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  “There she is,” he says. I look over at the barmaid’s station and see her from behind. Her chestnut brown hair is pulled into a messy pile on top of her head. She’s wearing the typical Duncan uniform—a short plaid kilt and tight white blouse tied above her waist.

  She spins around while holding a tray of whiskies over one shoulder and smiles at Leith. She doesn’t give me so much as a glance when she walks by to deliver drinks to the table behind us. “Good-looking, eh?”

  She’s definitely bonny. I can’t debate that. “No woman is fit enough to put yourself on Dad’s and Abram’s shit lists.”

  He looks at the American as she bends over to pick up a napkin that blew off her serving tray. “I don’t know about that, buddy. Her bum is nice.”

  I watch her skirt ride almost up to the cheeks of her arse and then back down again when she stands. “She’s easy on the eyes, mate. I won’t argue that point but I can say with confidence that you’ve made a problem for yourself with the elders.”

  “If I get between those legs, it’ll be worth the fallout with Thane and Abram.”

  “Whatever.” Leith can’t be trusted to make the wisest decisions when it comes to The Fellowship. It’s a good thing he’s in charge of this bar and not within the inner circle where the big decisions are made. I’m certain Dad and Abram wouldn’t put up with his bullshit.

  The American lass passes by our table on the way back to her pouring station. Leith reaches out to catch her around the waist. “Come here. I want you to meet my other best mate.” He snakes his arm around her and grasps her hip, pulling her close. He’s being a wanker. “Meet the infamous Sinclair Breckenridge.”

  “The infamous, huh?” She smiles and holds out her hand. “Hi. Bleu MacAllister.”

  Bleu MacAllister. I repeat her name in my head five times as I look at her face so she’ll be etched in my memory. It’s probably unnecessary. I highly doubt I could forget her unusual name or bonny face. “It’s a pleasure, Miss MacAllister. May I ask what brings you to Edinburgh?”

  “My Aunt Edy, who was really my grandmother’s best friend, fell ill. Cancer. I was quite fond of her. She was like family so I came over to care for her during her last days.”

  “Then she’s already passed?” I ask.

  “Three weeks ago.”

  “And you’re still here?” I point out.

  “I’m the only one in the family who has the flexibility to stay and settle Edy’s estate.”

  “Is that a more dignified way of saying you don’t have a job?” I sound rude—exactly the way I intend.

  “Stop cross-examining her,” Leith warns. “You’ll have to excuse him, Bleu. He’s near finished his training to become a solicitor and he takes it a little too far sometimes.”

  I don’t need Leith to apologize for my actions. “I’m not taking anything too far. I’m making conversation about why a grown woman would not have a life or profession to get back to.”

  “I never said I didn’t have a life or profession.” She places her hand on her hip.

  “Then you have employment?”

  “I’m a photographer—mostly babies and brides. I’m the owner of a private studio so I have more freedom in my job than my father or sister.”

  “Yet you’re working in a bar as a wench?”

  “I’m a visitor, and as a lawyer, I’d think you’d be aware that I don’t have a work visa. Because I can’t be legally employed, I’m very grateful Leith hired me as a wench since Edinburgh isn’t a cheap place to live.”

  I do believe Miss MacAllister is a firecracker. “Did your aunt not leave you an inheritance?”

  “Yes, hence my reason for staying to settle her affairs. It’s time consuming, as I’m sure you understand, being that you’re in the legal profession.” She turns away from me to Leith. “Is your friend always this disagreeable?”

  Leith slides his hand from her hip to her arse. “Unquestionably.”

  She moves his hand off her bum. “You don’t pay me enough for that privilege.”

  “I can give you a raise.” Leith laughs.

  “I’m sure you can, boss,” she calls out over her shoulder as she walks away.

  “That lass is something, eh?”

  She’s beautiful and charming. I hope that doesn’t backfire on my pal. “My gut tells me she’s something all right, but what, I’m not certain.”

  “You’re always so paranoid.”

  He’s right. I suspect everyone but paranoia keeps me alive, so I’m perfectly fine with it.

  The next hour is much the same. Leith looks the part of a prick as he flirts with the American each time she walks by. She seems receptive to his advances but I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.

  I wonder how long she’ll be here. I hope not a minute longer than it takes to settle her business since Leith is too stupid to see this is a train wreck waiting to happen. Perhaps I should offer her legal assistance so I can hurry along the process. Private law concerning inheritance settlement isn’t my specialty but I know enough to advise her.

  “She’s back.” I don’t have to turn around to know whom Jamie means. It’s Geneen. “And she’s brought McLain with her again.”

  I turn around and Geneen smirks, looking proud to have me see her with another man. It’s laughable for her to think she could make me jealous.

  “You’re a tube if you don’t go over there and beat him until he pisses himself.”

  I despise that bitch for coming here with him but Jamie’s right. She’s forcing my hand or I’ll appear weak in front of the brotherhood. I can’t have that. “I will, but not before Geneen gets a penance fuck for doing this.” I’ll get far more satisfaction from that than slamming my fist into McLain’s face.

  I get up from the table and go over to her. She’s sitting on a barstool next to her new man. I grab her arm and squeeze. “To the back. Now.” I look at McLain. “And not a fucking word out of you.”

  She grins because I’m guessing she thinks she knows what going to the back means. Too bad for her, she’s mistaken.

  I know her kind. They think they can win my heart with hot sex but she couldn’t be more wrong. I’ll use her up and toss her aside, just like the rubber I’ll wear when I fuck her.

  I lead her into the storage room and reach under her dress. I roughly yank her knickers down her legs and shove her back against the shelving unit. I’m sure it’s uncomfortable but we aren’t doing this for anyone’s pleasure but my own.

  The fleeting thought of pleasure causes me to change my mind about how we’re going to do this. If I fuck Geneen, I’ll be giving her exactly what she wants, so I decide she’ll suck me off instead.

  I step away from her. “I changed my mind. Get on your knees.” She steps forward and tries to kiss me but I shove her away. Her mouth will never touch mine. “I said, get on your knees.”

  She lowers herself to the floor and unzips my trousers. She’s reaching inside for my knob when the door swings open. Leith’s new American barmaid barges into the room and stands with her hands on her hips. “Can you move over, please? You’re blocking me from what I need to get.”

  Is she serious? “No. I’m busy. Come back after we’re finished.”

  “Kenrick sent me to fetch a bottle of Ballantine’s and you’re in my way.”

  This girl would never speak to me like this if she was from here and knew who I was. She’d show me respect. “Can’t you see what’s happening here?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s something I can never unsee.” She points to my left. “I’m certain she can still give you a first-class blow job eighteen inches in that direction.”

  Neither of us makes a move and she huffs. “Look, all the leaves on my give-a-fuck tree have fallen. It’s been a long day. I’ve been grabbed and fondled by strange men for the last six hours. Some old geezer slipped his hand up my skirt and I had to smile and kindly encourage him to remove it … instead of breaking his face with my fist. I’m tired. I just want to finish my job so
I can go home and have one or a dozen glasses of wine and then pass out. I’m not asking for much.”

  This lass’s behavior is absurd—and highly entertaining. I shove my cock back in my pants and step out of her way. “You heard Miss MacAllister. We’re in her way.”

  Geneen laughs but not because she’s amused by this American called Bleu. “Oh, hell no. I’m not moving,” she says, arms crossed and still kneeling.

  “Then you should probably expect this to be hugely unpleasant,” Bleu says.

  “Really?”

  I’m caught completely off guard when Bleu punches Geneen directly in the center of her face, knocking her to the floor, and then kicks her in the gut. She doesn’t give her another glance as she reaches over her crumpled body. I watch her grab a bottle of whisky and inspect it. “I believe this will do nicely.” She sashays toward the door, calling back over her shoulder, “Carry on.”

  I burst into laughter as I help Geneen from the floor. “The girl must be certifiably crazy, but my God, that was the most entertaining thing I’ve seen since … ever.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Geneen touches her face. “I think that bitch broke my nose.”

  I look at her and confirm her suspicion. Her nose is definitely no longer in the center of her face. “I fear you’re right. Looks broken to me.”

  “I’m kicking her arse,” Geneen growls as she starts for the door.

  I grab her arm but not because I fear for Bleu’s safety. I’m certain she can do a right nice job of protecting herself. “There will be none of that, I’m afraid.”

  Bleu has greatly lifted my mood so I’m feeling far too generous to give a penance fuck or start a fight. “Get out of here. Take McLain with you and never come back.”

  Chapter Three

  Bleu MacAllister

  I’m serving ale to four of The Fellowship members when I see Sinclair return from the storage room. My back is to him but I watch his reflection in the mirror behind the bar as he returns to the table to sit with Leith and Jamie. I eye him carefully, not allowing him to see I’m observing him, but I read his lips: “I handled Geneen. She won’t be coming back here again.”

  Jamie and Leith respond but I can’t see their mouths.

  I return to my station and watch Sinclair’s mouth from afar. “That American you hired is passionate about her job.” He recounts the events in the storage room and their laughter reverberates through the bar. Good. I’m glad they find me amusing.

  They drink until all the patrons are gone and only employees remain. Lorna is instructing me in the last of the closing duties when Leith comes over to send us home for the night. “About finished, lasses?”

  “Close enough,” Lorna says. “I’ll show you the rest tomorrow.”

  We go to the tiny hole in the wall called a break room and fetch our things.

  “Can I get a ride home, Leith?” Lorna asks. “My car is in the shop.” I get the distinct impression that a lift home isn’t the only thing she’s talking about.

  “I was going to take Bleu home since it’s her first night.”

  There’s no way I’m getting into a car with Leith Duncan. He’s put his hands on my ass no fewer than a half-dozen times. If he does it again, I’m going to kick the shit out of him and I doubt it would be well received for me to whip my boss’s ass on the first day. Plus it would jeopardize the connection I’m trying to make with Sinclair. “Thank you for the offer but I’m fine. It’s a short walk, not more than ten minutes at most.”

  “I want to take you home,” he insists. Right—and then come up for a nightcap fuck? No, thank you.

  “Another time, boss.” I put my bag on my shoulder and walk toward the exit, my signal to let him know this discussion is over. “See you tomorrow.”

  I go out the door and walk in the direction of my faux late-aunt’s house. It’s really the furnished flat of a woman who recently died but it’s what I’ll call home for the next two to three months.

  The flat was a nice score. Every once in a while, the moon and stars align perfectly. And this was that one time for me. The flat’s owner was a terminally ill elderly lady with no living relatives. She once lived in Tennessee, two cities over from my grandparents. If her life is investigated by The Fellowship, everything they’ll find will lead them to believe I’m telling the truth.

  I’m no more than two minutes into my walk when a black luxury sedan creeps alongside me. The windows are tinted darker than night so I can’t see inside. I suspect it’s Leith making one last attempt to drive me home.

  The back passenger window lowers and luck is with me. It’s Sinclair. “Get in.”

  This guy is used to getting everything he wants so I think it’s time I make things interesting. “Thanks for the exceptionally courteous invite, but no thanks. I’ll walk.”

  Do I think Sinclair Breckenridge gives a shit if I make it home safely? No. Do I think he wants to know where I live so he can ransack my place while I’m not there? Absolutely. And he can knock himself out trying to discover a hole in my story but he won’t find one.

  I spin to walk away but hear him call out behind me. “Get in. Please.” He sounds as though it pains him to say that word. Good. He should learn a little humility. It would serve him well.

  I hesitate for a moment, as though I’m thinking it over before I get into the car with him. “I couldn’t decline your invitation since you said please.”

  “I’ll need to remember that in the future.”

  This will be a short drive. We won’t have much time for talk. “I don’t live far, just six blocks ahead on the right.”

  “I’d like to apologize.”

  “For which incident? Questioning me as though I was a belligerent witness or refusing to move after I asked you nicely to get out of my way?”

  He laughs. “Both, although I’m not exactly sure your request was polite. I seem to recall you sounding a wee bit on the bossy side.”

  “Then I apologize for being rude while interrupting your blow job.” I read his lips when he told Leith and Jamie he was going to give her a penance fuck. It’s unfortunate for his sex life that being with another woman doesn’t fit into my plan to make him fall for me. I’ll be cock-blocking him at every opportunity.

  “You broke Geneen’s nose.” Good. It’ll keep her from getting in the way.

  I shrug. “I probably shouldn’t have done that but I rather enjoyed it after she got smart with me.”

  “Would you have broken my nose as well if I hadn’t done as you asked?”

  I shrug and laugh. “Maybe.”

  “Ahh … another thing to remember for the future. Who taught you to throw a punch like that?”

  I hold up my hand and flex it as though it might be in pain. But it isn’t. I know the proper way to hit someone without injuring myself. “My dad. He wanted me to be able to protect myself.” Total truth. It’s likely the only time he’ll get that out of me.

  “Mission accomplished. He did a quality job.”

  “That’s not all. Per his instruction, I also do an exceptional job of grabbing a man by the balls and forcing him to his knees.”

  He’s amused again. “Then I should worry about the wallopers at Duncan’s instead of you?”

  “Indeed.” I point to my building. “This is my flat on the right.”

  His driver pulls to the side and turns off the car’s engine. I think that’s a sign he expects his employer to come in. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Anytime.”

  He trails behind and attempts to follow me inside so I put my hand to his chest and stop him. “Good night, Mr. Breckenridge.” Women fall at this man’s feet. They literally go to their knees for him whenever he says so my plan to win him over has to be different. I must capture his heart in a new and unfamiliar way. I have to be a challenge, a conquest he’s desperate to conquer.

  “Mr. Breckenridge is my father. Please, call me Sin.”

  “Then good night, Sin.”

  He takes my han
d and kisses the top. “Good night, Bonny Bleu.”

  Damn, he’s a handsome and charming villain.

  I spy on him through the peephole as he returns to his car. He stops before getting inside and I’m certain he’s taking note of my address. I have no doubt that 114 Lansbury Way will fall under scrutiny by tomorrow’s nightfall. Good thing I’m prepared for his probing. Still, I’m calling Harry. One last run-through of the plan never hurts.

  * * *

  I work an eight-hour shift at Duncan’s with no sign of Sinclair. I already know he doesn’t come in every night, but I’d hoped yesterday’s events would’ve sparked his interest enough to bring him around. Guess not. That means I must do better.

  I’m walking to my flat after declining a second insistent offer from Leith to drive me home. He’s becoming more aggressive and I can see it developing into a problem if Sinclair doesn’t declare me his soon. That’s an impossibility when I don’t have contact with him.

  This is a race, not a sprint. I can’t expect Sinclair to fall at my feet on day one. That’s why I must bet on the long play.

  I get to my flat and gloat when I see a black Mercedes parked on the street. I’ve memorized his plates so I confirm it’s Sinclair but I don’t allow myself to appear as though I’ve noticed. I go about my business as I would if the car weren’t parked there.

  Once inside, I peek through the curtains down at the street. Why didn’t he get out when I walked by? Did he not see me?

  “Aye, that’s my car.”

  Shit. He’s already inside.

  “Shit!” I spin around and appear startled because that’s what normal people do when they find an uninvited guest in their home. “You scared the hell out of me.” I place my hand to my chest. “What are you doing in here?”

  “You didn’t ask me in after I drove you home so I thought I’d extend an invitation to myself tonight.”

  He wants to have me believe he can get to me any time he likes, with or without my permission. It’s a scare tactic and I have to make him believe he’s succeeded. “You can’t come into my house like this. What if I had a gun and shot you … or something?”