A Necessary Sin: The Sin Trilogy: Book I

Jamie stops and looks at us but doesn’t say a word before returning to his suture job.

“Surprisingly well. She helped me choose this bedding.” I want to tell him he’s wrong about her but now isn’t the time.

“The bedding that I’ve now ruined.”

“It can be replaced. You’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

He picks up one of the pillows next to his head. “I want you to buy this same set again, ruffled pillows and all.”

“You like it that much?”

“You like it so I like it.”

Jamie leaves after he’s finished caring for Sin and it’s the two of us. “We should get you out of these trousers.”

“Now, you’re talking.” He lifts his hips when I pull downward. “I believe you, Miss MacAllister, are trying to take advantage of a man while he’s on the poppy.”

“You wish.”

“Aye. That is an incredibly accurate statement.”

I wrestle his pants off and decide to leave him in his boxer briefs. The morphine is kicking in. I don’t feel like dressing a giant toddler.

His breathing becomes heavy and steady. He’s asleep.

I can’t believe I’ve come so far with Sin in such a short period. It was my plan to make it happen as quickly as possible. I wanted to get the job done and return home but I never dreamed it would occur in this short time. At this rate, I’ll be inside Thane’s home very soon. And my work here will be done.

I push Sin’s hair from his forehead. “I’m going to miss you when I’m gone. I truly will.”





Chapter Sixteen





Sinclair Breckenridge




Bleu hasn’t been happy with me in days. She thinks I should have stayed home to recuperate longer. I think differently.

We’re alike in so many ways but this isn’t one of them. I don’t know how to make her understand that this wound is nothing. It was a simple gunshot to my shoulder. I’ve been through so much worse.

“Mr. Breckenridge.” I look up to see my secretary standing at my desk. “Are you feeling all right ?”

“Of course.”

She looks puzzled. “I called your name three times before you responded.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

“You were looking right at me, sir.” I don’t think so. I’d remember looking straight at her while she said my name. “You don’t look like your usual self, Mr. Breckenridge. You’re pale.”

The truth is I don’t feel well. “I could be coming down with something. I think I’ll take the rest of the afternoon off.”

“Take it easy over the weekend,” Heather says. “You’ll be back to a hundred percent by Monday.”

Rest. That’s what I need. “I’ll do that. See you next week.”

I get into my car but the next coherent moment I have is when I realize Sterling is waiting for me to get out of the car. I can’t remember the drive home from work. “Are you all right, sir?” No. I’m not. Something isn’t right.

“I’m fine. That will be all.”

I go into the house and call out for Bleu. I’ve come to know better than to startle her by coming home unannounced. She’d probably throat punch me before I knew what hit me. “Bonny, I’m home early.”

She comes into the living room from the back of the house and I can tell she’s recently come home from her daily run. “Hey. This is a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting you for a few more hours.”

She’s going to enjoy hearing me admit this. “I fear you were right, Dr. MacAllister. I believe the shooting has finally caught up with me.”

“See? Do you believe that I know what I’m talking about now? You. Need. Rest.”

No way I’m arguing with her. “I think I’ll lie on the couch for a while. Maybe watch some TV.”

“Can I get you anything?”

I shake my head no.

“Then I’m going to get a shower. I’m stinky.” I usually love catching her hot and sweaty so I can help her out of her clothes and into the shower. But not today.

I fall onto the sofa.

“After my shower, I want to show you the pictures I took today.” Her voice fades as she walks toward the bedroom. “They’re magnificent. I think I could sell them to a travel magazine or something like that.” Or maybe she’s fading because I’m drifting.



* * *



I wake to Bleu calling my name. “Breck! You’re burning up with fever.”

“Hmm … ?” Again, I’m confused.

Hands are touching my face, moving from my cheeks to my forehead and back again. “You’re on fire.”

No, I’m not. I’m shivering because I’m so cold. “I need a blanket. I’m freezing.”

“I’m going to help you up so I can take you to the emergency room.”

I’m not confused about that. “Hell no, you’re not.”

“You’re sick. Bad.”

“I may be but I’m not going to the hospital.” My voice is stern. I’m not in the mood to discuss it.

“Something’s not right about this.”

I curl into a ball so I can get warm. “Call Jamie.”

“Excuse me if I don’t have a lot of faith in his medical care right now.”

Georgia Cates's books