Page 39 of The Sinner's Touch

Dimitri laughed. “You know what they say, do as the Romans do. So, again, what’s up, brah?”

“You busy?”

“Nah. Babe, go find us some drinks. I’ll be back in a few.”

The image shook as Dimitri walked into what looked like his bedroom. The soft sounds of a radio played in the background. Booty call music, hisbabushkacalled it. Where an eighty-year-old woman heard that phrase, he did not want to know. It always cracked them up when she said it, though.

His brother’s face popped back up on the screen. Dimitri was the only Kincaid brother to look more like their mother than their father. He even had her white blond hair and sky blue eyes. The odd man out in photos. He used to tease Dimitri mercilessly about that, telling him he was adopted. Until D got old enough to beat Kade’s ass.

“You look like shit, motherfucker.”

“Good to see you too, D.” Kade rubbed his chin. It was a fair assessment. He probably did look like shit.

“What’s going on?” Dimitri sat, giving Kade a view of the headboard. “You don’t look good. Is it the case you’re working on?”

“I fucked up. Big time.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You remember that undercover case I worked in Miami?”

“Yeah.” Dimitri nodded, his eyes crinkling with concern. “You were fucked up when you got home. I’ve never seen you like that,brat, before or since. You refused to talk about it, even when I threated to beat it out of you.”

“I made a bad decision down there, and it’s fucked up everything since.” He leaned back against the couch, not caring that the plate of lasagna was sliding off his knee onto Nik’s pearly white fabric. “I don’t know what to do.”

“First, slow down and calm down. Tell me what happened.”

“I met a girl while I was there.”

“A girl?” Dimitri looked away from the phone. “No, I’m busy. I’ll be down when I’m done.”

“Real smooth, there. If Mama heard you talk to a girl like that…”

“She never will.” Dimitri grinned, reminding him so much of Nikoli. “Besides, she’s lucky I didn’t tell her to get the fuck out. She’s being clingy. I can’t stand a clingy woman.”

“You’re starting to sound like me and Nik. I thought we were the only two assholes in the family when it came to women.”

“I guess I’m just bored with women who see a pretty face and fat wallet and think ‘goldmine.’”

“They’re not all like that, you know.” Angel certainly wasn’t. Neither was Lily.

“I know. I just haven’t met one yet who looks past the face and expensive car and sees me.”

That wasn’t exactly true. There was one woman who they all agreed was perfect for Dimitri. The one he never really saw. If they pointed it out to him, then he might refuse to ever look her way, so they waited and hoped he’d get his head out of his ass and figure it out.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t flaunt said expensive car?”

“Fuck that. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am.”

Dimitri was an author. A romance author, much to his brothers’ astonishment and mock contempt. They loved to tease him about it, but even they couldn’t dispute the fact he did well. Kade never realized how much an author had to actually work. He’d assumed it was all sitting on your ass at the computer, typing. What really went into a writing career blew his mind when Dimitri had walked him through what he did on a daily basis.

“No lecturing tonight. Tell me what’s going on with you. What about this girl you met? You run into her or something, and she recognized you? You’re not in any danger, are you? I mean, that cartel still has a hard-on for you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m omniscient.” He preened until he realized it hadn’t impressed Kade. “I asked Viktor to keep an ear to the ground. Your name still gets mentioned in certain circles, so if this girl made you…”

“No, it’s not that.” Good to know he was still being hunted by Miami’s biggest drug cartel. His handler assured him there weren’t any feelers out. Kade checked in from time to time to becertain. Viktor apparently had better contacts than the cops did in Miami.

“Then what is it?” Dimitri regarded him curiously. “You’re starting to worry me.”

“I married her.”

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