Sin (Vegas Nights #1) by Emma Hart

Author:Emma Hart [Hart, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emma Hart
Published: 2017-07-16T16:00:00+00:00

***

By the time Damien walked back through the door with a frown on his face, I’d finished my drink, called and paid for the check, and finally beaten my nemesis level on Candy Crush.

He slowly walked up to the table, staring down at his phone like he’d just gotten terrible news.

Which, if that conversation was about what I thought it was, he hadn’t exactly received great news…

He stopped right in front of me. Very carefully, he dragged his gaze from his screen and up to my face. Our eyes met, and where I expected to see annoyance or frustration, maybe even anger, I saw a mixture of bemusement and confusion.

“Did you…” he trailed off, then rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Did you send my father a Cease and Desist?”

“Yes.” I nodded to punctuate it. “I sent you one, too, if you didn’t check your email yet.”

What the hell? Might as well put it out there.

His mouth opened and closed. Dropping his attention to his phone, he licked his lips and swiped at the screen with his thumb. “So you did,” he said, surprise flitting across his face. “That’s…random? Strange? Confusing?”

It was?

“It is?” Now, I was frowning.

“Yes.” He looked back at the email as if he didn’t understand what he was reading. “What is it for? Is this because—Dahlia, I’m lost. Completely lost.”

Confused.

I was very, very confused.

Did he—oh my God. Didn’t he know his dad had been offering formally for the bar?

What the hell?

“I don’t think this is the right place for this conversation.” I hopped off my high seat, clutching my purse, and reached for his hand. It felt so natural, that even as I pulled him along, it didn’t seem right to let go.

Apparently, he felt the same, because he adjusted his hand to wrap his fingers around mine.

I pulled him right out onto the sidewalk and down a few buildings to where a quiet—thankfully clean—alleyway was tucked away. It was the back route to Scarlet, and one I’d taken as a teen when I’d crept out during some of my office work shifts during my one-month-long rebellious phase.

“Did you drive here?” I asked Damien, letting go of his hand when we reached the tiny parking lot tucked behind the bar. Parking lot was generous—it was four spaces.

“No. I walked over from Goldies.”

“Get in.” I nodded toward my car and unlocked it. My red Jaguar was sleek and shiny thanks to a valet while I’d been working.

Damien got in the car after me. I waited until he’d buckled up before pulling away and sliding into the Vegas traffic.

“All right,” he said when we came to a traffic standstill. “What’s going on?”

I took a deep breath and tapped a light beat to the bottom of the steering wheel. “Those notices weren’t random, Damien.” I glanced at him. “My lawyer called me about half an hour before Fergus told me you were at the bar. Your father made a formal offer for The Scarlet Letter. His second one today.”

“His second one today?”

“Mhmm.

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