Sinclair (Bad Boys of WildeSide Book 2) Read online

  “Wilde!” Cassie gave him a quelling look.

  “What? I said thank you for coming.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “You’re shocking.” She turned to me with a look of concern on her face. “Is she okay?”

  “Oh, right. Yes. Is Darcy all right?” Wilde asked.

  “Boss man doesn’t have a lot of empathy for others,” Luke told his date as he gestured to the bartender to refill her glass. Tall and painfully thin, she’d disappear if she turned sideways. Luke always did like them skinny and superficial. With a bored look on her face, she took another sip of bubbly and wandered away a few steps.

  “That’s not true,” Wilde said. “I feel a lot of empathy right now.”

  “Yeah? For Darcy?” Luke asked.

  “No, for your date. She’s going to need a lot more alcohol to put up with you all night.”

  Luke rolled his eyes and walked over to his date, guiding her away.

  Cassie set her glass of champagne on the bar. “Where is she? I’ll go check on her.”

  “She’s fine; it’s just a tummy bug or something. But I think it’s best I take her home. She’s concerned she’s letting you down.”

  “Of course she’s not,” Cassie said loyally. Wilde had chosen well. They’d hit a rocky patch at one stage, but with a bit of help, they’d managed to find each other again. Cassie lightened Wilde’s darker personality with her sweetness. She also wouldn’t take too much of his bullshit. “I’ll go talk to her. I should take her home.”

  “No.” Wilde placed his arm around her waist. “You can’t leave.”

  She patted Wilde’s hand. “You’ll be okay.”

  “If you leave then so do all of them.” He waved his hand around at the guests. “I’m not putting up with them without you.”

  “They’re our friends, Wilde. You don’t put up with them; you enjoy spending time with them.”

  Wilde grumbled under his breath. Sinclair took pity on him. “It’s all right, Cassie. I’ll be fine taking Darcy home. If Wilde doesn’t mind me backing out on my best man duties.”

  “Go. Go.” Wilde waved his hand.

  Cassie bit her lip. “Are you sure? I still think I should check on her.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll look after her as well as Wilde does you. I promise.”

  Chapter Two

  Darcy

  “Come on, come on,” I muttered to myself. Where was that damn taxi? I was starting to feel ill again, and I desperately wanted to sit down, but there was nowhere but the pavement. Despite this being a nice area of town, I really didn’t want to sit on the ground in my satin dress.

  But if the taxi didn’t hurry up, I wasn’t going to have much choice. I desperately wished I’d thought to grab a bottle of water. And my shoes. The pavement was hot under my feet, and I had to keep shuffling around.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  I screeched and jumped as the deep voice spoke behind me. Black spot danced through my vision, and I swayed. Warm hands grasped my upper arms, steadying me.

  “I’m okay,” I muttered as my body flushed hot then cold.

  “No, I don’t think so.” He swung me up into his arms, holding me against his chest. “You’re sick, and you have no business wandering around by yourself.”

  Should I tell him the truth? Yeah, probably. But it felt so nice having someone take care of me I found myself keeping quiet. At least for a little while longer.

  “I thought I told you to wait for me.”

  Yeah, but I figured I’d already been humiliated enough for one day. I barely knew the guy but was pretty certain he was just trying to be nice. Although, that wasn’t exactly an attribute I thought a mafia boss would have.

  “I ordered a taxi. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

  “My night isn’t ruined.”

  “Right, so you’re saying you’d prefer to listen to me vomit rather than drinking and celebrating your friend’s wedding.”

  “Yes,” he replied simply, pausing beside a Bentley. An older man opened the door, and Sinclair placed me on the cool, leather seat before walking around and entering on the other side of the car.

  I knew he was lying, but I still felt a little relieved I didn’t have to wait around for a taxi. Plus, the fare would have eaten into my dwindling funds. My parents had left me money before leaving for Europe, but it was almost all gone. I would need to ask them for more, something I detested doing.

  Sinclair gave my address to the silver-haired man then raised the privacy partition. How did he know where I lived? Should I be creeped out by that? I shot him a suspicious look.

  “I asked Cassie for your address. If you’d managed to get home by yourself, I’d have followed you.”

  “Oh, yeah, and then what would you have done?”

  Damn, where was this flirty side coming from? I never flirted.

  “I’d have given you a scolding and put you to bed.”

  Oh. That was a bit of a disappointment.

  “Were Wilde and Cassie upset?” I bit my lower lip. Some maid of honor I was.

  “Wilde nearly did a happy dance when I said I was leaving. I don’t think he was too upset.”

  “He didn’t!” Except I could imagine Wilde doing just that.

  Sinclair winked at me, and I smiled back. Funny, I’d never thought he would have much of a sense of humor. He always seemed so serious and intense.

  “Cassie wanted to come and check on you, but I managed to convince her I’d take care of you.” He opened the small fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. “I retrieved your shoes, by the way. They’re up front with Frederick. I didn’t think you’d want to leave expensive shoes like those behind.”

  I shrugged. I couldn’t care less about the shoes. They were a graduation gift from my parents. Frankly, I was shocked they’d remembered. Of course, the shoes had included a note about why they couldn’t attend graduation in person. They hadn’t even bothered to call and explain.

  I glanced over to find him, frowning slightly. Oh shit, did he think I was a spoiled rich girl?

  “Thank you,” I told him. “My mother sent them over for me.”

  “She’s overseas?”

  “Yes, she and Dad have been in Europe for a while now. They have friends over there.”

  “Have some more water; you still look pale to me.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled at him. “You didn’t need to go to all this effort for me.”

  “No effort at all. Although it would have been easier if you’d stayed where I left you.”

  I raised my eyebrows at the arrogant words. “Do people usually stay where you tell them to?”

  “Yes, they do.”

  Oh.

  I was quiet until we reached my house then gave the security code for the gate to the driver. We pulled up outside the large, white house. I stared at it, dreading having to go inside.

  I hated living here by myself. It was big and cold, and I was kind of lonely.

  Sinclair climbed out, and I reached over to my door, opening it. It was pulled from my hand, and Sinclair stood there, frowning down at me. “You need to wait for me to open your door.”

  I do?

  “Don’t the men you date do this for you?” he asked, looking almost horrified.

  I didn’t want to tell him I didn’t really date. I’d only slept with one man, and that had been an absolute disaster. Nick was a childhood friend. His parents and mine had been friends until they’d had a falling out. I hadn’t seen him much until six weeks ago at a friend’s party. I hadn’t intended to go, but I’d been feeling sorry for myself. My parents had just informed me they couldn’t come to graduation and weren’t sure they would return home at all.

  Sinclair placed his arm around my waist, and I leaned into him. Just a little.

  “Where’s your bedroom?”

  “Oh, ah, upstairs.” What the hell was I doing? Had I really just let Sinclair into my house?

  “Do you need me to carry you up?”
he asked.

  Yes, please. “Oh no, I’ll be fine.”

  He kept close as we walked up the stairs. My heart beat faster as we grew closer to my bedroom. Sinclair was coming into my bedroom. My mind raced. Had I left my clothes and underwear all over the floor? Oh, God, probably. I was a bit of a slob.

  “I’ve called my doctor. He’ll be here soon.”

  What?

  “I don’t need to see a doctor.”

  He frowned slightly. “You’re pale, trembling, and vomiting. I want the doctor to check you over. Go in, put on something comfortable. Frederick is going out to get some supplies. I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

  A cup of tea? The mafia boss of Boston was making me a cup of tea? This all felt so surreal. I had to be dreaming. I ran my hand over my face. “Sinclair, I should have told you this before . . . I really don’t need the doctor.”

  Nausea bubbled again. Shit. Worst. Possible. Timing.

  I put my hand over my stomach. Shallow breaths. Ignore it.

  “No arguments. He’s coming.”

  “No, I mean, you don’t understand. I already know what’s wrong.”

  I will not puke. I will not.

  “What do you mean? Are you ill? Is it serious?” The concern on his face piled on the guilt. Oh shit, now he thought I had cancer or something.

  “No, I mean, not really. Oh, God. I’m pregnant.”

  As soon as I said the words, I leaned over and vomited. Right on his shoes.

  Perfect.

  Sinclair

  I sat in the living room and stared over at her, lost for words for once. She looked up at me, her bright blue eyes wide. She quickly glanced away. Her skin was still too pale, and there were dark patches under her eyes as though she hadn’t been sleeping well. Her white-blonde hair was twisted up with small wisps framing her thin face. Even ill and obviously tired, she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

  “I’m so sorry. Really. I’ll replace your shoes.” She took a sip of the ice-cold glass of water I’d grabbed for her, over her protests. The living room had French doors leading out to the swimming pool beyond. The décor was modern but stark. A lot of white, and it didn’t really seem to suit Darcy’s happy personality.

  Although, I was starting to realize that perhaps I didn’t know Darcy all that well.

  “I don’t care about the shoes,” I said in a gruff voice. How could I care about shoes when she’d just dropped that bombshell?

  “Well, I’ll at least clean them,” she said, glancing away from me and hunching her shoulders.

  You’re being too harsh. I took a deep breath in and attempted to push away my disappointment. I had no business being disappointed or angry. We weren’t dating. We weren’t even really friends. She had no idea of my feelings towards her, so I had no reason to feel a sense of betrayal.

  “I know it’s none of my business, but where is the father? Why wasn’t he at the wedding today?”

  Why wasn’t he taking care of her? If she were mine, I’d look after her. Insist she rest and take care.

  She kept her gaze on her clenched hands. I hated seeing her looking so defeated when she was normally so upbeat. Leaning forward, I took her hands in mine and squeezed them lightly. “Darcy, I’m not angry with you. I don’t care about the shoes. They’re just shoes. I can go to the store and buy some more. And, no, you won’t be cleaning them.”

  As if I would allow that. What sort of man did she think I was?

  The stressed look on her face eased.

  “The father’s not in the picture.”

  “He doesn’t want the child? You’re not dating?”

  “No. He’s a childhood friend. I saw him a few weeks ago at a party, and we, well, slept together. I haven’t seen him since.”

  “So he doesn’t know about the baby?” I frowned. She should tell him about the child. He had a right to know. A right to be a father.

  “No. I don’t even know how to get ahold of him. I have no idea where he is.”

  “But you do want to tell him?” So she wasn’t deliberately keeping the information from the father. The knot in my stomach unclenched.

  “I suppose so.”

  “He’s not a good person?” I asked. “Did he hurt you? Force you?” I’d kill him.

  “No, no, nothing like that. He’s a great guy, really. We’ve known each other for years. I definitely want him to know about the baby.”

  Darcy

  I cringed. I didn’t even know where the father of my baby was. I was pregnant from a one-night stand, and now I’d just lied about what a wonderful man he was.

  I’d known him as a kid, but I had no idea what sort of man he was. Except I couldn’t tell Sinclair that. I didn’t want him to think badly of me. I didn’t want him to know I’d gone to that party because I’d been angry and lonely.

  Tears welled, and I blinked rapidly, tilting my face up in an effort to keep them from rolling down my cheeks. It didn’t work. “I swear, I’m not normally like that. I don’t even know what happened.”

  It wasn’t as though I’d had that much alcohol. Could someone have slipped something into my drink? My memory of the night was kind of hazy. But I couldn’t remember putting my drink down.

  As if I wasn’t ashamed enough, now I was confessing my pitiful choices to Sinclair of all people.

  A man who was so together. So confident.

  “Bet you never make stupid mistakes,” I muttered. “You’re so damn perfect.”

  His lips twitched as he wiped my tears away. “Not so perfect, no. And language.”

  Oh, right. For a minute there I’d forgotten who he was. He went against everything I believed in—law and order and following the rules—and yet when I looked at Sinclair, I didn’t see a criminal or someone who was bad or evil. I just saw a man.

  A man who’d broken down a door because he was worried about me. Who’d brought me home because I was ill. Who hadn’t even blinked when I puked all over his leather shoes.

  “I’m really sorry about your shoes,” I said again.

  His eyebrows lowered, and I swallowed heavily at the stern look. Shoot, what was wrong with me? Why did that look make my heart race?

  “Stop apologizing about my shoes. You mention them again, I’ll have to take drastic measures.”

  “Like what?” I asked, curious.

  He leaned back. “Now that you’re not ready to hear.”

  I wanted to protest, but he’d settled further back in his seat, a closed look on his face.

  “I’m not normally such a mess. I’m used to being in control of everything. I’m organized, reliable. Boring.”

  His lips twitched. “Are you trying to apply for a job, sweetheart?”

  Sweetheart? That endearment filled me with warmth.

  “No. I just . . .” Didn’t want him to think I was some twit who got pregnant at a party and then cried about it.

  But then, wasn’t that pretty much what I was?

  I ran my hand over my midnight-blue dress. “I should get changed.”

  He nodded. “When will your parents return?”

  The million-dollar question. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll be home soon.” Or never. They were enjoying themselves too much at the moment.

  He frowned. “You’re here all alone?”

  “Oh, no,” I lied. “I have the housekeeper. This is her day off.”

  Sinclair ran his gaze over the dusty tables and dirty windows before turning that piercing gaze on me. He studied me closely, and I forced myself to meet his gaze. I don’t know why I lied; I just couldn’t stand him pitying me. I pitied myself enough for the both of us.

  Poor little rich girl.

  Jesus. I needed to get over it. I was twenty-two. I wasn’t a child who needed her parents to hold her hand.

  “I don’t like the idea of you staying here alone tonight. What if you’re sick again?”

  This last week, I’d been ill every day. I don’t know why they called it morning sickness when it co
ntinued all day long. The first few weeks of my pregnancy I hadn’t felt any different. I hadn’t even realized I was pregnant until I discovered my period was late.

  Was he offering to take me home with him? What would I say if he did? It wasn’t a good idea. This attraction I felt towards him was almost bordering on too intense. Too overwhelming. He wasn’t a man I should get involved with. If I went home with him, I wasn’t sure whether my body or my good sense would win. “I’ll be all right.”

  He tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Go get changed and pack a bag with a few days’ worth of clothes. You’re coming home with me.”

  “I can’t come home with you.” He wasn’t serious, surely. I mean, I hardly knew him.

  So why did I want to say yes so desperately?

  “Either you come with me, or I’m staying here. I’ll wait until your housekeeper comes back.”

  He’d be waiting a long time. The housekeeper had quit just before my parents left for Europe, unable to put up with their demands any longer. What should I do? Stay here in a lonely house, sick and miserable or go with Sinclair, a man as dangerous and forbidden as he was irresistible.

  “All right, I’ll go pack.” I had no willpower against him.

  He didn’t even answer, just reached for his phone and headed towards the double doors. Was that it? Sinclair had spoken, and I was meant to jump?

  He turned and gave me a small frown. Without thinking too much, I got up and walked to the steps. He soon joined me, guiding me up. I wanted to protest that I could climb the damn stairs without help, but he had his ear glued to his phone, canceling the doctor’s appointment.

  He walked me all the way to my room, waiting outside. With a sigh, I changed into shorts and a T-shirt, grabbed a small bag and stuffed some clothes in. I was on my knees, searching around for my favorite shirt I liked to sleep in when there was a knock on the door.

  “Be out in a minute,” I called out, spotting my shirt under the bed. Aha! I held it up triumphantly just as the door opened. I turned to see Sinclair. His gaze moved around the room, and I bit my lip, embarrassed by the mess.

  “Um, I’m ready.” I stood and grabbed my bag.

  He strode forward, took the bag from my hand and turned away without a word. I let out a deep breath and looked around my room, at the unmade bed, my clothes strewn everywhere—on the floor, the bed, the chair in the corner. Oh, Lord. I reached out and snatched a pair of red, lacy underwear off the lamp on the bedside table. How had they gotten there? How embarrassing.