Leanne Banks - For the Love of Sin

He cocked his head to one side and lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “Something is going on,” he mused. “Tell me and I’ll help.”

Her heart tugged. His hand was gentle, his gaze warm. She’d locked herself away from human kindness over the last few weeks and suddenly felt the loss. It would only take one step, and she would be in his arms.

In that second, she thought of her big, strong father and how he’d been unable to handle the truth. She took a giant step back, physically and emotionally. “It’s been three minutes.”

“I’m gonna find out,” he told her.

Sin shook her head and headed for the door. “You’re wasting your time.”

“I already know you’re not seeing any men, and Lord knows that’s out of character.”

She whipped around. “How do you know that?”

“Juan, but I would have found out anyway.” He twisted his lips in a cynical grin. “I’m the youngest of seven brothers, Sin. When you’re the youngest, you learn by watching, so I’m damn good at watching. And just so you’ll know, another characteristic about the youngest is that people underestimate you.” His gaze fell over her like a hot brand, then he looked into her eyes.

“Hasta la vista, baby.”

Troy didn’t like the accommodations.

His hotel room was the size of a closet, and if he turned over in his bed, he would land on the floor. No AC, no fan. To make matters worse, the walls were thin, and it sounded as if the guy next door had gotten very lucky tonight.

To distract himself from the explicit cries of his neighbors, he thought about Senada.

More convinced than ever that something strange was going on, he considered the possibilities. She could be sick, but it didn’t make sense that she would abandon her home and friends for that reason.

She could also be pregnant.

If the guy had dumped her, maybe she felt humiliated and didn’t want to face her friends. He frowned. The only catch was that he’d never heard of anyone dumping Senada. She went through men like tissues and always appeared to be the one to move on.

He remembered how soft her cheek had felt in his palm, and the appealing mix of fire and vulnerability in her eyes. For a minute there, she’d looked as if she wanted to trust him, as if she would share her secrets with him.

He swore, kicking off the sheet. This was going to take patience, and he’d never been patient. He deliberately closed his eyes, and the image of her stole past the barrier in his mind.

Her mouth was red and taunting, her eyes dark and sensual. His body heated. He swore again. His dear beloved brothers had sent him straight to hell.

Over the following nights, Senada tried to ignore Troy. It should have been easy. Most of her customers were male. Many watched her, but none with Troy’s unwavering intensity. He wasn’t the least bit sly about it, just propped himself on a stool at the bar, nodded his head in greeting, and watched.

She really didn’t need this, she thought, five days after he arrived. She’d fled to San Pedro with the intention of going to her father, but once she’d arrived, she chickened out.

If her father had been unable to handle her mother’s illness thirteen years earlier, how could he deal with Senada’s current crisis?

So, here she was, still shocked and afraid, and trying to adjust to a new and totally necessary lifestyle. She shook her head and checked the time. These days she was more conscious of the clock.

Juan sidled up to her. “This man from Tennessee. Troy. He comes every night. Is he bothering you?”

She flicked a glance at Troy and saw that he must have overheard. “Bothering me?” she repeated. Yes.

Another regular customer came up behind Juan. “Yeah, like stalking.”

Senada wrinkled her eyebrows. “I don’t know if I’d really call it stalking. It’s more—”

Juan waved his friend up to the bar. “If he’s bothering you, you should let us know and we’ll take care of him.”

Senada rolled her eyes. She could practically smell the machismo. “He’s not doing—”

“We can make him go away.”

She felt a stab of alarm. If this got out of hand, it could get messy, and Senada didn’t consider breaking up fights one of the perks of her new job. “You don’t need to do anything. He’ll be going away very soon,” she said, throwing a meaningful glance in Troy’s direction.

Troy shook his head. “I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”

Juan stiffened and pointed his finger at Troy. “What makes you think you have rights over Senada?”

Pausing, Troy gave a warning glance at Juan’s accusing finger. He took an unrushed swallow of beer and leaned back in his seat, clearly sure of his power. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve got rights with Senada.”

Then he looked at Senada, and she felt the impact of his take-no-prisoners gaze to her toes. “She left me at the altar.”

After being ignored for days, Troy felt a measure of satisfaction at seeing Senada stare at him in shock. “I may not be the only one she’s left at the altar,” he continued, elaborating on his fabrication, “but I think I deserve some answers. Wouldn’t you?” He shot Juan a challenging glance. “She told me that all those stories about her ex-husband having to be—”

“Ex-husband!” Senada repeated, apparently finding her voice.

“—rushed to the hospital on their wedding night were just rumors.”

“The hospital,” she sputtered. “You’re lying.” She looked at Troy as if he’d lost his mind.

“You’re crazy. You’re—”

Troy nodded. “That’s right. Crazy for you. You stood with me at the altar, then left me. I deserve a chance to win her back.” He nodded at the men. “Agreed?”

Juan looked uncertainly from Senada to Troy.

A waitress gave Senada a searching glance. “Why’d you dump him?”

“I didn’t! He’s lying. I never promised him anything. He’s crazy. He just wants…” She took a breath, running out of words.

“He just wants what, señorita? Or is it, señora?” Juan added meaningfully.

“Can you honestly say you didn’t stand beside me at the altar?” Troy demanded, recalling Lisa and Brick’s wedding, where Senada had been a bridesmaid.

She paused, her eyes narrowing. “No, but that wasn’t our—”

“There you have it, boys. From her very own mouth.”

Juan motioned his friends backward. “A man deserves to claim his woman.”

Senada slammed the pitcher of beer down on the counter. “His woman, my fanny.”

“Appreciate your understanding,” Troy interjected with a nod.

She glared at him with enough heat to melt iron, then seared him with a rush of Spanish words for which he could only guess the meaning.

She narrowed her eyes. “You know, up until this moment, you just annoyed me,” she told him as she rounded the counter. “I had decided you were pushy because you were misguided. And if you were a little thick upstairs, it was probably just genetic, since the rest of your brothers seemed to be the same way. When people annoy me, I ignore them.”

She leaned closer to him, and Troy was amazed at the quick leap of response in his body. “Now, I really don’t like you,” she whispered in a voice that shouldn’t have been but was outrageously seductive. Her eyes were nearly black with emotion, and Troy felt himself sinking.

He closed his own eyes, blinking at the odd sensations inside him. Before he knew it, cold beer gushed down his head. Senada put the empty pitcher on the counter. He swore. His hair was drenched, his shirt wet. “What in hell—” He swore again, jerking away and shaking his head.

Senada smiled. “That’s what I do to people I don’t like. Don’t mess with me, Pendleton. You are out of your league.”