A Necessary Sin: The Sin Trilogy: Book I

“I see that.” He’s surprised I play—perhaps even a little impressed. “I don’t know the song but I can see you play quite well.”


“It’s called “Black Orchid” by Blue October.” This is a song I’ve played no less than a thousand times, mostly when I’ve been in a dark place I couldn’t escape. The lyrics are about deep depression but oddly, it brings me comfort.

I’ve allowed myself few things in life that had nothing to do with my plan to end Thane, but my love for catching still images through photography and the joy of playing my violin take the top two spots. Each has allowed me to decompress and express my feelings in ways no one could possibly understand.

I shrug when I finish and curtsy.

“You’re full of trickery, Bonny Bleu.”

“You should probably know it won’t be the last time.” Total truth.

Sin takes the violin and bow from me, placing both on his desk. He glides his hands down the satin gown over my hips and rests them at my lower back. “I’ve never had so much in common with a woman, or with anyone for that matter. Not even Leith or Jamie.” He’s holding me close and looks as though he wants to kiss me but doesn’t. Instead, he studies my face, beginning at my eyes. “I’m not sure what to make of it.” He strokes the back of his fingers down my cheek and rubs his thumb over my bottom lip. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known. You don’t need me to protect you, and while I love that about you, I hate it as well. I sometimes find myself wishing you needed me, maybe just a little.”

I emasculate Sin, just like every other man I encounter. It’s my curse. My durability is going to cause me to blow this if I’m not careful. “I can be your china doll.”

“That’s not what I’m asking for, Bleu. I don’t need to break you to feel like a man.”

Then what does he want from me? “I don’t understand.”

“I want to be your protector. I’m asking you to let me do that if the time comes.” I think there’s something he isn’t telling me.

I’ve never had a man, other than Harry, who wanted to protect me. The turmoil I’m experiencing is bewildering. He’s asking me to submit to him. While that’s everything I’ve never wanted, it’s all I yearn to do when I look into his eyes.

“I’m yours to keep safe.” My submission to Sin feels like a literal door swinging open to a world I’ve never known while the one behind me slams shut.

“It doesn’t escape me that your agreement to this is a concession.” He brushes his lips across mine. “This isn’t just about protection. I want to take care of you in every way possible.”

“You already do.”

He pulls me close and squeezes my bottom while tugging my lower lip with his teeth. “Go get yourself ready. I’m taking you out today.”

“Where are we going?”

“Breakfast first, and then I’m giving you a proper tour of the city. Wear comfortable shoes.”

“Good. I can put my camera to use. It’s been collecting too much dust.”



* * *



We’re sitting at a booth table at the Royal McGregor looking at the menu. “What will you be having?”

My options are limited, as always. I’m not a huge fan of Scottish cuisine. “I think I’ll go with the French toast.”

He peers over his menu at me. “I brought you out today to show you authentic Edinburgh and you’re going to start the day with French toast and Canadian maple syrup? I don’t think I have to tell you that’s not the least bit Scottish. You should be having the traditional breakfast.”

I look at what it includes. “Your sausage isn’t like what I eat at home. It’s … ugh. And your bacon isn’t bacon. It’s ham from a weird part of the pig. And you can forget me touching black pudding or haggis. I’m not eating anything that includes blood or intestines. I don’t do that at home and I’m not doing it here. French toast and coffee are safe, so that’s what I’m going with.”

He places his menu on the table. “You can try mine.”

He’s wrong if he thinks I’ll be budging an inch. “Oh … no, sir. That won’t be happening.”

He smirks, appearing confident he’ll have his way. “We’ll see.”

We’re halfway through our meal when he makes his first offer of haggis. I don’t as much as glance in his direction. “Try it. You’ll love it.”

“No, thank you.”

“Come on, Bonny.”

“I said no.” He places a small portion on my plate and my stomach immediately churns. “Get that off my plate. It’s going to make me sick.”

He smirks at me. “You’re being childish.”

The churning is worsening. “This isn’t taking care of me.” I bring my napkin to my mouth hoping the nausea will pass.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I point in the general direction of my plate. “That! It’s grossing me out.” I toss my napkin over my plate because now I have an aversion to everything on it. “Excuse me.”