Sinclair (Bad Boys of WildeSide Book 2)

  Sinclair

  Laylah Roberts

  Copyright

  Laylah Roberts

  Sinclair.

  © 2017, Laylah Roberts

  Laylah.roberts@gmail.com

  laylahroberts.com

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  This story contains explicit sex scenes and is R18.

  Cover Design: Florette Cover Design

  Editor: Eve Arroyo

  Chapter One

  Darcy

  I couldn’t believe my best friend was getting married. Cassie looked stunning in her simple, white dress, her dark hair flowing down her back in large curls as she stood under the pretty, white archway with pink roses weaving their way up the sides.

  The setting was far more romantic than I thought Wilde would be comfortable with, but this just showed how far he’d go to ensure she was happy.

  Cassie practically glowed with happiness. Wilde looked the same as he always did—stern, forbidding, and kind of scary. But then a ghost of a smile whispered over his face, and he winked at Cassie.

  Cassie smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she gazed up at Wilde. It was sweet and beautiful, and I would have appreciated it more if I hadn’t really, really needed to puke.

  Placing my hand over my stomach, I took quick, shallow breaths to avoid vomiting all over my Louis Vuitton shoes. A gift from my mother.

  Guilt shoes.

  My stomach rolled as I swallowed rapidly. Please, don’t let this be a long ceremony.

  Don’t throw up. Please don’t throw up.

  Frantic, I searched for something to distract myself as I felt beads of sweat gather on my forehead. I moved my gaze away from Wilde to the man standing behind him. Alec Sinclair. My nausea faded slightly as I studied him. I didn’t know his exact age, but he looked to be anywhere from mid thirties to early forties. His dark hair wasn’t peppered with gray, and the lines on his face only added to his appeal. One of those men who was only going to look better with age, he was refined, sexy, and dangerous as hell. It was that last part that gave me pause. I might be attracted to him, but he was like chocolate to a diabetic. Delightful, delicious, and really, really not a good idea. I couldn’t let myself forget who he was—the crime boss of Boston, leader of the Irish Mafia, and the most lethal man in the city.

  Still, that didn’t mean I couldn’t look, right? I moved my gaze up Sinclair’s body, as I unabashedly gave him the once-over. Wow, could he fill out a suit. There was just something about a man in a suit that made my insides quiver.

  My gaze went higher, over his flat stomach, wide shoulders, and up until it slammed into his brown eyes.

  Oh shit.

  My mouth went dry. Around me, noise faded until just the fast beating of my heart filled my ears.

  Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

  He raised one eyebrow in that—God help me—perfect face, and my cheeks grew hot. I didn’t know whether to look away, smile and pretend I hadn’t just been checking him out, or wink and brazen it out.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

  My head spun back to the Justice of the Peace marrying Wilde and Cassie so fast my neck protested. I plastered a smile on my face and clapped as the small number of guests cheered. Wilde, looking supremely satisfied, drew Cassie in for a kiss so hot I actually had to look away for a moment. Jealousy filled me. Why couldn’t I find a man like Wilde? Someone who’d look at me the way he looked at Cassie. Hungry. Possessive. As if he couldn’t live without her.

  Instead, the only male interest I seemed to attract was from losers. I pushed that thought from my mind as I smiled and hugged Cassie. I moved to Wilde, hesitating for a moment. Oh, hell, I only lived once. I threw my arms around his hard body. He stood stiffly, and I let him go.

  “Congratulations,” I told him, a little embarrassed by my exuberance.

  He stared down at me. Why couldn’t I have just shaken his hand?

  His lip quirked up in one corner. “Thank you. And thank you for being there for Cassie. We both appreciate it.”

  “Oh, well, you’re welcome,” I told him, surprised. “She’s my best friend, and I love her. I’d do anything for her.”

  “Yes. I feel the same.”

  “I’d best leave you to greet the rest of your guests,” I told him, taking a step back.

  He sighed rather loudly. A disgruntled look crossed his face. “Yes, I suppose I have to. How long do these things normally last?”

  “What? Wedding receptions?”

  “Yes. This is the first I’ve attended.”

  My jaw dropped. “This is the first wedding you’ve been to?”

  “I’ve been invited to a few, but I’ve never attended one. What are we talking about here? An hour? Two?”

  I daringly patted his arm. “If this wasn’t your house, I’d tell you to sneak out the back with Cassie and take off. But, you’re in for the long haul. Think more like eight hours.”

  He frowned. “Oh, they’ll be gone before then.”

  I was certain they would.

  I was glad Cassie and Wilde had finally worked things out. If anyone deserved to be happy, she did. She hadn’t had the easiest life before Wilde moved her and her mother off the streets and in with him.

  A few months ago, we’d snuck into his club, WildeSide. It was by far the craziest thing I’d ever done. I’d gone along out of curiosity and to support Cassie. And because I knew if my parents ever found out, they’d be horrified.

  Yes, I might be twenty-two, but when it came to my parents, that inner seven-year-old who’d spent her birthday alone with just her nanny and teddy bears while her parents partied on the French Riviera still made an appearance now and then.

  But at WildeSide I’d found I had an uninhibited side. Everyone there had been so free; they hadn’t cared about superficial things like looks and money. They were just there for pleasure.

  Wouldn’t it be nice not to worry about anything except having fun?

  I walked away, leaving the other guests to bravely greet the beast in his lair. I moved as quickly as I could towards the house. The heat combined with standing for so long was taking its toll.

  “Darcy.” I came to a sudden stop, my whole body quivering. His voice reminded me of the whiskey my father indulged in each evening. Smooth and silky. Just a few sips were enough. Overindulge and I knew I’d pay the price. I turned to find him standing behind me, a bottle of water in one hand and flute of champagne in the other.

  “Mr. Sinclair.”

  “I thought I told you to call me Sinclair or Alec.”

  Yep, no way was I calling him Alec. That felt way too intimate.

  He held up the water and champagne. “You looked a little flushed. I thought you might like a drink.”

  I blinked, taken aback. That was nice. Even though he’d never been anything but friendly and polite to me, I always half-expected him to be a jerk. He was a mafia boss. Shouldn’t he be rough and crude? Maybe a little mean? “Um, thanks. I’ll take the water.”

  He held out the bottle. My fingers brushed against his, and I drew the bottle away quickly, shocked by the small buzz that worked its way across my skin. With fingers that trembled, I attempted to undo the cap on the bottle.

  “Damn it, why do they make these things so impossible to get into?” I fumbled, nearly dropping the whole thing.

  “Here. Allow me.” He reached out, grasped hold of the bottle, and twisted the top off.

  “I must have loosened it,” I mumbled, taking it back, and gulping some down. The cool liquid felt blissful against my dry throat.

  “Of course,” he replied gallantly then held out the flute of bubbly. I looked at those little bubbles with more longing that I should have. A few drinks would make this conversation so much easier.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Not much of a drinker?”

  Um. “Not today. Maid of honor duties,” I lied. “But you go ahead.”

  “Not really my drink. I think I’ll look for a beer. Try to keep my manly image intact.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” I replied, then blushed a little. Was I flirting with him? Had I gone insane? He was like a cobra, coiled and ready to strike. I was more of a cocker-spaniel, chasing my tail and barking at my own reflection in the mirror.

  “I have to go.” Suddenly the water wasn’t such a good idea. My stomach clenched then unclenched, and sweat beaded on my upper lip as I took shallow breaths.

  “Darcy, I—”

  I spun on my heels and ran towards the house. I flicked my shoes off, uncaring where they landed as I moved as quickly as I dared down the hallway.

  Toilet. Toilet. Toilet.

  I raced into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me, and locking it quickly before I threw myself at the commode, falling to my knees. Horrible retching noises filled the bathroom.

  Please don’t let there be anyone outside waiting to get in.

  Finally, I slumped down on the floor, resting my back against the wall. I leaned my head down, taking small, even breaths. Why me? Why?

&nb
sp; A knock on the door startled me, and I groaned quietly. Shit.

  “Be out in a minute,” I called out, forcing myself to my knees. Using the bathroom cabinet for support, I hauled myself to my feet. I leaned against the counter, my legs wobbling.

  “Darcy? Are you okay? Let me in.”

  I stared at myself in the mirror, horrified by the pale, drawn woman looking back at me. That wasn’t me. This wasn’t my life. It couldn’t be. My mascara was running, my hair was a mess, and I knew my breath was probably bad enough to knock an elephant out. And outside that door, the sexiest man I’d ever met had just heard me vomiting.

  Oh, lucky, lucky me.

  “Darcy?”

  I turned the water on and splashed it on my face. Come on, Darcy. Get it together. I took one breath then another. But I didn’t move towards the door. I couldn’t. If I had to hide in here until the end of the wedding reception, I would.

  Anything would be better than having to face Sinclair right now.

  “Darcy, if you can hear me, stand back from the door.”

  Huh? Why would I need to stand back from the door? Something thumped against the door heavily then it slammed backward, hitting the wall with a crunch. Sinclair stood there, staring down at me, his dark hair rumpled, his breath coming fast.

  I stared from him to the door, dumbfounded. “You broke the door.”

  “You wouldn’t answer me. Are you okay?” He stepped forward and grasped my shoulders gently. Immediately, my body heated, my heart racing.

  “Wilde is going to be pissed.”

  “Language,” he scolded.

  I frowned. “What?”

  “You’re too sweet and innocent to swear.”

  Sweet and innocent? I laughed, but, even to my ears, it sounded harsh and humorless. “I’m neither of those things.” Maybe once. But no longer.

  He studied me. “You’re too pale. You need to sit down.”

  I shook my head. “I’m fine. You didn’t need to break down the door. I was coming to open it.”

  Liar. Finding a place to hide away still sounded like a pretty good idea.

  “I’ll, um, give you some privacy.” I walked towards the door. Keep moving. Just put one foot in front of the other.

  “Where are you going?” He moved around to stand between me and the doorway. Crap, there went my dignified exit.

  “I’m letting you use the bathroom. I figured you were desperate.” I gestured at the door.

  “You know that’s not why I broke in. You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong.”

  “What makes you think anything’s wrong?” When in doubt, bluff, bluff, bluff.

  He narrowed his gaze, and the stern look on his face sent a shiver up my spine. Jesus, what was wrong with me? Even his strict face was sexy.

  “I heard you throwing up. Are you ill? Do you think it was something you ate? Do you need a doctor?”

  Oh, God, and now he was being sweet. Was he trying to make me cry? Because I was really, really close.

  “I’m not sick. I don’t need a doctor.”

  “You’re pale, sweating, and vomiting. You’re also trembling so badly I’m worried you’re going to fall over.”

  So I looked like complete crap. Wonderful. What every woman wanted to hear from her secret crush.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Did you go out drinking last night?”

  I frowned. Drinking, what would that . . . oh, he thought I was hungover?

  I placed my hands on my hips, indignation filling me. “Do you really think I’d attend my best friend’s wedding with a hangover?” Didn’t think much of me, did he?

  I pushed the hurt aside. We didn’t really know each other. It wasn’t his fault he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. I tucked my hair behind my ears, my legs trembling so much that if I hadn’t wanted to get out of there so badly, I’d have gladly sat.

  “I know your exams are finished. I thought perhaps you were celebrating.”

  Yep, I would soon have my shiny undergrad diploma. I’d studied pre-law, and been accepted into Columbia Law School. I’d had my future all mapped out. Now it seemed to be unraveling before me.

  “I need to get back to Cassie.”

  “You need to go home to bed,” he replied. Even as sick as I was, and knowing he didn’t mean it that way, those words still had the power to make my body heat with desire.

  “I’m fine,” I protested weakly, my mind filling with images of me in bed, with Sinclair next to me. Naked. What the hell would I do with a naked Sinclair? Was I out of my ever-lovin’ mind? I couldn’t handle a clothed Sinclair. I’d probably faint dead away if he even took his shirt off.

  “No, you’re not.” He placed his hand on my forehead. “You’re too hot. I’m taking you home and putting you to bed.”

  He needed to stop saying that because I really wanted him to put me to bed. But not to sleep.

  “I can’t just leave. I’m the maid of honor.”

  “I’ll explain to Cassie what’s going on. Wait here for me. I’ll contact my driver, talk to Cassie, and then I’ll be back to get you. Sit.” He put the toilet seat down, and I grimaced. I’d just puked, no doubt I smelled and looked terrible, and I was fantasizing about getting him naked. What was wrong with me?

  I sat with a sigh. “You don’t have to do that. I can get myself home.”

  “Wait. Here.” His voice didn’t invite argument. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Sinclair

  As I walked past them, I grabbed her shoes from where she’d thrown them off in her rush to get to the bathroom. Should I ignore her protests and have my doctor examine her? Probably a good idea. It was likely just a virus, but better to be safe than sorry as my mother would say. I couldn’t take chances with her health.

  Not when I had this feeling Darcy was going to play an important role in my life. The first time I saw her at WildeSide, wearing a sexy top that was so low-cut I wanted to rip it off her and cover her up at the same time, I’d known she was special. There was just something about her. That mischievous glint in her eyes. The way she embraced everything and everyone with equal enthusiasm.

  Her naiveté at the club had been plain to see. Her blue eyes had been round with surprise as she’d stared around like a kid given free run at a candy store. That wide-eyed innocence wasn’t something I’d witnessed in a long time. The women in my family were all sheltered from the harsher side of my life, but they’d been taught the world was a dangerous place and they knew they had to be wary of others.

  Darcy seemed to approach life head-on with a grin on her face and a hug for anyone who needed it. That worried me. She’d get easily burned if she kept sticking her hands so close to the fire. She needed a damn keeper.

  And I figured I was the man for the job.

  I knew she was a bit wary of me. I couldn’t blame her. My reputation preceded me. But she would come to know I was fiercely protective of those I cared about. I’d never hurt her, and I’d kill anyone who tried.

  She’d be mine. No matter how long it took me to convince her.

  I spotted Cassie and Wilde standing with Luke and his date by the bar. As I made my way towards them, Cassie laughed at something Luke said. Wilde glanced around at his guests with a scowl. Despite owning a club, he wasn’t exactly a social person. But he’d made the effort today for Cassie.

  “Here he comes. Thought you might be skipping out on your father of the bride slash best man speech,” Luke said in a low drawl.

  Guilt hit me. Shit.

  “Actually, I am. I’m afraid I have to leave.” I’d been thrilled when Cassie had asked me to walk her down the aisle. Not that I was old enough to be her father, but I did feel protective of her. Wilde hadn’t wanted a best man, so I’d doubled up for them.

  Luke shook his head. “Told you that you should have made me your best man, boss.”

  “I should have fired you months ago,” Wilde replied. “At least he has the decency to leave early.”

  “Wilde.” His new wife smacked his chest with her hand, looking horrified. “It’s five o’clock. We haven’t even finished the canapés yet. People aren’t supposed to leave now.”

  “He is.” Wilde pointed at me, and I smiled apologetically to Cassie.

  “Darcy isn’t feeling well. I’m going to take her home.”

  “All right. Thanks for coming.”