A Necessary Sin: The Sin Trilogy: Book I

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.”

“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?”