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  She nods. “I get it.”

  “You’d be the first woman.”

  She smiles. “Have you yet to understand that I’m not like other females?”

  “I figured that out the day we met.”

  Bleu sits on the bench as I approach the ring. “You didn’t mention you were bringing anyone,” Jamie says.

  I climb into the enclosure. No need to discuss who my opponent will be—Leith steps into the role without a word. He slams his gloves on top of mine. “Let’s do this.”

  Jamie moves to the corner. “Something going on that I don’t know about?” He’s confused. That means Leith hasn’t confided in Jamie about Bleu.

  “No. Sin’s fucked me over again,” Leith says. “But that’s nothing new.”

  Completely untrue. “I didn’t fuck you over.”

  “Says the mate who’s with the girl I wanted.”

  “She isn’t interested.”

  “She didn’t have a chance to be. You made sure of that.”

  “Bleu met you before me. She’d be with you if she wanted to be.”

  “Hello? Right here, guys,” Bleu calls out. “I can hear everything you’re saying.”

  I stop foot working and bobbing. “Hit me, Leith. You’ll feel better so just do it and get it over with.”

  “Not with a sucker punch. I’m going to beat you fair and square.”

  “We’ve never done anything fair and square in our lives.” I resume the defensive stance.

  “Come on, mates,” Jamie says. “You’re both being arses.”

  “No, Jamie,” I call out. I’m pissed off now. “My best pal wants a real fight so that’s what he’s getting.”

  I bob, dodging Leith’s signature right jab. “When you goin’ to learn that punch is predictable coming from you?”

  Leith’s an out-boxer fighter. That means he stays out of my reach because he knows when I hit, it’s a potential knockout. He steps in and makes the identical punch again, landing it against my right cheek. I roll my shoulder upward and rub it against my face. Motherfucker, that hurt.

  “I don’t guess it’s too predictable since you didn’t see that one coming,” he says, laughing.

  He’s slipping, a maneuver to evade my coming punch, but it’s not enough to avoid the left uppercut I land against his jaw. “Just like you didn’t see that one comin’, pal.”

  I’m a brawler. I don’t have the finesse or the footwork I had before my amputation but my strength is in the power of my punch. I win with knockouts. Hard ones.

  He stumbles backward and shakes his head before stepping in too soon and taking a hook. He closes his eyes and I suspect it’s because he’s seeing stars. “Had enough yet, mate?”

  He growls and charges, attempting to trap me in the clinch so I can’t throw a straight punch, but it’s me who pins his arms instead. The clinch isn’t a strong defense position for me because of my amputation. He knows this so he’s using it against me. He means to take me down in front of Bleu.

  He uses his foot to sweep my prosthesis off balance. I go down hard and fast before he straddles me and begins punching. “Why do you always have to take everything I want? Every. Fucking. Time.” I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  I have to defend myself so I flip him onto his back and land punch after punch against his face before Jamie grabs me beneath my arms and drags me away. “Stop!” he yells.

  I stand and adjust my prosthesis so I can regain my balance. Bleu rushes to get between Leith and me, holding me at bay while looking at my nose. “That escalated quickly.”

  I feel warmth oozing down my face. I put my glove under my shirt and wipe it away. It’s blood, as I suspected. “This is what we do when we have a problem.” I lean around Bleu and look at Leith. “Except for the part where my best mate uses my prosthesis as a way to drop me in front of a lass.” I wipe at the blood continuing to stream from my nose.

  “She knows?” Jamie asks.

  “If she didn’t, she would after that cheap shot.” I take my gloves off and pull my shirt over my head so I can use it to stop the bleeding. “By the way, Leith. Bleu won’t be back to work for you at the bar.”

  “Why?” He looks at her. “Is he paying you to be his whore?”

  Bleu spins around and the peacekeeper becomes the assailant. “Me and you. Gloves off.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not fighting you,” Leith says, laughing.

  “You don’t mind insulting a woman but you’re too much of a gentleman to hit one?” I recognize the stance Bleu takes and laugh inwardly. Leith is in deep shit. He has no idea he needs to take the defensive against Bleu, but he’ll get no warning from me.

  “Come on. You just saw what I’m capable of doing.”

  “I wasn’t impressed.” Bleu delivers a short-straight punch to Leith’s chin, a hit he clearly wasn’t expecting based on his reaction. “You want to know why I chose Muay Thai over the other forms of martial arts and kickboxing?”

  Leith rubs his chin. “Damn, Bleu.”

  “Knee and elbow strikes are permitted.” Bleu darts to Leith’s side and spins before delivering a well-placed elbow strike to his ribs, sending him to his knees. “Just so you know… he isn’t paying me to be his whore. He’s claimed me.”

  Chapter 11

  Bleu MacAllister

  One night together and he asks me to move in? I suppose my virginity was a bigger asset than I anticipated. Who knew it would be so easy? But I won’t mistake confidence for trust. Sinclair Breckenridge shared his secret because he would have no qualms about killing me if I even thought of talking.

  I feel bad about what I did to Leith. But in my defense, he called me a whore. He shouldn’t have done that. I’m certain it’s a mistake he won’t be making again. All ended well between us, though. He apologized, and I accepted. Water under the bridge as far as I’m concerned.

  Sin looks at me frequently during the drive to his house. Sometimes it’s my face but mostly my body. He has a hungry look in his eyes. It’s the same one I’ve seen each time my tenacious side has made an appearance. A strong woman turns him on. That means I know what we’ll be doing when we get back.

  We barely make it through the front door before he pulls me into his arms. His mouth crashes into mine and it isn’t gentle. He’s made love to the virgin and now he wants to fuck the fighter.

  I move my mouth down his neck and taste the salt. “God, you’re sweaty.”

  “I was last night as well but I don’t recall you minding.”

  He’s shirtless, his saturated with red, and he has small traces of blood still around his nose and upper lip. “And you’re bloody.”

  “So were you last night but I don’t recall me holding it against you.” He snickers.

  “That was crude… and true.”

  He urges me to the sofa, forcing me to fall on it when he pushes me backward. “Who are you and where did you come from?” He’s wearing a seductive grin so I know I’m safe. “I have a hard time believing a typical small-town girl from Tennessee would be a grand master in Muay Thai.”

  Rule number one: lies are like boomerangs. You better throw them out as hard and far as you can because they always eventually come back. “My uncle is an instructor.”

  He lowers himself to the sofa so he’s lying on top of me. His mouth immediately goes for my neck. “He taught you well. You delivered that elbow strike with extraordinary precision. I was very proud.” He’s hard. I feel it pressed against my stomach.

  “And very turned on.”

  “You can tell, aye?” He hovers above me and moves his mouth down my cheek. He puts his hand between my legs and rubs my crotch through my yoga pants.

  I want to do it again but I haven’t emotionally dealt with the actuality of what I’ve done with Sinclair. I loved every touch and sensation my body experienced last night—and then again early this morning after my nightmare.

  When I awoke to him comforting me, I’d been dreaming of that night. He held m
e and stroked my hair, whispering in my ear, “I have you, Bonny. You’re safe. It was just a bad dream.”

  He makes me feel feminine and desired. No other man has ever done that so I couldn’t help myself. I had to have him again, so I was the one to initiate sex. And it was magnificent.

  This is messed up. Sinclair isn’t just any petty criminal; he’s a killer. And a monster. He didn’t kill my mother but he’s the spawn of the man who did. I’m supposed to be sickened by his touch, so why am I desperate to have more of it?

  Something must be terribly wrong with me.

  We hear the sound of a shutting car door and look at one another. “Seems you have a visitor.” We rise to a sitting position as a knock sounds on the door.

  “Aye, and whoever it is decided to come at a very inconvenient time,” he groans. He goes to the window and draws the drape for a look. “This can’t be good.”

  “Who is it?”

  “My father.”

  Holy shit. I’m about to come face to face with Thane Breckenridge. “I can’t be introduced to your dad looking like this.” I won’t meet him wearing yoga pants and a ponytail. I grab my bag from the floor and run toward the stairs. “I just need ten minutes.”

  He calls out my name but I don’t acknowledge it. I’m afraid he’ll tell me I can’t meet Thane. “Okay. Make that fifteen.”

  I burst into Sin’s bedroom and look at what I have in my bag. Not much. I could put on the dress I brought for tonight. That would catch his attention but it’s not what I’m looking to do. I need Thane to look at me and see my mother. I want him to be reminded of what he did to Amanda Lawrence.

  It won’t be difficult to jog his memory. I have my mother’s… everything. Thick chestnut hair, identical shade of steel-blue eyes. I got nothing from my biological father. I’m sure everyone would comment on how similar we look if she were still living. But she isn’t. Thane made her an angel in the ground.

  I completely expect him to be confused when he looks at me and sees my mother’s face. He’ll try to work it out in his head—how a young woman can look so much like a person he killed. Even if he suspected I was her daughter, Stella Lawrence is dead according to the forged death certificate.

  The world wasn’t so technologically advanced eighteen years ago. It was pretty easy to have me declared dead on paper since Harry knew all the right people to make it happen. He took extreme measures for my protection, going as far as having a headstone placed next to my mother’s, so her killer would never return for me.

  I’m still rummaging through my bag for something to wear when Sin comes into his bedroom. “Bonny, you can’t meet my father.”

  “Why not?”

  “I told you that The Fellowship won’t approve of us being involved with one another because you aren’t one of us.”

  “Oh.” I shrug and fold the blouse I was considering and return it to my bag. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be. Perhaps you’d like to read in the study while I’m tied up. It’s well stocked.”

  “I guess I can do that.” I could, but I won’t. I’ll be formulating a plan to get to Thane. There’s no way I’m going to be in the same house as my target and miss being introduced to him.

  “Are you always so agreeable?” He embraces me and places a featherlight kiss on my temple.

  “Never. I guess you just have a way with me.” I return his embrace, my arms around his middle squeezing tightly. “I’ll be here waiting when you’re finished.”

  “We might have to take a rain check on spending the rest of the day together. It depends on what we decide to do about our problem.”

  Perfect. I know exactly how this will play out. “Do what you must.”

  I wait forty minutes and decide to put my plan into action. I place my bag on my shoulder and make my way toward Sin’s office. I knock softly, waiting for him to tell me to enter, but he doesn’t. Instead, he opens the door and stares at me. I did this knowing I was risking his wrath. Well, I think I have it. He looks furious.

  “I’m sorry to be interrupting but I can see that you’re very busy,” I whisper. “I’m gonna go. We can do this another day when you aren’t tied up with business.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs. “I need another thirty minutes. Maybe forty-five.”

  His large frame is blocking my view of Thane but I hear him. “Sin, you didn’t tell me you had a visitor. I’d like to meet your guest, son.” His voice makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

  Sin says nothing and opens the door the rest of the way so I may enter. Thane rises and turns to greet me. The shocked expression he’s wearing sends chills down my spine.

  He holds out his hand and I place mine inside his. I’m touching the finger that pulled the trigger of the gun that killed my mother. This hand is one of two that held a pillow over my face until I could no longer breathe. “I’m Thane Breckenridge.”

  I see where Sin gets his good looks. Father and son are very similar. I didn’t realize that until now. I can imagine a younger Thane looking very much the way his son does today. For the first time ever, I can consider the reason my mother might have been having a relationship with this man. Despite the gray hair at his temples and crow’s-feet around his eyes, he’s very handsome. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Breckenridge. I’m Bleu MacAllister.”

  “Bleu,” he whispers while studying my face. “You’re American.”

  “Yes. I’m in Edinburgh to settle my late aunt’s estate and final arrangements.” He’s blatantly staring at me. It’s unnerving. “Is something wrong, Mr. Breckenridge?”

  “You remind me of someone I once knew. The resemblance is uncanny.” Perfect. He’s seeing me just as I hoped he would.

  “You know what they say—everyone has a twin somewhere.”

  “True, but it’s more than your appearance. Your voice sounds just like hers. The accent is a dead ringer.”

  “She must have been southern.” I laugh. “I hope I’ve spurred happy memories.”

  “Aye. I loved her very much.” He could’ve said anything but that. He didn’t love my mother. If he did, he wouldn’t have killed her.

  “It’s good to know I don’t bring up bad recollections for you.” I adjust my bag on my shoulder. “My apologies, again. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.” I look at Sin. “We’ll try this again at a more convenient time.”

  I’ve planted the seed in Thane’s mind. His head must be spinning about who I am and where I came from.

  “Stay, Miss MacAllister.” There’s no request in the tone of Thane’s voice. It’s a demand. “Go change into something suitable for dining out. I’m taking you to lunch. I want to get to know the young lady in my son’s life.”

  I look to Sin, as if to ask permission. He nods, not really able to go against his father’s request. “I’d like that very much.”

  I turn to leave but stop because a picture frame captures my attention. It’s the photo of me, the one he took from my apartment. It’s sitting on the corner of his desk facing his chair—staring right at him while he works. He was telling the truth.

  I’ve finished showering and I’m applying makeup when Sin comes into the bathroom and stands behind me. I line my eyes and smudge it, not looking up. “I’m not at all pleased with you. I specifically said you couldn’t meet my father. I explained why and you ignored what I said.”

  I knew this was coming. I’ve made a huge problem for myself and now I must fix it. “I’m really sorry. I was going to quietly slip away but I was afraid you’d get angry if you found me gone without a goodbye.”

  “I need you to understand that there are boundaries you don’t cross with The Fellowship. I’m pissing all over one of the most important ones by being with you.”

  “Do you want me to leave?” I try to look pouty since it seems to have struck his soft spot when I did it before.

  “Of course not, but I need you to listen and do as I ask.”

&nb
sp; “You should know now I’m not very good at that.”

  “Then become good at it.”

  “I can do that for you.” I turn and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I kiss him hard so he’ll forget our quarrel.

  He nips my bottom lip and pulls back just enough to look at my face. “I think I’ve figured out what you are.”

  I watch his eyes for any sign of my cover being blown. “And what have you decided?”

  He’s grinning so I relax. “A sorceress. You must be because you’ve enchanted my father.”

  I couldn’t ask for better news. “How did I manage that? You were there and heard our conversation. I said nothing of consequence.”

  “Despite what you said, or didn’t say, he’s quite taken with you—as am I.” He laughs. “If he wasn’t waiting for us, I’d take you back to bed right now.” He smiles before placing a kiss on the top of my head. “But he is.”

  I lift a brow, giving him a seductive look. “He won’t be later.”

  “I’ll remember that when we get home.”

  “I’m in the mood for a romantic tale. Tell me more about your American.” My elbow is propped on top of the table. My chin is resting on my palm and I attempt to appear dreamy-eyed.

  He’s grinning, as though his head is filled with fond memories. “Oh… it was many years ago.”

  I’m not letting it go that easily. I want to hear what he has to say about my mother. “Let me guess. Your American girl came to Edinburgh as a tourist and you had a whirlwind romance before she returned home.”

  “No, it was nothing like that.” He shakes his head. “I met her in the US while I was on business.”

  “Was your first meeting a romantic one?”

  “It was anything but. She was my blackjack dealer. The pretty lass took me for twenty thousand dollars during a span of thirty minutes.”

  That can’t be the reason he killed her. If so, she wouldn’t have been having him over at our apartment on her nights off. “Wow, I bet that stung.”