Page 43 of Sins of a King

“No,” I stated. “I draw the line at a professional doing my hair.”

“Why?”

“Because there are levels of being a kept woman.”

“You’re not a kept woman.”

“You’re dressing me in pretty clothes.”

“One outfit. And frankly if you were a kept woman, we’d be—”

“No. Salon.”

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying my money, Barrett.”

I refused to retract and finally Flynn relented. “Fine. You can get ready in a private suite at the hotel with your own makeup and your own hair styling products. Is that all right with you?”

“I suppose,” I said, hiding a smile.

“Barrett?”

“Yeah?”

His stare was blue and piercing. “Do you like to gamble?”

Flynn’s arm snaked around my waist as he escorted me through his secret casino. He wore his standard three-piece gray suit, and when I caught our reflection in one of the casino’s many mirrors, I thought about how good we looked together.

The casino wasn’t at all like the club or hotel; it was its own entity, decorated in gold accents and gleaming wood. Craps, poker, blackjack, and roulette were the games of choice, and I noticed immediately that it was a predominately male crowd. The women that were there were either cocktail waitresses or companions.

“Can I ask you a question?” I leaned closer so we wouldn’t be overheard

Flynn inclined his chin and waited for me to speak. “Why are your establishments geared toward men and not women?”

In his free hand, Flynn carried a glass of scotch. He brought it to his lips and took a sip before he answered. “Men are visual creatures. And they like beautiful women, and they like to drink and gamble. It’s easy to cater to them because they have no problem giving into their baser instincts.”

“And women don’t give into their baser instincts?”

“Do you? Give in to your baser instincts? Think about the night we first met. You wanted to sleep with me then.”

“Arrogant statement,” I groused.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“But you didn’t go through with it? Why?”

“Because of my brother and the trading me for—”

“See what I mean? A man wouldn’t have cared. A man would’ve gone for it.”

“You didn’t,” I pointed out.

“I don’t take advantage of women. If we’d had sex then, with all that stuff between us, you would’ve woken up in the morning and felt regret.”

“And men don’t feel regret?”

“Not saying that. Just saying that men can have sex without emotion a lot easier than women.” He looked at me. “If we’d met under normal circumstances, would you have gone home with me the night we met just because you wanted to, or would you have waited because you think that’s what you’re supposed to do? What society tells you you’re supposed to do?”