the haze Xavier’s words had induced.

He was my client, and we were discussing business. That was all.

I took a tiny step back and forced a cool smile. “Spoken like a business graduate.” I examined the list again, hoping he hadn’t noticed my temporary loss of control. “Do you have a location idea and business plan in the works?”

Xavier’s eyes gleamed with amused knowledge, but he didn’t call me out. “Yes. The location will be tough to get, but Kai gave me some useful contacts.” He retrieved another paper from the table.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the list.

There were only eight names, but they were the only eight that mattered for his purposes.

“This is…impressive,” I said, for lack of a better word. “Have you spoken to any of them yet?”

“Only the first one. We have a meeting scheduled in two weeks.”

The first and arguably most intimidating one. God. Every entrepreneur in the country would kill for a team like this. I knew Kai would pull through.

He’d been skeptical about Xavier, but I’d finally convinced him after pointing out what a great profile it would make for Mode de Vie’s annual Movers and Shakers issue.

“Also, thank you for talking to Kai for me.” Xavier’s face softened. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Just like that, a soft hum buzzed to life in my veins again. “You don’t have to thank me.” I deliberately avoided his eyes as I set the papers down on the table. “That was the easy part. Opening a club in six months in Manhattan? That’s the hard part.” “Don’t I know it,” he said with a rueful laugh. “But I have a plan, which is more than I had a week ago.”

“I’m glad.” My smile formed of its own accord. His father had forced his hand, but Xavier appeared genuinely excited about the project. Okay, maybe excited was pushing it, but he was committed.

“Anyway, I wanted to show you since this was your idea.” Xavier gestured at the remaining documents, which contained notes, scribbles, and ideas for the club. “If it weren’t for you…” His face softened further. “I don’t know where I’d be.”

The hum in my blood intensified.

I attempted a witty reply, but a strange haze permeated the air and robbed me of speech. It was different from the one earlier, when he’d been talking about the club. It was thicker, more potent, and I was suddenly, painfully aware of how empty the library had gotten.

Of how close Xavier stood.

Of how his body heat sank into my skin, urging me to step closer, just a little bit, so my chest pressed against his and I could discover for myself whether his hair felt as soft as it looked between my fingers.

It’s the alcohol. Never mind the fact I’d had my last drink two hours ago or that it’d become my default excuse. It was the only plausible explanation for why I was feeling these…things around Xavier Castillo, of all people.

“Sloane.” His quiet voice made my name sound like a caress. “Yes?” The breathlessness that escaped sounded nothing like me. It belonged to a stranger, the type who would succumb to dimples and broad shoulders and eyes the color of rich melting chocolate.

“You should leave.” A rough edge turned his words into a warning.

He was right. I should. It was late, and I had to finish writing my movie review, and…and…My mind blanked.

“Why?”

Another shiver ran down my neck when the distance between us shortened by another inch.

“Because it’s late,” Xavier said softly. “And because…” He trailed off when I licked my lips in a brief, involuntary movement.

His gaze latched on to my mouth, and my parched throat dried even more.

The world narrowed to this very moment, beneath the dim lights of the library, listening to our escalating breaths sync with each other.

And when he let out a tortured “fuck” and dipped his head, molding his mouth to mine, it didn’t even occur to me to pull away.

This was the world, and I never wanted to leave.

Logic and reasoning fell to tatters in the scorching tangle of lips and teeth. One hand grabbed my nape and pulled me closer; the other splayed across my back, burning through cashmere and skin to turn me boneless.

My mouth parted in a moan, and his tongue pushed inside, caressing mine in strokes so lazy and sensual, I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. He tasted like an addictive combination of heat and spices, and the warmth of his touch curled through my stomach, between my thighs, and traveled all the way down to my toes.

I didn’t know how long we stayed there, but it was enough for me to slide my fingers through his hair and confirm that yes, it really was that soft, and yes, he really did taste that good, and no, I’d never, ever come this close to unraveling.

I would’ve happily drowned in the embrace, but reality intervened as it always did, and we broke apart with a gasp for breath.

We stared at each other, our chests heaving. My lips tingled in the aftermath, and the air felt like ice water after the heat of our kiss.

A hint of red glazed Xavier’s cheekbones. I noticed with some embarrassment that his lips were swollen, and…

Fuck. I did that. We did that. I…We’d…I’d let him…

This time, reality wasn’t so much a gentle slip as it was a slap in the face.

Every muscle locked as the implications of what just happened crashed over me.

I’d just kissed a client. Not only a client, but someone whose inheritance I was one-fifths in charge of thanks to some stupid fucking will I’d never asked to participate in.

Dread curdled in my gut.

Xavier must’ve picked up on my mood shift because his shoulders tensed to match mine. “Sloane—”

“I have to go.” I grabbed my purse, which had fallen to the ground sometime during our kiss. “We’ll discuss your business plan later.”

I spun around and scrambled out of the library before he had a chance to respond.

The thunder of my pulse followed me all the way downstairs, out the door, and across the grounds to Valhalla’s gated entrance.

I’d just told my friends Xavier wasn’t my type, and then I’d gone and done that. What the hell was I thinking?

I hadn’t been thinking. That was the problem. I’d let my hormones take the wheel, and they’d driven me straight to Stupidville.

“It’s the dry spell,” I said aloud. Either that, or Isabella had acquired a magical ability to manifest anything she said into reality. Normally, I’d be terrified—she read way too much dinosaur erotica to safely possess such a power—but I would rather deal with that than consider the remaining explanation.

I, Sloane Kensington, was attracted to Xavier Castillo.

No, not just attracted to, but liked. Enough to forget my strict rules about not getting involved with clients. Enough to let him kiss me and to kiss him back.

I groaned and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes.

I’m so fucked.