I only get a glimpse of my mother’s killer before he and Sinclair leave the bar. I have no recollection of seeing his face when he attacked me. I must have squeezed my eyes shut out of fear but I’ve seen countless surveillance photos of him. His face will be forever etched in my brain, yet I find he differs from the way I’ve visualized him. He appears … human, not at all the monster I’ve come to imagine.
It’s closing time and neither Thane nor Sin have returned. I’d hoped the pair would come back so he might introduce me to his father. I’m anxious to embark this ship of deception that will bring me into the Breckenridges’ inner circle.
I’m walking home when Sinclair’s black sedan eases alongside again. “Get in.”
He doesn’t get to give me orders like I’m one of his Fellowship members. “No.”
“I said get in.”
“And I said no.” It’s my job to teach him how to treat me early on.
“Please, Bleu. I’d really like to take you home.” He’s almost making this too easy.
I look at him for a moment, as if I’m considering his proposition, but I already know I’ll get in. “Okay, but only because you asked nicely.”
I wait for him to lead the conversation but he says nothing—so I don’t, either—during the two-minute drive to my flat. We’re angry at one another. Well, he’s mad and I’m pretending to be.
I’m the first to speak when Sterling parks in the usual spot. “Thanks for the lift.” Sinclair doesn’t reply as he opens his door to get out. “What do you think you’re doing?”
I sit in the car with folded arms like a juvenile. He opens my door and puts his hand inside to help me exit. “I’m coming in with you.”
I take his hand and allow him to help me out. “What makes you think that?”
“We were interrupted earlier, and I’d like to finish where we left off.” Yeah, I’m sure he would.
I stop him at the door, placing my hand on his chest to let him know it’s a no-go. “We want two different things, and I won’t settle for less than everything I deserve.”
“What if I told you I thought about it and changed my mind? What if I want to try it your way?” He’s coming around but not quite there. He needs more time to simmer so he can see things my way. Completely.
“Mmm … no.” I say it like a spoiled brat.
“What do you mean, no?” He sounds like a brat too. I think he’s truly shocked he isn’t getting his way.
“You don’t get to … try me out. That’s not how this works.”
“Then how would you like this to go?”
“You told me earlier that you only do what pleases you, so you’ll need to convince me that you want to make it good for me.”
“You want this to be all about your pleasure.” He laughs.
“Mmm … not completely. Just mostly.”
“My God, woman. You’ve enchanted me. Now I’m desperate to find out what being with you is like.”
Fucking perfect. “You’ll have to work for it. And after you do, I might not agree if I feel you didn’t work hard enough to suit me.” Wow. I sound like a total bitch. I may have taken it too far.
“All right. I agree to your terms.” I cannot believe he just agreed to those stipulations.
What have I gotten myself into? I knew there was a possibility I might have to get into bed with the enemy, but I had no idea I’d be this electrified about doing so.
It makes me feel dirty. But I like it. And I shouldn’t.
* * *
Two days have passed since Sin’s been into the bar. Nor has he come by to give me a ride home. I’m afraid playing hard to get isn’t the way to go since it seems to be backfiring.
He’s accustomed to a quick fuck with a willing Fellowship groupie. He never takes anyone to his home or a hotel. I had hoped something fresh and different would catch and hold his attention. I thought a girl from the outside, untainted by the members of The Fellowship, would be the key. I guess I was wrong. Maybe I need to consider another approach.
It’s closing time and I go to the back to get my things. Upon opening my locker, I find a single red rose accompanying a folded note on top of my bag. I sniff the rose and read the message.
I’m taking you out tomorrow night. Seems I have something I must work for. Be ready at 7:00.
S
Oh, wow. He’s been at the bar and I didn’t even know. Maybe my plan isn’t dead in the water after all.
One problem. I’m supposed to work tomorrow night. Has he taken care of this with Leith?
I stop by the office on my way out. The door is open, Leith sitting at his desk working on the computer. “Hey, boss. You got a minute?”
“Sure.”
I feel sort of weird asking about a change in my schedule when we haven’t discussed it. “Am I still working tomorrow night?”
“No. Sin moved Greer to work in your place.”
“Hmm.” I’m not at all surprised by this, but I make an expression as though I am. “Then I guess you know he’s taking me out.”
“I suspected as much since he’s making changes to your shift.”
“I don’t want it to be a problem.”
“It’s not.” He returns to punching numbers into the computer. “I’m used to Sin getting whatever he wants and saying to hell with everyone else.”
Yup. He’s bitter. Probably best I don’t say anything else. “Umm … I guess I’ll see you Sunday, then.”
“Bleu, Sin is one of my best mates but he can be a son of a bitch. You’re a nice lass and I’d hate to see him hurt you.”
That’s not a possibility but I can’t tell him that. “Thanks, Leith. I’ll be careful.”
I’m not surprised when the black Mercedes creeps alongside me. “Good evening, Miss MacAllister. It would be an honor to take you home, but the real question is would it please you for me to do so?”
This is going to be a fun game. “Your company would please me very much.”
We arrive at my place in a matter of minutes. “May I come in?”
I ponder what an invitation to come inside will mean to him after our last conversation. “Bleu, if I’m to earn the privilege of taking you to bed, I must be given the opportunity to perform your prerequisites for proving myself.”
He’s got me there. I can’t back out or I’ll lose my footing. “Yes. I’d love for you to come in.”
Once inside, I kick off my shoes by the door. “God, that feels so much better.” I pull the tie out of my hair and shake it until it flows freely, my scalp sore from wearing my hair up all day. “I’m gonna change into something more comfortable. Help yourself to a drink. You know where the whisky is.”
I opt for tight black yoga pants and a fitted white T-shirt. It’s one of those outfits that isn’t intentionally sexy, yet it is.
I return to the living room and find that Sin has poured JW for two. Tall and neat, waiting for me on the end table.
I sit in the spot he’s chosen for me since I figure there’s motive, but he completely surprises me when he moves to the floor at my feet. “Hard day, Bonny Bleu?”
It seems I have a nickname. It’s sweet. Score: one, Sinclair.
“It was rough but it’s much improved since you did whatever you did to make the grabby hands leave me alone.”
“No one’s bothering you?” He reaches for my right foot and rubs.
Shit, that feels good. I think I may orgasm.
I shake my head. “Not anymore.”
“I could do a better job if I had lotion or oil. Do you have any?”
“Umm … yeah. I think it’s on the bathroom counter.”
He disappears down the hall, then reappears with my favorite body lotion and sits at my feet again. He squeezes a generous amount into his hand and begins his sweet seduction of gliding his palms over my feet. “You were telling me about your day.”
I can barely concentrate enough to put a coherent sentence together. “It was okay.”
“Just okay?” He sounds a lit
tle disappointed.
“It got better once I found a beautiful red rose and invitation for a date tomorrow night. Thank you, by the way. It was a lovely surprise.”
“Is that an affirmative?”
Really? He’s asking after he rearranged my work schedule? “I don’t recall there being a question anywhere on the note. Only instructions to be ready at seven.”
“Please, bear with me, Bleu.” He stops massaging, so I open my eyes. “This is new to me.”
He looks so sweet sitting on the floor … serving me. “I can see that and I also know you’re trying. Please know it doesn’t go unnoticed. I appreciate your effort.”
“Let me try this again because I want to get it right.” He clears his throat. “Will you please join me for dinner tomorrow night and perhaps dancing afterward?”
How in the world can I say no to that? “Yes. I’d be happy to.”
He applies more lotion to his hands and works his way up my calves.
“You haven’t been to the bar in a couple of days.”
“I’ve been working on a really important case.”
“Oh.” I’m glad to know his reason for not coming wasn’t his choice.
“Did you think I wasn’t showing up because I wasn’t interested in seeing you?”
“Maybe.”
“Were you disappointed?”
I think I should throw him a bone. “Maybe.”
“Damn, you don’t give much away.”
He’s right. I have to make myself more vulnerable. “Most men don’t appreciate hearing the word no when it comes to sex, so I thought you were skipping out on me.” I shrug. “I must confess it was a huge letdown to not see you for two days. I wondered if my demands might have been too much for you to handle or maybe I was a turnoff.”
“It’s the opposite for me. I’ve never been more turned on.”
“I’m calling bullshit.” As much as I hate to admit it, that damn Geneen was stunning—until I broke her nose. “I’ve seen the women at the bar. Some are gorgeous and have bodies to die for. There’s no way I’m the biggest turn-on you’ve ever had.”
“Bleu. Those women are beautiful until you know them and understand their motives for being at Duncan’s. Every last one of them wants to be claimed, and they’re willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
Claimed. I remember reading about this in one of the files. The Fellowship has this bizarre practice of laying claim on women they aren’t married to. “I don’t understand what you mean by claimed.”
“You don’t understand because you aren’t like them. And I like that very much.”
“I want you to tell me what it means. Is it a Scottish thing?”
“Another time, Bonny Bleu.”
Chapter Six
Sinclair Breckenridge
Bleu and I will be dining in the finest restaurant in Edinburgh. It’s a place I visit often, but never with a companion. I know the owner and manager well so I’ve called ahead and confirmed our seating at the table I desire–the one for two hidden in the back corner where lighting is low and foot traffic minimal. I’ve chosen this with an ulterior in mind. I want to talk to her with as few interruptions as possible. I want to find out who Bleu MacAllister is. I know the basics but those things aren’t enough to satisfy my curiosity. I want to learn what makes her tick. What—or who—has made her so sexually demanding? Most importantly, I want to confirm that what I’m working toward will be worth my effort.
I wait until our dinner is ordered and drinks are served before I begin digging. “What made you want to be a photographer?”
“It’s sort of strange so you can’t laugh.”
“I won’t.”
She grins. “I love to capture feelings.”
It sounds like an art-minded response.
“People don’t realize the things they say without uttering a word. Something as simple as the lift in the corner of one’s mouth can reveal thoughts and emotions better than any voice. Body language—it’s nature’s crafty trick, second only to falling in love.”
“Aye. It’s a shan.”
“A shan?”
“Americans would probably use the word shame.”
“Oh. You sound like you know from experience.”
I have no experience. I’m far too intelligent for such nonsense. “When one falls in love, that person makes the decision to become vulnerable. It’s not a path I’d ever willingly choose so, no. What about you? Has Bonny Bleu ever been in love?”
“I’ve tried dating but it never matters what I do. I’m always what’s wrong.” She’s nervously twisting the ring on her thumb. “I’m able to capture other’s emotions in photos yet I can’t get a grip on my own. I avoid connecting with people. I make myself an island so it gives me an excuse to remain alone.” She sighs and looks embarrassed. “Wow. That sounded like a psychological profile … or something.”
She’s sharing intimate details. I didn’t expect that. “What about brothers and sisters?”
“One sister. Ellison. She’s an ER nurse. What about you? Any siblings?”
“One younger brother, Mitch. He’s still in college. And then there’s the two numpties, Leith and Jamie. We’re as close as brothers.”
“The whole thing at the bar is sort of confusing. Everyone knows one another. It feels more like a private club than a public bar.” That’s a pretty accurate description. “It sometimes feels like there’s a secret everyone’s privy to except me.”
This girl has it all—brains and beauty. I hope she isn’t too smart for her own good. “How long do you think you’ll stay?”
“Not sure. I’m trying to get everything finished up as soon as possible. The business at home waits.”
Basing my judgment on the flat where Bleu is staying, her aunt wasn’t a wealthy woman, so she can probably be done within the next couple of weeks. “I believe that should be doable.”
“Tell me about your parents.”
This is where my story can go sideways quickly. “My mum and father are still married. I guess you could call Dad an entrepreneur. He owns a few businesses. Mum doesn’t work. What about yours?”
“My mom passed away two years ago. My dad won’t even consider dating. He says he loved her too much to be with another woman.”
I can’t imagine having parents who tolerate each other, let alone love one another. It’s completely foreign to me. And I’m destined to be just like them.
With a fair amount of certainty, I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to love.
* * *
I send Sterling into the club for a look around before we enter. I need to make sure it’s clear. The last thing I need is an altercation with a rival in front of Bleu. “All clear, boss.”
“Perfect. Thank you, Sterling. That will be all.”
“What was that about?” she asks.
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
It’s Saturday night, so the dance floor is bouncing. We opt for seats at the bar. “What do you want? Sex on the beach?”
“No.” She laughs. “I did that because I thought it would be funny to see you with a girlie drink. Your reaction was priceless.”
“Would you take a Johnnie Walker Black Label instead?”
“You thoroughly enjoy JW, don’t you?”
“Aye. It’s good stuff.”
“Suits me fine.”
We get our drinks and go down the stairs into the cave where the best dance floor is. “This is an unusual place.”
“Not bad, right?”
“It’s great. We don’t have anything like this at home.”
We move toward the dance floor. “Do you like to dance?”
“When I have a good partner.”
There’s a new Sia song playing. “Want to kill these so we can get out there?”
“Sure. On three.”
We click our glasses and count, “One. Two. Three.”
We down the dark liquid. “This stuff is never disappoint
ing. If anything in this world suffers from the tragedy of perfection, it’s some motherfucking Johnnie Walker,” I say.
“Agreed.”
Glasses abandoned, we move to the floor. The song isn’t really a slow one, but Bleu moves close and puts one arm over my shoulder while clasping my hand. “I really love this song.”
I listen to the lyrics for a moment. “Fire, meet gasoline?”
Bleu sings a few verses and shrugs. “Sorry. I know I can’t sing worth a damn but it doesn’t stop me.”
Several couples hit the dance floor all at once, forcing her to move closer. “It’s getting crowded.”
This is nothing for this place. “It’s a popular club but it’s still early. It’ll be mobbed in another hour.”
“Won’t be able to stir ’em with a stick.”
“What?”
She laughs. “It’s an expression we say in the South. Means a place is really crowded.”
She’s hasn’t told me where she’s from but I already know from when I did the online search for her photography studio.
A new song picks up where Sia left off, and we’ll have to scream at one another if we want to continue any kind of conversation. “Another drink?”
“Sure. It’s hot in here.”
I lead her from the dance floor toward the downstairs bar. “Want the same?”
She shrugs. “Suits me.”
Getting our drinks takes longer than I’d like. “A table just opened up in that little alcove. I’m gonna grab it while you’re waiting for our drinks.”
I order doubles since I’m in no hurry to stand in line for drinks again. Three is probably plenty for Bleu anyway. I’m guessing she’s a lightweight based on her size. I probably outweigh her by seventy pounds so it’s not fair to expect her to keep up.
I move through the crowd toward the table where Bleu’s waiting when I see one of my worst adversaries sitting next to her. Lloyd Buchanan, an officer who’s been after The Fellowship for years, is cozying up and talking into her ear. She’s leaning away, which means she doesn’t like the things he’s saying. “Move the fuck away from her.”
“What a lovely American lass you have with you tonight, Mr. Breckenridge.”