Page 90 of Sins of a King

“Fine,” I said, putting a smile on my face and placing a hand on Flynn’s leg, wanting to be as close to him as possible. As if sensing my need, he pulled me closer, resting his hand on the curve of my hip.

“The lad,” Malcolm said, with a chin nod at Flynn, “mentioned you sometimes perform in the club.”

“I do.”

“Excellent. Are you performing tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I’ll be in the audience.”

I squirmed. It would be like stripping in front of my own grandfather. “I’d rather you not.”

“I’m told I can’t miss it.”

“Tell him,” I said to Flynn. “Tell him he can’t watch me perform.”

“You don’t tell Malcolm anything,” Flynn answered pointedly. “He does what he likes.”

“It’s quite provocative,” I said. “I’m not sure I’m okay with my boyfriend’s godfather witnessing me parade around in lingerie.”

“You’re not aiding your cause,” Flynn stage-whispered in my ear. I elbowed him in his side, causing him to chuckle.

“Tell you what,” Malcolm relented. “You let me escort you to this charity event, and I’ll refrain from watching you perform.”

“Thought you were flying home tomorrow,” Flynn said.

“Change of plans,” Malcolm said easily.

“I’d be honored if you’d escort me.”

“You’re going to make me go stag?” Flynn demanded.

“I have two arms, Flynn.”

“Then I’d be honored to be the trophy on your other arm,” Flynn said dryly.

Chapter 26

Lacey sat next to me on the couch, tension in every muscle of her body as she waited for me to flick through the pictures she’d uploaded onto my computer. Last night, she’d been in the audience of the burlesque club with her new camera, snapping away for hours. She had taken at least a hundred photos and not just of the dancers, but of the audience members as well.

“Say something,” she said almost desperately. “You’ve been quiet for ten minutes and I’m scared to death.”

“You’re insanely talented.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” I insisted. “You have a knack for capturing emotion and fleeting moments. Look at this photo!” Alia was standing in the middle of the stage, a little smile playing about her lips. Her long black hair was down, covering one eye, and her hip was cocked. The red sequined flapper gown stood out in stark contrast to her coloring.

“I like that one,” Lacey admitted. “But Ireallylike this one.” Lacey hit the forward arrow and settled on a photo of me.

“Jesus Christ! You have to delete that!”

“Absolutely not! Look at you!”

In the photo, my head was thrown back in rapture, my hand on my thigh, the lights illuminating me from behind. “I look like I’m having an orgasm on stage.”

“That’s exactly what Flynn said when I showed it to him.” Lacey smirked.