Page 82 of Sins of a King

“Campbell,” Flynn answered. I heard rapid fire talk on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there.” He clicked off and got out of bed.

“What happened?” I asked through a sleepy voice.

“One of the girls has been drugged. Lacey is with her now and called the doctor we have on retainer.”

“A dancer was drugged?”

“No, one of the girls in the brothel,” he explained.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

I watched him rummage around for clothes—jeans and a sweater.

“Should I come with you?” I threw my legs over the side of the bed.

He shook his head. “No. I’ll fill you in later.”

I tried to shove away the sudden unwarranted feelings of dejection when I said, “Okay.”

Flynn came to my side, leaned down, and kissed my lips. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not that—there’s a mess to clean up. The fewer people involved at this stage, the better.”

“Go,” I said. “And let me know if you end up needing my help.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Stay here. Order room service. Don’t go home.”

He kissed me again and then left. I climbed out of his bed, even though I wanted to linger and go back to sleep, but I was worried about the girl who had been drugged—and worried for Flynn. The stress of managing a hotel empire was an exhausting job. Sleep for me would be nonexistent, so I decided to run myself into the ground until I was tired enough to nap.

I did an hour of yoga, and by the end, I still hadn’t heard from Flynn. As I cooled down and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, my cell phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

“You bitch,” Ash said.

“What did I do now?”

“You didn’t tell me you were going to The Houston Charity Gala.”

“I didn’t know it was The Houston Charity Gala,” I explained. “How did you find out I was going?”

“I’m on the committee, hello. Your name is next to Flynn’s on the guest list.”

“You and your committees.”

“I’m wealthy and well-bred. What else am I supposed to do but be on committees?” she joked. “You go shopping for a dress? Because no offense, you don’t have those kinds of clothes.”

I wasn’t offended because it was true. “Lacey took me shopping, and I bought a killer dress.”

“Ah, becoming the perfect society trophy, huh?”

“You annoy me.”

“So tell me about the dress. I’m excited to see you in formal attire.”

“Purple. Elegant. Whatever,” I said. “I ran into John.”

“Oh?”

“It was awkward.”