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“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.”
