[truyện Tiếng Anh] The Next Sin

Author: Georgia Cates

Bleu MacAllister
Southaven, Mississippi
My favorite violin and piano duet plays as I attempt to work. It’s bing more difficult to be productive without an office. Trying to do freelance investigation from my bedroom within our rental house? Challenging.
The song “Time Forgotten” plays. It’s a reminder that neither time nor Sinclair Breckenridge has been forgotten. Three months and more than four thousand miles separate us. It isn’t enough. I think of him all the time. And it’s a fucking problem.
I push the thoughts of Sin from my head and scroll through the photos from my latest PI job—a clear case of a bitter wife looking to nail her cheating husband’s ass to the wall. My agingputer’s trackpad sticks and races through my collection of incriminating photographs.
“Dammit!”
Images of my client’s husband and his lover flutter before me, each picture flashing like a scene from a stop-motion movie I don’t wish to watch for a second time. I tap furiously against the trackpad in an effort to make it cease.
“Stop. Stop. Stop, you son of a bitch.”
My laptop finally obeys after a bit of physical abuse, but not beforeing to a standstill on the one and only image I have of Sinclair Breckenridge and me together.
Wow … talk about coincidence. I have thousands of pictures on thisputer. What are the odds it would land on this one?
It’s karma. Or bad juju. I don’t know. Maybe the universe wants to torture me.
The photo in front of me is a shot of us dancing during my initiation ceremony at Thane and Isobel’s country estate. We’re surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight and Sin is cradling my face with his hands. I remember everything about that moment. He told...

 

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Chapter One

Bleu MacAllister

Southaven, Mississippi

My favorite violin and piano duet plays as I attempt to work. It’s becoming more difficult to be productive without an office. Trying to do freelance investigation from my bedroom within our rental house? Challenging.

The song “Time Forgotten” plays. It’s a reminder that neither time nor Sinclair Breckenridge has been forgotten. Three months and more than four thousand miles separate us. It isn’t enough. I think of him all the time. And it’s a fucking problem.

I push the thoughts of Sin from my head and scroll through the photos from my latest PI job—a clear case of a bitter wife looking to nail her cheating husband’s ass to the wall. My aging computer’s trackpad sticks and races through my collection of incriminating photographs.

“Dammit!”

Images of my client’s husband and his lover flutter before me, each picture flashing like a scene from a stop-motion movie I don’t wish to watch for a second time. I tap furiously against the trackpad in an effort to make it cease.

“Stop. Stop. Stop, you son of a bitch.”

My laptop finally obeys after a bit of physical abuse, but not before coming to a standstill on the one and only image I have of Sinclair Breckenridge and me together.

Wow … talk about coincidence. I have thousands of pictures on this computer. What are the odds it would land on this one?

It’s karma. Or bad juju. I don’t know. Maybe the universe wants to torture me.

The photo in front of me is a shot of us dancing during my initiation ceremony at Thane and Isobel’s country estate. We’re surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight and Sin is cradling my face with his hands. I remember everything about that moment. He told me I was special and then leaned in to kiss my forehead. He had not told me he loved me but I think he was wrestling with saying those three words. I recognized the look in his eyes because I’d been seeing it in my own reflection for some time.

I avoid this picture. Looking at it breaks my stupid heart all over again. I should drag it to the trash and delete it for good. I want to but I can’t bring myself to pull the trigger. That seems to be a common problem with me these days.

I was on the plane home when I discovered the picture on my phone. I wish I hadn’t seen it until I was back on the ground again. The image of us together sent me into a full-blown panic attack midflight. I was forced into the tiny lavatory to talk myself down. I was lucky. The episode wasn’t one of the bad ones but an enclosed area lacking proper ventilation couldn’t be worse when you feel like you’re smothering to death.

I took thousands of photographs while I was in Edinburgh. I must have at least five hundred of Sin—most of which are candid since he was usually unaware. Those are my favorites. I was always behind the camera—and never in front of it—so none of my pictures are of us together. That’s why I treasure this one. Many thanks to whoever used my phone to capture this moment.

I touch the screen. I stroke my finger down his face but it feels nothing like the real thing. I close my eyes so I can imagine the way his scruff felt against my skin.

He rarely grew what I would call a beard. He always kept his facial hair short and scruffy. And I loved it, especially when he would drag his face down the center of my body just to hear me squeal. But the best was when he’d push the crotch of my panties aside and rub his chin up and down between my legs.

“Holy shit, Bleu. That’s him, isn’t it?” I jerk when I hear Ellison’s voice over my shoulder. “That’s the man you were with in Scotland.”

I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I’ve allowed her to sneak up and catch me looking at this photograph. I was preoccupied. That’s my only excuse.

Ellison has interrogated me nonstop about my relationship with Sin. I’ve been vague. She’s on a need-to-know-only basis. That means I haven’t told her shit. But I want to. I need someone to tell me this excruciating pain in my heart is going to ease.

“Yes.” That’s my Breck. My admission feels like a ton of bricks lifted from my shoulders.

“Damn. That is one hottie Scottie.”

“I know.” I sigh as I prop my chin in my hand. I look at the handsome face of the only man in this world besides my father who has been willing to take me the way I am.

Two men. Both know the darkness I carry inside. But they love me anyway.

I’ve lost one. I’m losing the other. And it’s killing me.

“My God, Bleu. Look at the way he’s holding you … like you’re his everything. I don’t know how you walked away from him.”

You’d be surprised by the things you can do when you’re staring death in the face.

“My job was over.”

“You haven’t told me anything about it. Or him. Was it good?”

I recall the words he used to describe what being together was like for him. “The best ever.”

“You don’t think you’ll see him again?”

“No.” I won’t if I want to continue to live.

I feel Ellison’s supportive hand on my shoulder. “That’s too bad, sis.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Ellison plops down on my bed. “At least now I understand why you’ve been brooding for the last three months. I would mourn the loss of that hottie too. But it’s time to get out and move on. You can’t sit in this house and never socialize again.”

 

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Has she lost touch with reality? “Do I need to remind you that I’ve never socialized? This isn’t new for me.”

“But you didn’t know what you were missing before. You’ve had a taste of great sex. There’s no turning back.”

“I don’t want to have sex with anyone else.” No one will ever make me feel the way Sin did. I’m certain it would only be a disappointment so there’s no point trying.

“I get it. You don’t have to go out and find your next lay tonight but you do have to go out.”

Says who? “No, I don’t.”

“Please, Bleu. I’m going to Memphis with some work friends tonight. We’re going to Beale Street.”

Beale is Memphis’s version of Bourbon Street. I was assigned to patrol it when I was on the force. Nothing but trouble.

“We’re meeting at Coyote Ugly in a couple hours. You’ll have fun. I promise it’ll help take your mind off your Scottish hottie.”

I have some serious doubts about that but Ellison has dated a lot. She probably knows the remedy for this pain better than I do.

“Who’s going?” I don’t really handle people well, specifically silly females. I have no patience for them.

“Clancy and April.” She’s counting people off on her fingers as she says their names. “Bree, Ashley, and Callie for sure. Maybe more. I never really know until I get there.”

I don’t like to make small talk with people I’m not acquainted with. I wasn’t blessed with the gift of gab.

Besides, I have a date. I’m spending the evening with my camera. I have shots to get for a photo contest I plan to enter.

Ellison must see my hesitation. “I know you don’t love crowds but they’re all cool. Swear.”

My sister doesn’t understand how painfully awkward going out is for me. “I’d rather have toothpicks driven into my eyeballs.”

“That can be arranged if you say you won’t go.”

I guess I can drink whisky until I drown out the lady chitchat. “I’ll go for the Johnnie Walker.”

“Yes!” Ellison gives the air a fist pump. “Be ready to leave at seven.”

* * *

I’m not sure what I was thinking when I agreed to this. I’m southern but not country. There are too many cowboy hats and boots in this place for me.

I’m not a fan of drunken people dancing on the bar or letting strangers take shots from their bared abdomens. I swear I will beat Ellison’s ass if she tries either.

Ellison’s new work friends aren’t my kind of people. In their defense, I suppose not many are. At least they’re better than the ones she had at her old job in Memphis.

I hold up my empty glass when our server comes around and she returns with my third Johnnie Walker of the night. It’s going to take quite a few more of these to achieve an acceptable level of amnesia where Sinclair Breckenridge is concerned.

“You go, sista.” Ellison holds up her drink. “Here’s to getting wasted and forgetting about …” She shrugs and giggles. “See? I’ve already forgotten what I’m supposed to be forgetting.”

Her poison for the night is Long Island iced tea so she’s already drunk. I know this by her annoying horselaugh. Classic Ellison.

Is she referring to the doctor who asked for the threesome with another man? I should go kick his ass for hurting my sister. “Who are you drinking to forget?”

She shakes her head and purses her lips. “Not going there, Bleu. We’re here for one reason and one reason only—to have a fucking fantastic time so I refuse to talk about that douche rocket.”

I’ve been so wrapped up in myself lately that I’ve failed to consider the problems my sister has been having. She had a humiliating incident with the ER doctor she was dating, which was really unfortunate since she was already choosing baby names for the four children she planned to have with him. She left her nursing job of more than two years because she was passed over for a promotion, which by all accounts should’ve been hers. She took care of Harry by herself the entire time I was gone. And although I’m back, she’s the nurse. I’m not sure I’ve been all that much help since returning.

She has a lot resting on her shoulders. I’ve been selfish, too focused on my own hurt to be mindful of Ellison’s troubles.

“You’re right. I want you to have a good time. But I want to talk about the things going on when you’re ready.”

Oh God. She has her “I’m gonna clobber you with a drunk hug” look. And she does, nearly sending me off my barstool onto the floor. “I love you, Bleu.”

Ellison’s an affectionate drunk. She loves everyone. I guess a friendly drunk is always better than a fighting one. I’ve seen my fair share of those while working undercover and it never ends well.

“O … kay, Elli. Maybe you should slow down with the Long Islands.”

“Come on, Bleu. This is only my third one.”

Her speech is slowed but not yet slurred. I’d prefer it didn’t come to that. I’m not in the mood to babysit a drunken Ellison.

“It’s your third in an hour and a half.”

“That’s a mighty fine high horse you sit upon. I wonder if you’d give me a ride some time.”

I’m straightening in my seat and helping my sister do the same when my eyes catch those of a man I haven’t seen in ages.

 

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“Bleu MacAllister.”

I push Ellison upright. “Cody Wilson.”

He grins and those dimples I remember from years ago make an appearance. “Wow. It’s been years.”

“At least seven or eight.”

God, I once adored Cody. We met when I was seven, after I came to live with my new family. He was my neighbor, eight houses down the street. We were best buddies until junior high. He was my only friend in the world—until he kissed me. I kicked him in the balls and that was the end of our friendship. I’ve always felt badly about doing that to him.

I didn’t dislike being kissed by Cody. In fact, I liked it very much after I had some time to think about it, but I was caught off guard in the moment. Harry had been training me for several months and I guess I had a snap reaction. It’s unfortunate his balls were the ones to pay.

What is he doing back in Memphis? “The last I heard from Dad, you were in the Air Force stationed somewhere on the other side of the world.”

“I was but I got out a few years ago and moved back. My mom’s health hasn’t been great for a while now.”

That’s right. Mrs. Wilson is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. She didn’t have a clue who I was the last time I saw her.

“I’m a pilot for Delta now.”

Weird. Knowing he flies planes just made him a little more attractive. “Nice.”

“What about you?”

“I was a police officer for a couple of years and then a special agent. I left the Bureau to go freelance.” Not the whole truth.

“What does freelance involve?”

More naked asses than I’d like. “I get hired to obtain the proof of cheating husbands and wives. My clients are mostly people in the midst of nasty divorces.”

He lifts a brow. “Sounds interesting.”

Interesting is not how I’d describe it. “More like disturbing. I feel like I’m mostly shooting really bad porn with middle-aged people during their midlife crises.”

He laughs.

“Sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t put such unsavory images in your head.”

“You don’t sound fulfilled by catching cheaters in action. Have you considered going back to police work or the FBI?”

If only I could.

“I was following in Dad’s footsteps but it turns out it wasn’t for me.” Lie.

I was awesome at being an officer and an agent. I think it’s a job that could’ve made me happy for a long time but I ruined my career when I chose to pursue Thane. I’d be screwed if the FBI investigated me and discovered my connection to The Fellowship.

“I’ve considered opening a professional photography studio.” I’d prefer babies and brides over naked, cheating asses any day.

“You always had a camera around your neck. Or a violin in your hands. Do you still play?”

“Every day.” It’s the only thing that brings me comfort, as though it bridges the gap between Sin and me. I sometimes imagine he’s with me and we’re playing Canon in D Major together.

I know. Totally nuts.

“I play bass with a band. It’s just for fun but we have a gig here tonight. We go on in forty minutes. I’d love for you to stick around.”

“Oh, that’s right. You play guitar.” I can’t believe I forgot that. I always thought he looked hot strumming that thing.

“Our fiddler had to cancel on us at the last minute.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Very, and even more so considering we’re in Coyote Ugly. This crowd always expects to hear ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia.’”

“Yeah, that’s a super one.”

“And not possible without a fiddler.”

“Definitely not,” I agree.

A grin spreads across Cody’s face. “You still know it?”

“Hell, yeah.” It’s the only country song I know.

“What a coincidence.” He shrugs and points toward the door. “I happen to have Digby’s violin in my truck.”

“Oh God, no.” I’ve never performed publicly except for recitals as a kid, and those were involuntary.

“I don’t play for other people.” I use my violin as private therapy.

“You’d be surprised by how much fun it is.”

He’s crazy if he thinks I’d go on stage without practicing. “We’d need to rehearse.”

“We have forty minutes.”

“Really? You expect me to practice with you for less than an hour and then join your band on stage to perform in front of all these people?”

“Why not? You’re a fantastic fiddler. You have the song memorized forward and back.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“Probably. Have a few more whiskies and you’ll forget your nerves.”

I’ve played my violin a lot since returning from Edinburgh so I’m in tiptop playing shape, probably the best ever.

I’m desperate to feel anything other than the misery of living without Breck. Although I’m certain this isn’t a good substitute, it’s a start.

I hold up my JW and toss it back. There’s no way I’d agree to this if I weren’t buzzing a little. The whisky has clouded my judgment. “Okay. But you’re buying.”

“Understood.”

I have three more Johnnie Walkers for good measure as I do a run-through with Cody and his band in the back room.

 

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“Damn, Wilson. This girl is good. We might need to use her to replace Digby on a permanent basis,” the drummer says.

“Ohhh, no. I’m not a performer. I’m only doing this because I owe Cody one.”

He looks puzzled for a moment before bursting into laughter. “You talking about busting my nuts?”

I’m laughing hard, and it feels good. Nice to laugh in place of crying for a change.

“Playing one song with us won’t begin to make up for that. Mmm,” he groans as he shifts his hips. “I’m still feeling that one.”

“I never apologized. I’m really sorry.”

I feel I owe an explanation for my reason but what do I say? Sorry, Cody. I was being trained to become a killer so I was a little overly responsive to being pounced upon.

“It’s okay. You got your message through loud and clear.” It’s been twelve years and I still hate that I did that to him.

The lead guitarist comes into the back room, interrupting our conversation. “Showtime.”

I skulk onto the stage with the four band members, violin in hand. Each guy takes an instrument while Mark, the lead singer and guitarist, goes to the mic. He introduces every member and lastly comes to me. “Digby couldn’t be with us tonight so Miss Bleu MacAllister has graciously volunteered to step into his shoes on a number we couldn’t possibly do without a fiddler.”

He plays a few chords to liven up the crowd. “‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia.’” I drag my bow over the strings since it seems like a cue. “This is the way it sounds when you put a Tennessee girl on a fiddle.”

We jump straight into the song, which is good. It means this will be over quicker.

The crescendo of the song approaches and Mark motions for me to take center stage. Shit. I don’t want to be seen. It’s bad enough being heard. It becomes clear he isn’t going to give up so I concede and move forward until I’m front and center. Not my forte.

I shouldn’t have had those whiskies.

I’m thrilled when the song ends. Without a word, I quickly sneak away from the stage and back to my table.

Ellison gives me another drunk clobber hug. “Bleu! I haven’t heard you play like that in years.”

She turns to her friends. “My sister is a total badass, am I right?”

Five drunken voices agree and shout comments about my playing.

Cody is back at our table as soon as his band finishes. “You did a great job. Thanks for being a good sport.”

“You can thank Johnnie Walker. I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise.”

“Why not? You’re amazing. It’s a shame to keep that kind of talent to yourself.”

Has Cody forgotten me entirely? “Have we met?”

Cody laughs. “I see not much has changed with the MacAllister sisters in twelve years. You still prefer to hang in the background.”

“I’m content with not being seen or heard.”

Ellison and her friends squeal loudly over some sort of nonsense. “There was only room for one attention whore in our family. She was there before me so I never had a chance.”

Ellison leans in between us. “Heeeey, Bleu. We’re tired of this place. We want to go hear the dueling pianos at Silky O’Sullivan’s.”

Oh God. I shouldn’t have agreed to come. I am not up for pub crawling. But I’m stuck.

I look at Cody and shrug. “You heard the boss.”

“I guess they’re in the mood for piano music,” Cody says.

Ellison’s not really a fan of the country scene either. I’m guessing her friends are the ones who chose this bar. “I think they’re more in the mood to troll for guys. The ones here aren’t Ellison’s type.”

“I see.”

I hug Cody. “It was really great seeing you again.”

“You too. Thanks again for bailing us out. It was really nice of you.”

“Then I can consider us even?”

“Yeah.” Cody laughs and his dimples reappear. “We’re even.”

I follow Ellison and her band of nitwits down Beale Street to Silky’s. We luck out and find a recently abandoned table. They order two divers, the bar’s specialty drink—a secret blend of libations served in a gallon bucket with no fewer than a dozen foot-long straws.

Oh lordy. As if any of these airheads need to suck on anything containing a gallon of alcohol.

I realize an hour into our excursion that our DD has been partaking in the divers and is wasted. What the hell? That means we have no sober driver to get us home. “Ellison. Ashley is hammered.”

“Yeah?” She’s completely oblivious to what that means.

“She’s supposed to be our ride home.”

“It’s cool, Bleu. She’s a nurse. She isn’t going to drive drunk and risk losing her license. We’ll just get a couple of rooms.”

Get rooms, my ass. There’s no way I’m sleeping with any of their drunken asses and waking up with crusty puke in my hair.

“I did not sign on for a drunken slumber party.”

“Chill, Bleu.”

Fuck this. “You know what? I’m not feeling great. I think I’ll head home.”

“It’s that damn medicine you take. Your doctor shouldn’t have increased your dosage. She’s dumber than snake mittens.”

Oh goody. The drunken buffoonery begins. “Stay. Have a great time with your friends. I’ll see you in the morning. And please be safe.”

 

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I leave the bar and walk to the spot where taxis are lined and waiting for drunks in need of a lift.

“Hey, Bleu.” It’s Cody’s voice I hear in the distance.

He jogs up to me right before I get into the cab. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Bar hopping is not really my scene.”

“I know what you mean. I only came out because we were playing. I rarely come to Beale anymore. I sort of got my fill of all this in the Air Force.”

It’s impossible to enjoy this type of atmosphere after you’ve experienced whisky bars in Scotland. It puts this place to shame.

“Need a ride?”

“Yeah, but I’m going to take a taxi.”

“No way. Let me drive you.”

He must not know we no longer live in Memphis. “Thanks for the offer but I live in Southaven now.”

“That’s not too far.”

“It’s over twenty miles to my house.” I don’t want to put him out.

He shuts the door on the cab. “A taxi will cost a fortune. I’m taking you home.”

I can see this isn’t an argument where I’ll be the victor.

“Okay. As long as you don’t try to talk me into joining your band. ’Cause I’m never stepping foot on a stage again.” Shit. That was brutal.

“I make no promises.”

Chapter Two

Sinclair Breckenridge

I’m in the background of Bleu’s life, as I have been for weeks. I have eyes on her at all times, even when they’re not my own. I safeguard her from harm. It’s all I’ve done since tracking my lass down in a small town in Mississippi, right outside of Memphis. I act as her protector from afar and she has no idea. She believes she’s hidden from The Fellowship—and me—but she couldn’t be more wrong. I’m always here, keeping a watchful eye on her and the MacAllister family.

I often need to be reminded that this is Bleu’s world. Every person she has contact with isn’t a threat but there’s an enormous problem with that. I have no idea who’s friend or foe.

I was concerned when Bleu disappeared at the bar with a man earlier tonight. I was on the verge of barging into the back until my lass came out on stage to perform with the band. I don’t think I’ve ever been so surprised in all my life. I knew she played but I never pegged her for a public performer. That doesn’t seem like my Bonny at all.

But I guess I don’t really know the real Bleu MacAllister. I only know the woman she pretended to be.

Her father is dying. I’ve hidden in the shadows so she could have these last days with him but we’re running out of time. Abram’s men are hunting her. According to the tabs I’ve been keeping, they’re getting closer. That means it’s time for Bonny to know I’ve come for her.

Bleu and Ellison’s residence is transient. There’s not a single item they couldn’t bear to part with. These two are prepared to flee and leave everything behind at the drop of a hat.

I’m waiting in Bleu’s dark living room when she comes home. She’s with him—the man from the bar. I wasn’t expecting that. In the weeks I’ve watched her, she’s never brought a man home. I’m not at all pleased about this. My immediate reaction is to get up and beat the piss out of him. I fight the urge and remain on the sofa since I don’t know who he is to her. It wouldn’t go over well for me to assault a member of her family.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem. I didn’t mind at all.”

Aye, I bet he didn’t mind.

“Well.” She hesitates as though she doesn’t know what to say next. It’s that awkward silence thing. Good. “It was nice catching up with you.”

“It’s been too long. How about we don’t wait seven years to see each other again?” Ahh. He’s an old acquaintance.

“Sounds good.” No. That doesn’t sound good at all.

He reaches up and pushes a strand of stray hair behind her ear. If I know my lass, she’s fighting the urge to untuck it since she despises her hair like that. “I’ve always hated the way things ended between us.”

What does that mean? Is it possible Bleu had some type of romantic relationship with this man?

“Me too,” she agrees.

Please, don’t invite him inside, Bonny. I’m not sure how I’ll react to that.

He moves closer and I can see it coming from a mile away. He’s going to kiss her. And I don’t think I can sit here and watch it happen.

He touches the side of her face with his palm and I twitch to go to her, to get between them. “I’d really like to kiss you but I’m afraid you’ll kick me in the nuts again.”

If she doesn’t, it’s likely I will.

“Cody,” she sighs. “You’re a great guy but the timing is all wrong. I’ve just gotten out of a really intense … situation. I’m nowhere near ready for a new relationship.”

“I get it, Bleu. But you should be aware that I’m a very patient man. I can wait.” He leans in and kisses the side of her face. “Goodnight, Memphis Bleu.”

This man has a pet name for my Bonny. I’m not okay with that.

She shuts the front door and turns the deadbolt. Her high heels clang across the tile floor until she reaches the carpet of her bedroom. Everything goes quiet. Walls separate us but I imagine she’s kicking out of her heels. It was always the first thing she’d do when we’d come home from a night out. I doubt that’s changed. I’d bet money she’s sitting on the edge of her bed right now rubbing her feet. She hates wearing heels because they’re uncomfortable.

 

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“Hey, Dora.” That’s one of Harold MacAllister’s hospice nurses. “How’s Dad tonight?”

Bleu is calling to check in on her father—part of her nightly routine before going to bed.

“Good. I’m coming in the morning. You can tell the dayshift I’ll be there in time for breakfast. He eats better for me than Myra, but mostly because I force him.” She laughs. “Have a good night and call if anything happens.”

A moment later, I hear water running. She’s going to have a soak in the tub. It’s something she does almost every night.

I recognize the smell of her signature fragrance floating in the air—peaches and cherry blossom. I inhale deeply. Damn. I’ve missed that scent.

I sit on her bed and it feels like the longest wait of my life. I don’t know how she’ll react to discovering me inside her home. I’m certain she’ll initially be startled. Fear will likely follow. I expect a physical struggle. She’s an agent so she’s going to make a move for the gun she hides at the head of her bed. But she won’t find it there.

The door opens and she comes out of her bathroom wearing a short, satiny robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. She jolts from surprise and then goes completely motionless.

“Hello, my sweet Bonny.”

She takes a few steps back and darts around the bed when I stand. I’m certain she’s going for her gun. “There’s no need for that because it’s not there.”

She makes a move for the door and I catch her around the waist from behind. I hold her tightly to prevent escape. She throws her head backward and slams it into my nose. I immediately feel warmth ooze down my upper lip.

I walk backward to the bed and fall with her on top of me, her back pressed against my front. She’s struggling with every bit of strength she has. It’s like wrestling a wild animal. “Stop fighting me, Bonny. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Liar! I don’t believe you.” She tries to kick my knee where it joins my prosthesis.

When you physically struggle with someone, it isn’t long until one or both of your bodies give out to exhaustion. I’m fit but she’s more conditioned so I have no doubt she’ll outlast me. I must use words, not strength, to convince her.

I use the last bit of power I have left to flip us over on the bed. Bleu is on her stomach. She’s pressed into the mattress with me lying on top of her back. I move my hands to her wrists and bind them over her head. I wrap my legs around hers, locking them so she can’t move. “I would never harm you, Bleu. I swear.”

She stops struggling and I become aware of how hard we’re both panting. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I love you, Bonny.” In our scuffle, she has lost the towel from her hair. I release one of her wrists and use my free hand to push away the wet strands stuck to her cheek and neck. I press my face to the side of her head so my still-panting mouth hovers over her ear. “I claimed you, Bleu. I don’t take that lightly. You’re mine to protect so I’ll always do what I must to keep you safe.”

Her body relaxes beneath mine. I adjust my position so my weight is no longer pressing her into the mattress. She turns to look at me over her shoulder. “You’re here to protect me? From what?”

I don’t wish to have this conversation while restraining her. “Are you finished fighting me?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” I move off her. We’re exhausted from our physical battle so we lie side by side on the bed catching our breath.

She drops her damp hair towel on my face. “Your nose is bleeding.”

“Thanks.”

I wipe the blood away and hold pressure until the ooze stops.

“Abram’s men are coming for you. They’re getting closer. I expect them to track you here by early next week.”

“How do you know this?”

“I’ve been keeping tabs on their whereabouts because I’m responsible for your safety.” I still can’t believe what a poor job she’s done of concealing herself. “To tell you the truth, this whole hiding in plain sight thing isn’t the genius plan you thought. I expected a chameleon of your caliber to do a much better job of camouflaging herself.”

“Normally I would but my dad’s sick. I couldn’t go far.”

Staying puts her at risk. “I found you weeks ago.”

She bolts up. “You’ve been watching me for weeks?”

I rise so I’m sitting next to her. She’s angry. I see it in her eyes. “Aye. Three. But don’t be cross with me. It was the only way to ensure your safety without robbing you of this time with your father.”

Her face relaxes. “Then you know my dad is in hospice care?”

“Aye.”

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and shakes her head. “I can’t leave him.”

I understand her wanting to be with her father but she’s left herself wide open for attack. “Staying here is too risky.”

“I can protect myself.”

“We both know I could’ve killed you just now if that had been my intention. You’d be dead if I were one of Abram’s men.”

She looks away, staring blankly at the wall. It’s because she knows I’m right, although she won’t dare admit it. My lass hates defeat.

“I won’t leave like some coward.” Why did I have to fall in love with such a hard-ass?

 

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“Your father is dying. He won’t be much leverage for Abram to use against you but what about your sister? Can you protect her and yourself around the clock?”

I know I’ve caught her attention—she looks shocked. “Ellison is innocent. She’s done nothing to The Fellowship. She doesn’t even know of its existence.”

“Abram doesn’t care. He’ll use her to draw you out if that’s what it takes.”

Her eyes grow large. “Oh God. How do I undo this?”

I’ve spent the last three months battling the same question and see only one fix.

“I know what you have to do.” Her baby blues gaze at me in anticipation. But I’m afraid my solution won’t be anything she’s expecting to hear. “Marry me.”

She goes completely silent. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Marrying you would pull me into The Fellowship even deeper. Why would I do something like that?”

I never taught Bleu the ways of The Fellowship. I spent my time fucking her instead of teaching her our practices so now I must give her the quick version. “Every member takes a vow to never violate the family of another member. That means Abram can’t harm you if you become my wife.”

She’s shaking her head. “Common sense tells me betrayal overrides that vow. I lied to all of you about being a former agent. I came to Edinburgh to kill your father, the brotherhood’s leader. That alone is grounds for my execution. It won’t matter if I’m your conjoined twin. The brotherhood will never accept me for anything other than what I am—a traitor.”

“The brotherhood knows nothing of your betrayal. My father, Abram, and I all agreed it could spiral into panic and chaos if they thought they’d been compromised.” I know it must be killing Abram to keep this secret. He’d love nothing more than to make me look incompetent. “That’s the only reason Abram didn’t rat me out for initiating an FBI agent into The Fellowship.”

She hangs her head. “I’m sorry I put you in that situation.”

“Hey, you.” I place my fingers below her chin and force her to look at me. “I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit. I would do it again if given the choice.”

“Marriage might save me from being killed by Abram but your father knows about my betrayal. That can’t be fixed.”

But it already has been. “I told him you were Amanda Lawrence’s daughter but lied about it because you were investigating her murder. I explained that you thought he might be more forthcoming about information if he didn’t know he was a suspect.” It’s mostly true, minus the part where she planned his murder. “He has no idea you came to kill him. I swear.”

“You may have fixed things with your father but Abram is still coming after me.”

I take her hands in mine. “He won’t if you marry me.”

“Abram will never accept your marriage to me.”

“Good thing his approval is not a requirement.”

She can argue all she likes but I’ve thought this through for months and looked at it from every angle. Marriage is the only thing that makes sense.

“What do the brothers think happened to me?”

“I told them you were called away for a family emergency and you’re home caring for your terminally ill father. As far as they’re concerned, you’re still one of us and nothing has changed. You could return today and they’d welcome you back with open arms. Especially my mum. She misses you terribly.”

“I miss her as well.”

There’s still the matter of her wanting to kill my father. “I spoke with my dad about your mother’s murder. He stands firm that he isn’t her killer.”

She shakes her head. “No. I was there. I recognized Thane’s voice.”

“You were a frightened child who heard a Scotsman’s voice. You never saw his face. Even you must admit there’s room for error.”

I know my Bonny Bleu. She’ll never marry into the brotherhood if she believes its leader murdered her mother. I have to convince her my dad is innocent of this crime. “My father is The Fellowship’s leader. He answers to no one. That makes him untouchable. He’d take ownership of your mother’s murder if he were her killer. It’s our way. You know this about us.” She looks as though she’s considering my theory. “He was very much in love with your mother. He wouldn’t have harmed her.”

She looks as though she’s struggling internally. “Accepting his innocence means I’ve been mistaken for eighteen years. My whole life has been spent obsessing over killing the wrong man. You can’t possibly imagine the way that makes me feel—as a trained agent and as a person in general.”

“You were a young, traumatized child. It stands to reason you’d be easily confused.”

She looks as though she might burst into tears. “This means her killer is still out there. And I have no idea who or where he is.”

Bleu needs to know she won’t be alone in this. “We will find your mother’s murderer. When we do, I’ll help you kill him if you like. But first on our agenda must be making you safe.”

She nibbles her bottom lip for a moment before looking down at her hands in her lap. “Bonny. Look at me.” Her eyes meet mine. “Marry. Me.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to enter into a marriage for the wrong reason.”

 

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“Then enter into it for the right one.” She told me she loved me on the last night we were together but she thought we’d never see one another again. I have no idea if her feelings still stand. “You told me you loved me.”

“I do. I love you very much.” My body instantly relaxes when I hear her declaration. The heavy weight of not knowing has lifted. “But marriage is drastic.”

“Any man can see the good inside you. But what you need is one who sees the bad and loves you anyway. That’s me.”

“Becoming your wife means I marry The Fellowship as well. I’m not sure I can handle that.”

“Tell me what part of it worries you.”

“For one, you’ll take your father’s place as leader one day. When you do, you won’t be mine anymore.”

She’s wrong. “Bonny. I’ll always be yours. Nothing will change that.”

“You can say you’ll be mine but it isn’t true. Not really. I’ll always have to share you with The Fellowship. In a sense, they own you.”

The part she possesses is so much bigger. “I belong to you, Bleu. And you belong to me. That is never going to change.”

“All of this is a lot to take in without any kind of warning. I need time to sort out my thoughts.”

This is the worst marriage proposal in history. Marry me or die. No woman spends her life dreaming of those words. “My proposal is unexpected and unromantic. I can’t imagine a worse combination. I don’t even have a ring for you.” I cradle her face with my hand. “For that, I’m truly sorry but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I swear.”

She doesn’t reply.

“Say yes, Bleu. Take your place as my wife and mother of my children.”

“I can’t believe you just said something so cruel.” She jerks away. “You know I want to be a mother but there’s a very high probability that’ll never happen.”

I don’t believe that. I see our future when I look into her eyes and it has everything we dream of. “If you want babies, you will have them one way or another. I’ll see to it.”

“The Fellowship will expect you to produce a legitimate heir. What are they going to say when I can’t give you a son?”

“I don’t care what they say but we already know we don’t have the luxury of waiting. We’ll see the best fertility specialist right away. We’ll make our decision together based on what is best for us. Not The Fellowship.”

“I want to be crystal clear about one thing since we’re talking children. If I say yes and if by some miracle, I’m able to become pregnant and if it’s a boy, I won’t let you take him from me.”

“I know. I’d never expect you to go along with that.” I’m a little hurt she thinks I’d take our child from her. “I don’t think you fully grasp how much I love you, Bleu. I’m willing to change the rules for you.”

She reaches for my hand. “Believe me when I say it doesn’t go unnoticed.”

Although I’m willing to move heaven and earth for her, some things I can’t get around. “As much as I love you, I need you to understand something. Any son of ours will be raised in the way of The Fellowship. That part is nonnegotiable.”

“And that’s only one of a million different things I have to consider.”

I’ve dropped a bomb on her. “Take some time to think everything over—but don’t tarry for long. Abram’s men are closing in. It would be a much better scenario for Abram to call them off because we’re married rather than be discovered and have a showdown.”

Bleu has no choice, even if she’s yet to recognize that reality. That’s why it’s all the more important that I give her time to adjust and accept her fate without feeling as though I’m forcing her hand. My lass is stubborn and headstrong. I’ll fare much better as her husband if she believes she’s the one making this decision.

“I’m going to leave you to your thinking.”

Bleu puts her hand to my chest, stopping me from getting up. She swings her leg over my body, straddling me. Her hands slide up my arms and over my shoulders as her lips meet mine. “Don’t go, Breck. There’s been too much space between us as it is.”

I don’t want to go but I must. “This is the most important decision of your life. You don’t need me in your bed clouding your judgment.”

“You aren’t going to cloud my judgment.” She leans forward and kisses my mouth again while her hands tug at the buckle of my belt.

I place my hand on top of hers to still it. “I don’t want you to look back on this years from now and wonder if you said yes because I seduced it out of you or you got caught up in the moment. You have serious things to consider.”

She must never question her choice. I won’t have her one day hate or blame me because she feels I swayed her decision.

I hold her face with my palms. “I won’t be far.”

She holds me firmly. That’s when I know she doesn’t plan to let me go. “If you’re not next to me, then you’re too far.”

I roll so she’s lying beneath me, my body pressing her into the bed. She beams, believing she’s getting what she wants, until I peel her arms from my shoulders and her legs from my waist. “I’m giving you three days to decide.”

“I love you, my sweet Bonny Bleu.” I kiss her quickly. “I’ll be back in seventy-two hours for your answer.”

 

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Chapter Three

Bleu MacAllister

That fucking Scottish bastard! He waltzes into my life after we’re apart for three months and asks me to be his wife. Sort of. I’m not sure saying “marry me” constitutes asking. It sounds more like a demand. A man is supposed to go to his knee and declare his undying love with pretty words before asking his beloved to marry him.

That’s not at all what I got from Sin. No knee. No declaration of undying love. No pretty words followed by a question mark.

The jerk tells me to marry him and then swaggers out the door without making love to me. He claims he doesn’t want to alter my decision with sex but I’m not a fool. He wants me desperate for him. And I am. But I’m also furious. I would consider killing him if I didn’t already know how painful it is to live without him.

Sin presented his marriage proposal as though he was asking and the choice was mine. We both know that isn’t the case. He was being kind—and smart—since he can guess how well an ultimatum will go over with me.

I’m well aware of what my life looks like if I don’t marry Sin. That doesn’t mean I’ll accept without considering all the potential scenarios associated with becoming the wife of a Fellowship leader.

Divorce won’t be an option if things don’t go well. Neither Sin nor the brotherhood will ever release me. I’ll be married to Sinclair Breckenridge and The Fellowship until my dying breath. It’s literally a commitment until death do we part.

I’ll keep company with liars, thieves, and killers on a daily basis. In a sense, I’d become their leader as well since I firmly believe behind every great man is a great woman. Can I associate with these types of people every day?

If we’re able to conceive, do I really want to bring children into that kind of life? How would I possibly teach my kids right from wrong in The Fellowship world when they’ll be constantly surrounded by criminals?

If I decide I can’t become a permanent part of The Fellowship, I have the skills that will enable me to run so far, I’ll never be found. But even that scenario can’t happen before my dad passes. If I’m lucky enough to avoid Abram’s men until Harry’s gone, there’s still the matter of Ellison to consider. This isn’t my sister’s fight. She shouldn’t have to spend her life in hiding because of something I did.

I hear a crash in the living room and instantly transition into an agent on the defense. I streak to my nightstand and retrieve my gun from where Sin placed it before he left.

I move toward the door and do a visual check. I proceed down the hallway once I’m certain it’s clear. I’m doing a sweep of the living room when I hear a creaking noise in the wood floor behind me. I spin, arms locked, ready to fire on Abram’s men.

“Shit, Bleu! What the fuck are you doing?” Ellison yells.

“Dammit, Ellison.” I lower my gun. “You’re supposed to be drunk and passed out in a hotel with your friends.” I look at the man she has her arms wrapped around. “Not traipsing in with some random guy in the middle of the night.”

I’m suddenly aware that I’m wearing my robe in front of a complete stranger. I wrap it a little tighter and cross my arms over my chest since I’m braless. “You know you shouldn’t surprise me like that.”

“I’m sorry, Ty. This is my sister, Bleu. You’ll have to excuse her. She used to work for the FBI so she’s sort of a freakazoid with a permit to carry a gun.”

“Nice, Elli. I totally appreciate your summary of me.”

She points at her male companion. “This is Tyler Blackwell. We work together.”

He’s good-looking and well dressed—just Ellison’s type. I’d bet my bottom dollar this guy is a doctor. He looks the part. I hope this one is into her instead of another dude, or whatever that guy had planned.

We do the “nice to meet you” thing and I promptly return to my bedroom. I climb into bed and pull the covers high but I can’t possibly fall asleep after tonight’s revelation.

I toss and turn for more than two hours. On a whim, I call the number belonging to Sin months ago. “Aye, Bonny.”

Shit. I can’t believe he still has the same number or that he answered my call. “I can’t sleep.”

“I’m not surprised. I’m sure you have a lot of things on your mind.” I hear him chuckle and I’m reminded how he enjoys laughing at me. It pisses me off.

“True, but I have one very specific thing on my mind.”

“Bonny.” He says my name as though I’m a child who’s misbehaved. “You need to be concentrating on our future and the decision you must make in the next few days, not what you’d like to be doing in the present.”

It’s been months since we’ve been together. I don’t understand how he can be so strong. Is it because he knows I’ll be weak enough for the both of us?

“Where are you?”

“In the car.”

“Where exactly?”

“Outside your house.” I should’ve known. He said he wouldn’t be far.

I go to the window. I pull back the drape and see the dark sedan. “It’s an unusually cold night. You can’t sleep in a car outside my house.”

“I won’t be sleeping.”

This is stupid. He should be in here with me. “Please, come inside.”

“No.”

He’s absolutely infuriating. “Are you going to force me to take drastic measures?”

 

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“Good night, Bonny.”

Click.

He hung up on me … like really hung up on me. That bastard!

There’s no way I’m having this. Uh-uh. Not for a minute.

I step into my sheepskin boots. I go out the front door, stalking toward the dark sedan. The windows are tinted black as night. I can’t see his expression as I approach but I’m certain it’s smug. He’s getting exactly what he wants—me desperate to be beneath him as soon as possible.

He opens the back door and gets out. He points at my house. “Turn yourself around and get back inside. Now.”

I stand with my arms crossed to prove I can be just as stubborn as he is. “No.”

He slams the car door harder than necessary. “I told you I don’t think it’s wise to be together while you’re thinking about this decision.”

“I don’t think it’s wise for you to be sitting in a car fifty yards from me when I haven’t been with you in three months.”

“Bonny.” He yells my name and then squeezes his eyes. His lips are barely moving. I miss the first movement of his mouth but I don’t mistake the second, third, or so on. He’s counting. I’m sure it’s so he can gain his composure with me. “I don’t want you to ever feel like I persuaded or romanced you into making the wrong decision. Please understand I feel very strongly about this.”

I’m tired of this game.

“Being separated from you while I know you’re near is excruciating.”

“Do you think it doesn’t pain me to know you’re right inside that house?” He points to my robe. “Wearing this?”

“Being apart is doing neither of us any good. With you out here, there’s no kind of rational decision-making process going on in my head. I can’t string two thoughts together. Separation isn’t working.” Or maybe it’s panning out just as he hoped since I’m standing outside nearly naked in the cold, begging him to come to my bed.

I move toward him but he lifts his hand to stop me. “Don’t. You can’t see them but three of my men are in this car.”

Ohh. His men are watching. I might as well use that to my advantage. “I guess that means you might not want me to do this?” I reach for the tie around my waist and loosen it.

“I know what you’re doing but it’s not going to work.”

I undo the first loop of my belt “You caught me coming out of the bath so I’m not wearing a thing underneath. But you already know that.”

“Don’t do this, Bleu.” His voice is pleading. I’m not sure that’s something I’ve ever heard from him before.

“You give me no choice.”

My belt goes loose and Sin rushes forward to catch the lapels of my robe. He yanks it together and not so gently makes a bow with the tie. He hoists me over his shoulder and I wave at the men I can’t see behind his back as he carries me toward my house.

He highly underestimates me and what I’m capable of. I can’t believe he hasn’t figured this out yet.

I slide down his body as he puts my booted feet on the foyer floor. I hook my hands behind his neck.

He’s unsmiling. In fact, he looks downright pissed.

“Dammit, Bleu,” he growls. “You can’t defy me in front of my men. It makes me appear weak as a leader when I can’t even control my own lass.”

He needs to learn early on I don’t have a submissive bone in my body. “Have you considered that instead of seeing you as a weak leader, they’ll view me as a strong woman?”

“My guess would be that they think you’re a foolish woman. Trust me. They’re assuming I brought you inside for a harsh punishment rather than give you what you want.”

I go up on tiptoes and brush my lips across his. “Then you can’t possibly go back to the car and have your men think I didn’t receive a full atonement for my defiance toward their leader.”

“I suppose that would look bad.” He grabs my bottom and squeezes, pulling me close. “And you do need to be punished.”

“Yes. I’ve been a very bad girl. I think I deserve a penance fuck.”

He narrows his eyes. “What do you know about a penance fuck?”

I shrug and try to not wear a smug expression. “Nothing in particular, just sounded like a good suggestion.”

“Come.” He takes my hands from his shoulders, lacing his fingers through mine. He pulls me in the direction of my bedroom. “I have something in mind.”

I don’t mistake the sounds of sex when we pass Ellison’s bedroom. It’s a reminder to keep the noise to a minimum. I don’t want her to know Sin is here. I have no intention of them meeting any time soon.

Once we’re inside my bedroom, I shut the door and lock it.

He’s standing by my bed and I prowl in his direction. I stop once I’m in front of him. My palms on his cheeks, I stare into the chocolate-brown eyes I’ve missed so badly. “I didn’t get to tell you earlier how much I’ve missed you.”

He places his hands on top of mine and presses them harder against his skin. “Our separation was excruciating. So much so I wish to never be parted from you again.”

My heart melts. Sin can sometimes say very harsh things but I don’t think he has any idea how pretty his words can be when he’s softer.

I lace my fingers through the nape of Sin’s hair and pull him closer as I go up onto my tiptoes. Our lips meet and he moves his hands to my lower back, arching my body into his. He’s warm despite the fact that he’s been sitting outside in a car on a cold night.

 

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When I taste his mouth, I know how he and his men have been keeping warm in the car. I lick my tongue over his lips. “Someone’s had Johnnie Walker.” I run my hands up his chest. “And now I think it’s time you had some Bleu MacAllister.”

He scoops me from the floor, wrapping my legs around his waist. I grab his shoulders for support. He holds me that way while we kiss and then lowers me to the bed. He moves over me, stopping when we’re face to face. “Did you really think you could blow into my life like a breeze and roll out like a stone?”

He’s right. That’s exactly what I tried to do. Mission unsuccessful.

“Never run from me again,” he whispers against my ear.

I part my legs and rock against the bulge I feel pressed against me.

“I know you have cuffs. Where do you keep them?”

“My, my. Someone is feeling frisky tonight?” I’m elated as I reach beneath the bed. This is something we’ve not done before.

“You mean these handcuffs?” I spin them around my finger.

“Those are the ones.”

He takes them from me and puts one around my right wrist. He slips the other one through the railing of my headboard and cuffs my free one so my hands are bound over my head. “I didn’t know you were into bondage.”

“I’m not,” he says without a bit of enthusiasm.

“But you want to be?”

“I said I would never harm you, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t punish you.”

Punish. Does he mean that in the hot, sexy way I’m hoping for or in a Fellowship, disciplinarian way? I’m guessing the latter, judging by the scowl on his face.

I tug on the cuffs but it’s no use. I’m securely bound to my iron headboard. “What are you going to do to me, Breck?”

“I’m going to teach you a lesson while reminding you of the task at hand, my sweet Bonny Bleu. Your bondage will be a deterrent to keep you focused on the decision you must make while you learn how it feels to be tied to a bed naked.” He pulls the ties of my robe and the silky fabric falls open. “You handcuffed me to my bed and left me there while you walked out of my life. I’m not over that yet.”

Is he kidding me? That was nothing compared to what he did to me. “Do I need to remind you that you had a fucking gun jabbed into my jaw only moments before I walked out? If anyone has the right to not be over what happened that night, it’s me!”

“I’d just found out the woman I was in love with wasn’t who she said she was. It’s possible I made some bad decisions based on that. Don’t forget that despite your motives, you betrayed me. I’ve been fucking bitter about that. And then you left me handcuffed to the bed after I put down my gun and allowed you to take it.”

“Give me a break. You weren’t handcuffed for that long. I sent Jamie for you as soon as I was on the plane.”

“He didn’t get your message. Bad cellular service, I suppose.”

Oh God. I remember it was storming that night. “Then who freed you?”

“Agnes.”

I burst into laughter. “Oh. My. Gawd.”

“It wasn’t funny, Bleu.”

I can see he’s getting pissed off all over again but I can’t stop laughing. “No, you’re right. It’s freakin’ hilarious.”

“I was cuffed to the bed for twelve hours.”

Oh, shit. Twelve hours is a really long time. I was almost back in the US by the time he was freed. I feel horrid about that. “I’m sorry, Breck. That wasn’t the way I meant for that to go. But it must’ve been quite the show for Agnes.”

“I was quite naked by the time she came to clean the next morning. I’d struggled and squirmed trying to get free and lost the bed sheet.” The view probably thrilled that old lady. “Maybe I should leave you like this for your sister to discover so you can find out how humiliating it is.”

“Please, don’t. I wouldn’t have an explanation to give her.”

“You wouldn’t tell her your soon-to-be husband left you this way?”

He’s so sure I’m going to say yes. “I haven’t agreed to marry you.” Yet.

“Of course you haven’t. Instead of thinking about our future, you’ve been busy thinking of how to strong-arm me into your bed.”

“That’s not true. I’ve given it a lot of thought in the two hours since you asked.”

“Then tell me your thoughts so far.”

I yank on the handcuffs holding me hostage. “I don’t want to have a serious conversation while I’m bound to the bed.”

“Tough. You’re staying this way until I decide to release you.”

I want to scream—and I would if my sister wouldn’t come running into the room. “You are frustrating the fuck out of me right now.”

“Aye. I know.” The bastard is laughing at me again. He does that far too often.

“I was taught right from wrong and raised with morals. I’m not sure how I’ll deal with my newfound Fellowship family.”

He’s laughing. Again. “Bleu. We met because you were trying to kill my father. I’m sorry but that completely calls your principles into question.”

Okay. I can see where he might find that concern laughable. “I know. I’m the pot calling the kettle black.”

“You should never worry about being asked to go against any morals you may have. As my wife, you’d never be expected to dirty your hands.”

 

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“But that could be a problem as well. I don’t want to do nothing. I would need to be productive. I’d go mad as a stay-at-home wife.”

“All right. That part is negotiable. What other things have you given thought?”

This one could be a deal-breaker for him. “I’m not sure I want to bring children into a world where lying, stealing, and murder is acceptable. I want them to understand right from wrong.”

“You act as though we have no scruples, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. We have strict codes and beliefs in place. Family and honor mean everything to us. Our children would be taught the value of life. I don’t think you can say that about a lot of kids in the world.”

Let’s see what he has to say about this. “Men in leadership roles tend to have mistresses. I won’t put up with that.”

“You’re the only woman for me, Bonny. Ever.”

“What about my sister’s safety?”

“The blanket of protection over you would extend to her. She won’t be hurt.”

I don’t agree. Even if no one physically harms her, she’s going to be hurt if I leave her. “If I become one of you, she—nor my father—can know.”

“Bleu. You’re failing to understand something. Even if you don’t agree to be my wife, you’re already one of us. Your initiation is long-standing. It will never be undone.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” He’s right. I’m bound to The Fellowship. They aren’t going to let me go.

“Back to your concerns about your family. Your sister will never know anything about The Fellowship. It’s safer that way. But that also means she’ll never visit us in Edinburgh. We can’t risk her being caught in the middle of Fellowship business and learning who and what we are. We’ll always come to the US to see her. And that could be few and far between after I become leader. I won’t be able to leave often.”

I’ll gain Sin but lose Ellison. “I can’t leave my sister.”

“You will. Because you love her and want to keep her safe.”

This isn’t fair. “I want her shielded from danger but I don’t want to give up seeing her.”

“You’ll still see her—just not frequently. But you can talk to her as often as you want. Every day, if you like.”

“It won’t be the same. How would you feel if you couldn’t see Mitch?” That’s probably not the greatest example since Sin and Mitch don’t have a close relationship like Ellison and I do. “Scratch that. How would you feel if you couldn’t see Jamie and Leith?”

“I wouldn’t like it but I’d do it if that’s what ensured their safety.”

I’m suddenly wrecked by the realization of what has to happen. And it’s all my fault. I brought this upon myself.

My wrists remain imprisoned above my head so I turn my face into my upper arm. I don’t want Sin to see my ugly cry.

“Don’t, Bleu. You know I can’t stand to see you cry.”

I can’t stop myself. I’m destroyed.

As I heave to catch my breath, I feel the mattress dip. Sin releases the cuffs and pulls me onto his lap. His arms are wrapped tightly around me. “Ellison’s the only family I’ll have after my dad is gone.”

He strokes my hair as I cling to him. “That’s not true. You have a huge family waiting for you in Edinburgh.”

“Then I’m all my sister will have and I’ll be leaving her.”

He sighs. “I’ll make sure you see Ellison as often as possible.”

“If I decide to marry you, I can’t go to Edinburgh with you right now. I have to be here for my dad until the end.”

“I know.” Sin kisses the top of my head. “I’ll wait for you, Bonny. Always.”

Chapter Four

Sinclair Breckenridge

As promised, I’ve given Bleu three days to consider my proposal. I’ve continued to watch over her from afar just as I’ve done for the past three weeks. She’s gone about her life, spending her days with Harry at the hospice and her nights at home.

The waiting has been more brutal than I anticipated. Each night I wrestled with giving in and going to her. I somehow managed to hold it together and stay away. But now the time has come. Her seventy-two hours are up and I’m ready for an answer.

I call her cell to forewarn her of my imminent arrival. “Time’s up, Bonny. I’m coming in.”

“Right now?”

She sounds as though she’s taken aback but she shouldn’t be. I told her three days. It’s been exactly seventy-two hours since I proposed. “I told you when I’d return. This shouldn’t come as a surprise.”

“I thought I’d get some kind of forewarning.”

“You are. This is it.”

She huffs and I can’t help but find it amusing. It sounds so girly—not at all like my tough lass. “Sin. I’m not prepared.”

“Then get prepared.” She huffs again to let me know she’s not pleased. “I’m giving you ten minutes and then I’m coming in.”

“Twenty,” she counters. “I need a bath. It was a long day at the hospital.”

If I agree to twenty, she’ll take thirty. “Fifteen.”

“You’re killing me here, Breck.”

“Fine. I’m coming for you in twenty minutes.” I know I’ll regret conceding.

 

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“Ellison’s here and she’s still awake. You can’t come to the door.”

“What do you want me to do? Sneak in through your bedroom window?”

“No. I’m sneaking out of it.”

“What are you? Twelve?”

“Shut up.”

“Fine. I’ll be waiting at your window in twenty minutes.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Our options are limited. “I guess my place.”

“Okay. See you in thirty.”

“We agreed on twenty, Bonny.”

Silence. She ended our call without giving me a chance to argue.

I’m going to have my work cut out being married to this lass. She’s as good as me when it comes to getting her way. Maybe better.

* * *

I remove Bleu’s window screen and tap on the glass—thirty minutes later. She lifts the window and looks down at me, a mischievous grin on her face. She knows she’s been a bad girl. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You’re ready?”

“Yeah.” She leans out and swings one leg through. “I didn’t sneak out of my bedroom when it was deemed an age-appropriate thing to do.”

“Good. I’m the only lad you have any business sneaking off with.”

I catch her around the waist as she jumps to the ground. “Thanks.”

We get into the car, me in the driver’s seat. “You’re driving? This is new.”

“Aye. I sent Sterling away.” As my driver, he’s been present during many pivotal moments of my life but his presence isn’t required during my proposal and engagement.

At least I hope that’s what this is. My heart tells me she’s going to say yes but there’s no way to be certain with my Bonny Bleu. She can be unpredictable at times.

I pull into the drive of the house I’m renting. “This is where you’re living?”

“Aye.”

“My God! I can’t believe you’ve been living two streets over from me for almost a month and I didn’t figure it out.”

“You aren’t the only chameleon in this relationship.”

“I see that. It’s good information for the future.” She used the word future. That sounds favorable.

We go inside and I toss the keys onto the foyer table. “It’s not home but it serves the purpose.”

Bleu looks around. “I like it.”

I wish we were in Edinburgh. I can think of at least a dozen places I could’ve taken Bleu for an unforgettable proposal.

Bleu’s legs are bare with the exception of her tall boots. She’s bundled in a long wool jacket as though it’s freezing outside but I find the weather quite comfortable. “May I take your coat?”

She shakes her head. “I’m still a little cold.”

We go into the living room and sit side by side on the sofa. We both know why we’re here so I suppose there’s no sense stalling. “Have you made your decision?”

She nods. “I have.”

“Don’t tell me your answer yet. I need a do-over. I want the chance to properly propose, the way a man should ask the woman he loves to be his wife.”

She’s had three days to decide; I’ve had three days to come up with how to right the wrong of my prior proposal.

I remove the black leather box from my jacket pocket. I go to one knee on the floor in front of her—and then both. That’s what a woman like my Bonny deserves—a husband who will happily go to both knees for her.

She is holding all the power so I kiss the tops of her hands where they rest on her thighs. Whether she realizes it, this is my way of submitting to her. “I’ve never met anyone I wanted to put above myself until you. I want to give you everything, including my heart, if you’ll have it.”

I open the box and take out the ring. “I love you. Stella Bleu Lawrence MacAllister. I want you to be my wife. My partner in life. The mother of my children. Will you marry me?”

She nods and tears well in her eyes. “Yes. It would make me very happy to be your wife.”

I close my eyes and kiss the ring before sliding it onto her finger. “Into me … you see.”

“Into me … you see,” she repeats.

She holds out her hand, studying the platinum and diamonds symbolizing her agreement to become my other half. “My God, Sin. It’s beautiful.”

“Wear it always. I want the world to know you are mine to always love and protect.” I lace our fingers and kiss her hand. “I swear I’ll always do everything within my power to make you happy.”

She releases her hold so she can cradle my face. “You can begin by not denying me when I ask you to make love to me.”

She’s made the decision to be mine forever so I’m done holding back. “I am yours and you are mine. I’ll never deny you again. This I swear.”

It’s been too long since I’ve had Bleu. I don’t intend on simply tasting her skin or burying myself inside her body. I need to claim my Bonny and make her mine in every way. There’s an internal force driving me to possess her like I never have before.

I grab her hips and drag her forward. Her legs part, as does her winter coat, and I notice her thighs are bare. I lift the hem for a peek and find very little beneath. “Miss MacAllister. I believe you forgot to dress yourself.”

She grins and shrugs. “Perhaps. Or maybe I was rushed by my fiancé and didn’t have time to put on clothes.”

 

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Fiancé. I like the sound of that.

I untie the belt at her waist and push the top of her coat apart. My eyes roam over the lacy red bra and matching knickers. “You should probably expect to be rushed more often if this is the potential result.”

I place my palm in the center of her chest and slowly drag my hand downward. “I can’t believe all of this is mine for the rest of our lives.”

She sits up and wiggles free of her coat. She comes closer and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “I’m yours for the taking any time you’d like.”

“No worries. I’m very good at taking what’s mine.” I kiss her quickly before standing. I place her hands in mine and pull her from the sofa. “And I’m going to start right now.”

I lead her down the hallway to the bedroom I’ve rarely used. We’re barely inside when she glides her hands up my chest and pushes my jacket to the floor. She moves to my tie next, sliding the knot down. “Always so much to take off of you.”

“Anxious to get me naked, huh?”

“Maybe.”

“Let me help.” I’m eager to feel her naked body pressed against mine.

I reach for my top button but she stills my hand. She shakes her head and brings my fingers to her mouth, kissing them. “I want to do it. I’ve missed undressing you.”

She’s moving at a painstaking pace. “Bonny. I’d like to bed you tonight.”

She grins up as she unfastens the last shirt button. “In case you’ve forgotten, anticipation is one of the best forms of foreplay.”

She removes my first cufflink. “I haven’t forgotten how much you enjoy making me wait. It’s a lesson I won’t be forgetting any time soon.”

I hold up my wrist for the next one. She appears amused. “You make it sound as though I’m purposely torturing you.”

“You have no idea.” I need her five minutes ago.

She places my cufflinks on the nightstand. “It’s been months. I want to take my time with you and savor every moment.”

She pushes my shirt from my shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. Her warm mouth spreads kisses while her hands explore my chest. She stops and cups her palm over my heart. “Another thing I’ve missed.”

I place my hand over hers. “You’ve been right here inside my heart the whole time.”

“Who taught you to say such pretty words?”

She’s right. I’m not normally the kind of man to say such things. But losing my beloved Bleu changed my world. “You did—when you stole my heart.”

She rises to the tips of her toes so her mouth reaches mine. She laces the fingers of both hands through my hair and pulls me closer. Her tongue is soft and wet moving against mine in perfect rhythm. Her kiss is delicious—the sweetest aphrodisiac. There hasn’t been a single moment in the last three months I haven’t longed for this.

I guide her backward and she stops when her thighs touch the bed. “Lie back. I’m going to ruin you for all other men.”

She sits on the edge of the bed and then does as I tell her.

I begin my erotic journey by kissing her ankle. “May these feet never run from me again.”

My mouth moves up her calf. I lift her leg and kiss her behind her knee. “Know now that every time you run, I’ll seek.”

I drag my lips up her inner thighs. “I did it once but I’ll never be able to let you go again. Ever.”

“Then don’t.”

She’s writhing below me. She knows where I’m going next.

She says she wants to fully appreciate our reunion so I’m going to give her something worth savoring.

I slip my thumb inside the edge of her knickers and move it up and down, stroking the bend of her leg. She squirms, lifting her pelvis up and over in an attempt to move my finger toward her center where she wants it most. I resist the temptation of giving in to her. But it isn’t easy. I want to caress her there as badly as she wants me to. “All in good time.”

“You’re killing me and you know it.”

“Anticipation, Bonny. You say it’s the best form of foreplay.” I take my thumb from the bend of her leg and rub it down the center of her knickers. The fabric of her crotch is soaking. “I think it’s working.”

I lower my mouth to her abdomen and nibble at her groin. She jerks and groans, “You’re torturing me.”

“But what sweet agony it is.”

I push her legs apart and move my mouth down her knickers. I do nothing but breathe, letting her feel the warmth of my breath between her legs. This is my way of giving her a moment to guess what my next move will be. When I’m satisfied she’s had time to think of at least a dozen different deeds, I lick the center of her wet knickers.

“Oh God.” She jolts, either in surprise or ecstasy. Either is an acceptable reason to me.

I lightly stroke my thumb up and down the saturated fabric, gradually increasing the pressure. She wiggles closer and rocks her pelvis against my hand. “I think someone no longer wishes to play the waiting game.”

“We can play all the games you want later.” She sits up and reaches for the buckle of my belt. She yanks it apart and goes for the button of my trousers. “It’s been too long. I can’t wait another excruciating minute.”

I kick off my shoes while she frees me of my pants and boxer briefs. She reaches inside and grasps my cock in her hand, stroking it from tip to base. “I need to feel this inside me. Now.”

 

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“That can be arranged.” I hold the bed for balance as I step out of the clothes that have fallen down my legs.

She lifts her bottom and removes her knickers before reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. She finishes undressing before me since I’m still playing the balancing game with my artificial limb.

She’s lying completely naked on the bed before me. “You’re beautiful. And all mine for the taking.”

She moves to the edge of the mattress and slides off to stand. “Unless I take you first.”

She puts her arms around my shoulders and guides me to turn. She puts her hands on my chest. “Sit.”

I do as she says before she removes my prosthesis. When she completes the chore, she rises to climb on top of me, one knee on each side of my pelvis.

I move my hand between her legs and glide my fingers back and forth through her slick slit. She leans forward and wraps her arms around my shoulders while rocking her pelvis against my hand and panting into my ear. Her mouth makes its way down my neck, first nibbling, and then sucking a patch of skin on my shoulder. I have no doubt it’s going to leave a mark—a big, dark one. But I don’t care. I’m hers. She can brand me any way she chooses.

She releases my shoulder and sucks air in through her teeth. She arches her back and lifts her chin so she’s looking upward. “Ohh. Right there, Sin. Don’t stop.”

As if.

I pull her tight so my mouth is over her ear. “I’m never going to stop making you come. Ever.”

She tenses tightly, squeezing me hard, our foreheads now pressed together. “Ohh. Ohh.”

She relaxes a minute later and I notice her shaking. “You’re trembling.”

“Mmm … because that was magnificent. And so very needed. It’s been too long.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

“You’re still the only one.”

I’m relieved. I didn’t think Bleu had been with another man but it eases my mind to hear it confirmed.

She rises and finds my hard cock with her hand. She lowers herself onto it until I’m balls-deep inside her. “There will never be anyone else for me, Bonny. Only you.”

Her eyes never leave mine as she moves up and down. I have to say the words dying to escape. “Into me … you see.”

She cradles my face with her hands. “Into me … you see. Always.”

She’s too good at this so my orgasm builds faster than I’d like. I’m not ready for this first time to be over. But it’s been too long. I won’t last much longer at this pace so I move my hands to Bleu’s hips, encouraging her to slow down. “Easy, Bonny.”

“Are you having a hard time keeping it contained?”

I can’t talk about coming while I’m trying to hold off. “Something like that.”

“Then you should be in control.” While grasping my neck, she rolls to her back, taking me with her so I’m on top. I’m nestled between her thighs and push into her slowly and deeply as she wraps her legs around me tightly.

My hands glide up her arms until they find hers. We lace our fingers together between thrusts. “I love you, Bonny.”

“I love you too, Sin.”

Again, my climax builds sooner than I’d like but I’ve done all I can to prolong it.

I clasp Bleu’s hands and thrust deep, emptying myself and all my love inside her. She squeezes her legs tighter and I’m certain I’ve never been deeper within her body. “Uhh!”

When it’s over, I collapse—spent and exhausted—onto the bed beside her while still holding her left hand. I lift it so I can see how it looks with an engagement ring on it. “Do you really like it?”

“Like is a serious understatement for how I feel about this ring.”

“You never wear jewelry so I had no idea what you’d prefer. I had to go with my gut since I couldn’t ask your sister for help.”

“Your gut has excellent taste.”

She rolls to her stomach and props on her elbows. “We live on separate continents. Have you worked out the details for when, where, and how this marriage is going to take place?”

I’ve done my research. “We’ll marry here. I brought the appropriate documentation with me. Once we’re legally married, you’ll return to Scotland with me on a spouse visa. That will be valid for two and a half years.”

“What happens when it expires?”

“You’ll get an extension for another two and a half years. Once you’ve lived in Scotland for five years, you’ll apply for a permanent residency, called an indefinite leave to remain.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought of everything. When are we doing this?”

I don’t think it’s wise to wait a minute longer than necessary. “The sooner, the better since Abram’s men could find you any day. But I suppose you’ll need a little time for the things you have to do.”

She looks at me puzzled. “Such as?”

“I assume you want to buy a wedding dress and get a bouquet of your favorite flowers to carry. And I need a wedding band. But I get it if you’re too busy.”

“No. I want to pick it.” She holds up her hand and studies her engagement ring again. “You did such a wonderful job of choosing for me. I want to do the same for you.”

I bring her hand to my lips for a kiss. “Thank you.”

“You’ve told me the how and when—what about the where?”

 

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“I was thinking we’d have a civil ceremony at the courthouse since we won’t have friends or family present. We can have a big celebration with family once we’re home. I’m certain my mum will love planning that.” She practically turned Bleu’s initiation ceremony into a wedding celebration so there’s no limit to what she’ll do for the real thing.

Bleu looks sad. “What’s wrong?”

She reaches up and wipes several tears from her face. “I’m sad my family won’t be there. Or even aware that I’m a bride.”

“Your family is welcome to come. I’d like it very much if they were in attendance. I know how happy it would make you.”

She shakes her head. “No. And you know why.”

I do know but it doesn’t mean I’m going along with it. “It’s possible your father may never know but Ellison will have to be told at some point. Are you sure you want her to find out after the fact? I’m sure she’ll be bitter you didn’t tell her beforehand.”

“My sister is the mouth of the south. She’ll rat me out to Dad if she knows I’ve married you.”

I’d really like to change her mind about this decision. “Would it be so bad if your father knew you were marrying?”

“That I’m getting married? No. That I’m marrying you? Hell yes. He’d die of a coronary.”

I don’t know Harold MacAllister but I think Bleu may give him too little credit. “Why would he be so opposed? I’m going to take care of you. You’d never find another man who will provide you with the life I’ll give you.”

She looks at me as though I’ve grown two heads. “My dad’s FBI. You’re the future leader of a criminal organization. He dedicated his life to going undercover so he could arrest people like you.”

She forgets one thing. “You were an agent sworn to uphold the law and you seem to like me just fine. He might also. I’m not an unlikable person.”

She sighs. “He might like you as a person but he’d never accept the things you do.”

She shouldn’t be so closed-minded. “He’s a dying man. He might be happy—or maybe even relieved—to know there’s a man who is fully committed to loving and protecting his little girl.”

“In his eyes, your criminal background will negate any feelings of love you have for me. And in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t need a man to take care of me. I do a right nice job on my own.”

Bleu is strong but she needs my protection, even if she’s not yet willing to admit it. “I wish you’d at least think about telling him. I want to be the man you introduce to your family. Not the one you hide. I’d very much like to meet my father-in-law before the opportunity is gone forever.”

Her brow wrinkles. “Why?”

This is another thing Bleu doesn’t understand about The Fellowship. “Marrying you behind your father’s back without his permission feels like a betrayal against him. A brother wouldn’t dare marry a Fellowship daughter without her family’s approval.”

“Trust me. My father would feel betrayed if he found out about our marriage, but it wouldn’t be you he considered the traitor.”

And he won’t feel betrayed by Bleu, either—not when I finish explaining everything to him. I’ll tell Harold MacAllister my true intentions and how much I love his daughter.

Bleu will have her father’s approval before he dies. I will see to it.

Chapter Five

Bleu MacAllister

Oh my God. I’m getting married. In a courthouse. To a criminal. I’m literally going to stand in a building where defendants are prosecuted for their crimes and vow to love, honor, and cherish the future leader of a notorious criminal organization—the biggest one in Scotland.

Shit.

There’s no waiting period. All we need is the appropriate paperwork and we can become husband and wife as soon as we like.

Again, shit.

Am I seriously going to do this? Become Sinclair Breckenridge’s wife? The spouse of The Fellowship’s next leader?

I look at myself in the full-length mirror as I stand on the platform at the bridal shop and can only come up with one answer: Yes.

“Honey, you look beautiful. This shade of ivory is gorgeous against your skin tone,” my sales associate, Wendy, says.

I went into the bridal shop determined. I didn’t want a traditional wedding gown—wouldn’t even consider looking at a long white beaded gown with a train. To do so would be silly. I won’t be walking down an aisle or saying my vows in a church. My family won’t be present—or even privy to what’s going on. I’m neither proud nor happy about that.

I spin and look at myself in the mirror. The dress is knee length with an ivory lace overlay. It’s strapless—and A-line—with a wide champagne satin sash at the waist. It’s not bridal looking; I think it’s likely a cocktail dress.

There’s no way Ellison would approve. She’d have me in a sparkling white ball gown with a train as long as the room. I’d look like Princess Diana when she was finished with me. We’d never agree on a dress. But I wish she were here arguing with me.

“I really like this dress but do I look like a bride?” I’m having trouble seeing myself wearing this when I say “I do.”

“Of course you look like a bride,” Wendy squeals and holds up her index finger. “You just need to see the final product to be certain.”

 

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She spins me around so I can’t see my reflection and begins the process of pulling my hair up and blinging me out with sparkly jewelry.

She places an artificial bouquet in my hands and tells me to close my eyes before spinning around to see my reflection. “Take a look.”

I stare at the stranger in the mirror. I’m almost breathless, but not because of the image I see looking back at me. It’s because there’s no doubt remaining in my mind. I am a real bride—Sinclair Breckenridge’s.

She grins when she sees the awe on my face. “What do you think now, honey? Feel like a bride?”

I reach up to touch the side bun and floral hairpiece Wendy pinned in my hair. I’m sold. “I do.”

“You should. When is your wedding?”

“Friday.”

Her eyes grow large. “Honey! That’s only two days away. Why have you waited until the last minute to get your dress?”

“We just decided yesterday.” Or last night. Actually, it was twelve hours ago if we’re being technical. “We decided to elope.”

I’m sure she suspects pregnancy is behind the mad rush since it isn’t possible for her to guess the truth—that I’m in a hurry to marry the handsome Scotsman in the lobby so we can stop his psychopathic uncle from annihilating me.

It’s true. I’m doing this to save my hide but that isn’t the only reason I said yes. I love Sinclair Breckenridge with all my heart and soul. I would’ve agreed to marry him even if Abram’s men weren’t coming for me.

Wendy tugs at the dress hem, smoothing it. “This is a perfect fit for you. That’s a good thing since it couldn’t possibly be altered in time for your wedding.” She stands back and studies me. “I think you should carry a bouquet of off-white, soft peach, and pale lavender. It may sound unusual but it would be lovely with this shade of ivory.”

I guess she would know. I certainly don’t. I was never that girl who sat around studying bridal magazines while dreaming of a magical wedding to a white knight. It’s a good thing since I’m marrying a charming villain instead of Prince Charming.

I make my final purchases and find Sin sitting on a sofa in the shop’s front parlor. He doesn’t see me so I stop to watch him as he looks through a bridal magazine. I guess there’s not much choice of reading material in a place like this but it’s still not something one would expect out of a Fellowship leader.

He catches me and tosses the magazine onto the coffee table. “Find everything you were looking for?”

I hold up the wardrobe bag. “I’m all set.”

“Am I allowed to see your dress?”

We’re not having a traditional wedding with friends or family but I’d like to stick to some form of tradition. “You’ll see it on Friday.”

“Fair enough.” My favorite dimple makes its appearance. “So we have two more stops to make today?”

“Actually, three.”

“Your flowers. My ring.” He lifts his brows and tilts his head. He does that when asking me a question without saying a word. I love our nonverbal communication, particularly the kind we use behind closed doors.

I clear my voice. “Undergarments and wedding night attire, Breck.”

“I see.” His dimple deepens. “We will definitely make time for that stop.”

“I knew you’d be in agreement.” I’m actually a little surprised lingerie shopping wasn’t his idea.

“I want to pick what you wear on our wedding night.”

Of course he does. That’s Sin’s thing. He loves to choose my intimates. He can be somewhat of a tyrant about it. I’ve never minded but this time is different. It’s our wedding night. I should be the one to decide what I wear. I want to be a gift for my husband, wrapped in lingerie for him to unwrap. “No. I want it to be a surprise.”

The lawyer in him wants to argue. I see it in his eyes. But I give him a look that dares him to strong-arm me on this one. “I said no.”

“Can I at least make a request since it’s my wedding night too?”

“I know what you like to see me wear, Breck. I’ll make it special. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

Like any man, Sin likes to see me in sexy things but he doesn’t care for crude or explicit. There’s a line with him—he favors sensual over provocative. He says I’m his treasure and overtly sexual things devalue me because I’m better than that.

I’ve studied profiling so I’m not ignorant to what’s really going on inside his head. Sin’s been with countless women and has seen it all. He’s been desensitized by all the sex he’s had thrown at him over the years.

But I’m the exception. I made him wait. And I made him work for the pleasure of having me, something no other man had ever touched. For Sin, there was no bigger turn-on.

My husband-to-be pulls me into his arms. “You could never disappoint me.”

He kisses me far too passionately considering we’re in public. But I let him, without a single complaint. “I love you, Bonny.”

“And I love you.” I’m sure everyone in the bridal shop is staring but I don’t care. “Is this that thing people call happiness?”

“It is, Bonny. I’m certain of it. And I can’t wait to know the rest of our story because you’re my happily ever after.”

“Bleu?” I hear a familiar voice so I twist in Sin’s arms.

 

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Oh shit. It’s Cody.

“Hey.” I straighten and step away from Sin as I clear my throat of my heart since it has just taken a leap upward.

“This makes three times in one week,” he says.

Shit. I didn’t tell Sin about Cody showing up at the hospice center.

I’m between a rock and a hard place. The rock being how to not introduce Sin and the hard place being how to avoid explaining why we’re at a bridal shop kissing like lovebirds.

Divert. Deflect. Distract. Make him do the talking so I don’t have to.

“What brings you in?”

“My buddy is getting married. I’m picking up my tux.”

Gotta keep him talking. “Anyone I know?”

“I don’t think so. He’s originally from the Vegas area. Moved here with his job.”

I can’t let him ask me what I’m doing here. “Is he a pilot?”

“Yeah. With Delta.”

“Nice.”

I’m racking my brain for what I’ll say next when Sin completely blows it for me, offering his hand to Cody. “Sinclair Breckenridge. I’m Bleu’s husband.” A devilish grin spreads. “Or at least I will be this Friday.”

Well, fuck me running.

Cody looks from Sin to me. “You didn’t mention a fiancé when we were together the other night.”

I’m under the impression Cody could be trying to provoke Sin. If so, he shouldn’t. Sin doesn’t play fair. My old friend is in a whole other league he can’t begin to understand.

Sin has created a situation I can’t explain away. That’s a problem for me. Cody will tell his mother and then she’ll tell … everyone.

Sin can be such a bastard. He’s fixed this so I have to admit I’m marrying him.

“We had a terrible lovers’ spat the night I ran into you at the bar and I called off the wedding. That’s what I meant when I said I had just gotten out of an intense situation.” I look at Sin, giving him my best stink eye. “But we’ve ironed everything out now and the wedding’s back on.” I lean into Sin and pinch the skin on the back of his arm. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

“Aye! Aye!” he yelps. “It certainly is.” He yanks his arm free, wrapping it around my shoulder so I can no longer pinch him. “I can’t wait to make this sweet lass my wife.”

Cody puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Your family must be very pleased.”

I’m not going there and I won’t let Sin, either.

“We’re actually in a hurry to make an appointment with our florist so we need to run,” I lie.

“Oh, sure. Wouldn’t want you to be late.” He shakes Sin’s hand again. “Congratulations. You’re getting a fine wife.”

“Thank you.” He takes my hand possessively. “Ready, love?”

I nod. “It was good seeing you again, Cody.”

I don’t say a word as we walk to the car. Once we’re inside, I’m tempted to beat the hell out of Sin. “I can not believe you just did that.”

“He tried to kiss you.”

“Unsuccessfully.”

“He’s been to the hospice center since your little reunion. I think we both know it wasn’t your father he came to see. He wants what’s mine. I had no choice but to let him know you weren’t his for the taking.”

“It doesn’t matter if he wants me.”

“I did what a husband does for his wife. I let him know you are mine. I don’t understand why you’re upset.”

“One: what you just did was unnecessary. We’ll likely never see Cody again so it doesn’t matter if he wants me or not. Two: this makes a huge problem for me. He’s going to tell his mom and then she’ll tell everyone. Word is bound to get back to my Dad and Ellison.”

“You’re going to be my wife in two days and I’m fucking thrilled about it. Forgive me if I want someone besides us to know.”

“I don’t care if the world knows—as long as Dad and Ellison don’t find out.”

“I’m sorry. I’m possessive of you and I allowed it to get the better of me. I wasn’t thinking of what you’d want.” He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it. “I’m sorry. Can you forgive me, Bonny?”

It’s hard to not forgive a man whose pet name for you means beautiful. “Maybe this time.”

I understand Sin’s drive to have Cody know I belong to him. It’s testosterone. Or nature. Call it what you like but it’s the only reason I’m able to overlook him going against my wishes.

“I’ve never allowed another man to touch me. Only you. Don’t forget it.”

Chapter Six

Sinclair Breckenridge

I’m marrying my Bonny Bleu tomorrow—without her family’s knowledge or her father’s approval. I’m not all right with that. It feels dirty—like committing a betrayal against a weak, dying man. There’s very little I find more lowdown than dishonoring a man under these conditions.

I won’t enter our marriage this way.

Harold MacAllister won’t be around to watch over and protect Bleu. I believe he’ll find comfort in knowing I’m pledging my life to her safety and happiness. Wouldn’t every father want a man to take that vow for his daughter?

The hall smells of that all-too-familiar odor common to medical facilities. The chemical smell of medications. Shit. Piss. Vomit. Bleach to mask the odor of the three. I remember it well. But there’s another smell here, different from what I grew accustomed to during my own recovery period.

 

The Next Sin
The Next Sin Page 19



It’s the stench of death.

I swore I’d never enter a hospital again after my amputation. I had to when I nearly died of sepsis several months ago. Now, here I am inside a hospice care center because I want to speak to the man who, in twenty-four hours, will be my father-in-law.

I stand outside Harold MacAllister’s door and catch my breath as I prepare to knock. I’m apprehensive. Nerves aren’t something I experience often and I’m a little surprised by my anxiety.

I’m confident about everything I plan to tell Bleu’s father. I practiced it in my head all night. I’m just not sure how well it will be received.

I knock and a woman’s voice tells me to enter. I open the door and find Ellison standing on one side of Harold MacAllister’s bed, a nurse on the other. “Good morning. We’re helping Mr. Mac get a little more comfortable.” They’re using a sheet to move him up toward the head of his bed. “I don’t know how you worm your way down so quickly. Seems like we just pulled you up an hour ago.”

They finish and lift the head of the bed so Harold is almost in a sitting position. “Here’s your call light. Buzz me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Marge,” Ellison says.

Bleu’s sister waits until the nurse is gone to address me. “You’re him.”

She recognizes me? How? I was under the impression Ellison knew nothing of me.

“You need to go, Elli,” Harold tells his daughter. Apparently, he recognizes me as well.

“Hello, Mr. MacAllister.” I nod in Ellison’s direction. “Miss MacAllister.”

“Don’t be rude, Dad. This is Bleu’s friend she met while she was in Scotland on assignment.” Oh. She knows more than I expected.

“Leave now, Ellison.”

Bleu’s sister is clearly shocked by her father’s reaction. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

I wait until Ellison is gone to introduce myself. “I’m Sinclair Breckenridge. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“You’ve come for her.” He puts his hand to his chest and is gasping for air.

I’m scaring the shit out of the poor man. “I have but not for the reason you think.” I pass him the cup of water from his bedside table. “Have a drink.”

He does as I suggest but he’s working hard to catch his breath. “Slow your breathing. You’re working yourself into being short of air.” Bleu will be very displeased with me if I send her father into some sort of attack.

“Why have you come?”

I gesture toward the bedside chair. “May I?”

He nods and appears to be calming a little. Maybe.

Everything I rehearsed in my head is a blur. “Please, bear with me. I had all of this planned out—everything I wanted to say to you—but I’m suddenly at a loss.” This doesn’t happen to me. I never lose control. I’m a total mess.

“Mr. MacAllister. I’m not sure what Bleu has told you. I’m probably rewinding a little too far but I’m doing so because I don’t want there to be any confusion.”

“Go ahead,” he says.

“You’re aware Bonny infiltrated The Fellowship through me with the goal of killing my father?” Dammit. That sounded horrid, as though I’ve come to avenge him. “I’m sorry. That came out all wrong.” I’m doing a terrible job.

“Please don’t hurt my daughter,” Harold pleas.

“I’m not here to harm Bonny.”

“Bonny?”

I laugh. “That’s my special name for Bleu.”

I get up to pace the room as I talk. Walking always seems to calm me. “Anyway, she wasn’t successful. But I’m sure you know this already.”

“She decided she couldn’t go through with it.” Okay. We may be getting closer to being on the same page.

“Aye. But do you know why she couldn’t go through with it?”

“Her conscience got the better of her.” That’s a half-truth.

“That much is true but what she hasn’t told you is why she developed a conscience about killing my father.”

His brow wrinkles, his eyes squinted, as though he’s trying to put the pieces together. “What are you saying?”

“She couldn’t go through with it because we fell in love.”

He’s shaking his head in denial. “No.”

“Trust me. I didn’t want to love her, but I do—with all my heart. It’s not what she wanted or planned, either, but still, she loves me all the same.”

“I don’t believe you.” Harold raises his voice as much as he’s able. “This is one of your crafty tricks.”

“My uncle discovered Bleu’s deception. I was supposed to kill her but I couldn’t do it because I love her. I let her escape with a promise—I’d find a way to erase her grievance with The Fellowship.”

“Let’s assume I believe you’re in love with one another. How do you suppose you’re going to fix a problem of this magnitude? The Fellowship doesn’t forgive and forget.”

“Abram’s men are in the US right now. They’re on a mission to hunt and execute Bleu. She could probably run and avoid them but she refuses to leave you. Even if she did, it puts Ellison at risk. My uncle wouldn’t hesitate in using your other daughter as a way to draw Bleu out.”