Page 61 of The Sinner: James

We stroll through a few large chambers before reaching the dining room.

The place could easily host a ball with hundreds of people in attendance.

He nudges me to the right before we enter the kitchen. The staff works around the kitchen island.

All heads flick up, their eyes pulling to him.

“I need Veronica,” he says.

One woman breaks away from the group and walks into a different room.

She comes back accompanied by another lady.

“Sir?” the woman murmurs, waiting for him to wrap up his phone conversation.

“I need some clothes for her,” he says, pointing at me as if he found me on the street.

“Sure, no problem. I can find something for her.”

“Bring them to my room...” he instructs before gripping my hand and hauling me out of the kitchen.

Nobody looks at me.

We take the stairs to the upper level and follow a long hallway until reaching a spacious bedroom overlooking the pool.

A round bed, two nightstands, and a corner sofa with a couple of armchairs occupy half of the room.

There’s enough space to park a few cars in the middle.

“You sure are bossy,” I say.

He drops my hand and shuts the door.

“Why do you have so many staff members?” I ask.

“Because I can. What else do you need to know?” he throws at me brashly, suggesting I need to keep my mouth shut.

He shrugs out of his tuxedo jacket and unbuttons his shirt all the way down.

My eyes wander over his torso as he peels off his shirt and tosses it on a chair.

A large tattoo covers half of his arm and left shoulder.

My gaze falters as I get distracted by his chiseled chest, sculpted arms, and washboard abs.

“What are you celebrating?”

“A business project I’ve been working on,” he says, spinning away and heading to the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long, and a soft knock on the door summons me to the entrance.

Veronica hands me a stack of clothing––a pair of jeans, a tank top, and a pair of boots.

They are all my size, and the tags are still attached.

I close the door and turn around.

He exits the bathroom, clad in jeans, his fly half open.

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