“Oh yeah?” he asks, a slight hint of amusement in his tone.
“Someone I had a relationship with. Her name’s Sindaria Westin—goes by Sin.”
Kynan lets out a bark of laughter. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. You dated a woman named Sin and your name’s Saint?”
He guffaws, and I let him have it. It’s funny… I get it.
“Anyway…” I drawl as his chuckles wind down. “She’s in Mercier’s employ. In fact, she’s going to be doing the upcoming job with me.”
“Bad blood between you two?” Kynan asks, his concern obviously about whether she’s going to screw up my cover.
“Nothing that will affect what I’m doing… but if they want her involved in the big heist down the road, I’ll need you to get her out clean along with me,” I say, finally voicing the one thing that’s been eating at me since I first saw her yesterday. Don’t get me wrong—I realize I’ve been hired to take this whole ring down.
And that includes Sin.
One would think I would relish the chance to send her to prison as a little bit of payback for what she did to me.
But, deep down, I know I can’t go there. I don’t have it in me to ruin her that way, not knowing now she’d been trying to save me.
I have to do what I can for her.
“That’s going to be tricky,” Kynan replies. “It could compromise you.”
“I won’t let it,” I assure him. “But I need you to know I’m not blowing anything open until I’m sure she’ll be far away from it all.”
Kynan sucks in an audible breath, then lets it out. “I trust you, Saint. You’ll figure it out, but if I can help, you know I will.”
That’s all I can hope for at this point.
CHAPTER 7
Sin
Four years ago…
“You’re late,” I called out softly from the bed as Saint tiptoed through the darkness. He was trying to be quiet. He always took his shoes and socks off at the door so he didn’t tap dance his way across my hardwood floors when he came in late.
He switched on the lamp, lighting up his handsome face. With a grin, he swept his eyes from my face to the sheet covering my body. His fingertip went to the edge, then started to drag it down. “Are you naked under there?”
“Of course, I am,” I snapped—grabbing at the cotton to stop the descent—although I wasn’t angry. I loved to give him a hard time. “Naked and tired of waiting for you.”
Lowering himself to the edge of the mattress, he took a seat near my hip. I scooted over a tad to give him some room. “I got you something. That’s why I’m late.”
“Really?” One eyebrow cocked up in interest, I rolled to my side to face him. I went up on one elbow, still clutching the sheet to cover my breasts.
“It’s our anniversary,” he replied, reaching into the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket. In the time I’d known Saint, he was usually in a custom-made or designer suit, typically because he was crashing upper-class soirees to case potential loot to steal.
Saint pulled out a small velvet bag, loosened the drawstring, and reached inside.
I couldn’t help but gasp when he pulled out a diamond tennis bracelet that sparkled even in the low, ambient light of the lamp.
“Where did you steal that from?” I asked as he pulled my wrist toward him so he could put the stunner on me.
Saint made a scoffing noise deep in his throat. “I didn’t steal it, sweet but skeptical Sin. I bought it.”
“You bought it?” I asked, my eyebrows shooting up. I was indeed skeptical when it came to the opposite sex.
“I bought it because it’s our three-month anniversary,” he said, clasping the bracelet. After pressing a kiss to the inside of my wrist, he let go. I held it up to admire it, a warm feeling brewing inside me. “Three months ago tonight is when we met.”
“You mean when you stole from me,” I said with a snicker.
“Best move I ever made in this business,” he murmured.
This time, my heart flopped over.
Surrendered.
I rolled to my back, letting the sheet fall away to expose my breasts. To give him credit, his eyes stay pinned on my face.
“What do you see in me?” I asked, the shocking vulnerability in those words making me wince as soon as they’re released.
“Beauty,” he replied as he rose from his perch on the mattress. He took off his suit jacket, then tossed it onto the back of a chair by the window. After he loosened his tie, he removed it, too.
“Sex.” His voice rumbled over that short word, his gaze dropping briefly to my breasts before returning to my face. He unbuttoned his dress shirt and slid it off, then yanked off the soft cotton t-shirt underneath. The muscles in his abdomen rippled with the movement, and I took in the defined chest and soft hair that covered his middle. He was all man, and I throbbed for him.
“Love,” he whispered as he unbuttoned his pants.
“Love?” My voice was raspy, the word feeling foreign as it came out.
“You love passionately,” he explained. With one smooth motion, he pushed his pants and boxers to the floor. He was beautifully naked, his cock hanging low and heavy.
I couldn’t help but appreciate that one piece of him that owned me completely. “What do I love passionately?”
Taking himself in hand, he started to stroke. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, eyes wide as he lengthened… swelled… became what I needed.
Saint didn’t answer my question, though. Instead, he approached the bed and snatched the covers off me. He climbed in and covered me, settling the length of his body against mine. Automatically spreading my legs, I cradled him there.
Pushing his elbows into the mattress at my sides, Saint leaned down and kissed me gently. It was so soft—a mere brush of lips—at odds with the hardness of his cock pressed against me.
Lifting his head, he looked down, allowing his eyes to roam. His lips curled up, and he shook his head slightly. One hand moved to my hair, a fingertip curling around one of my locks.
“I love your fucking hair,” he murmured as he took me in. “When it’s spread out on the pillow like this, it looks like a damn halo around you. You’re a fucking angel, Sin.”
I laughed, knocking his hand away because he was embarrassing me. I should be used to it by now—Saint’s ability to lay compliments at my feet like sweet poetry. He did it all the time, and I had a hard time accepting it.
“My anti-halo, you mean,” I returned jokingly.
Saint chuckled, then gave me a hard kiss. “You’re cute when you can’t take a compliment.”
Then his eyes warmed… turned profoundly serious. “But now, I think I very much want to fuck you.”
“Of all the things you’ve said to me tonight,” I said with a sly smile. “That’s my favorite.”
“Hmmm,” he murmured, and I could hear the doubt in his voice. He knew my favorite thing was that I loved passionately, but I wouldn’t admit it.
He knew me so damn well, this thief of mine.
Saint’s mouth came back to mine, and we kissed. It was always a perfect mating of lips and tongue. So damned perfect all the time.