Page 162 of Sinful Desires
Her blue eyes had swept across my face before settling on the gold chain at my neck.
Her necklace. She hadn’t asked for it back.
Thank God.
“Come with me,” I said, my voice low, holding out my hand.
She exhaled, shaky and unsure. “Where?”
“I need to show you something.”
She folded her arms and bit the inside of her cheek, weighing whatever doubt was breaking behind her ribs.
“Théo, I?—”
“You wanted the truth about who I am. I’m going to give you what you need.”
My hands curled into fists. Acid coiled up my spine.
The thought of dragging my past into the light, of saying the things I’d buried deep enough to rot, made my skin burn.
But if she needed the truth, I’d tear myself open.
I’d bleed for her until there was nothing left.
Her arms dropped. Her hand twitched once, then found mine, knuckles first—like she didn’t know if she should, but did anyway.
“Lead the way, Mister LeRoy.”
She gasped when I opened the car door and helped her out. The wind curled around her, pulling her red hair into the air as she drew her cardigan tightly over her chest.
My eyes dropped to her legs, bare and already marked with goosebumps beneath the edge of her denim skirt.
I slammed the door shut and took her hand. My thumb grazed her knuckles, trying to calm the twitch in my own fingers as I led her down the dock where Captain Pascal waited under the bruised sky.
I’d called him an hour ago. Told him exactly what I needed.
He gave me a short nod and offered her a smile.
“Le soleil va bientôt se coucher, Monsieur LeRoy.Nous devrions partir maintenant.”
I nodded. “Let’s go.”
I helped her onto the narrow bridge, holding her steady as the wooden planks creaked underfoot.
“Whose yacht is it?” she asked, gripping the edge of the railing, hesitation tightening her voice as she placed one careful foot on the boat.
“Mine.”
She blinked, eyes narrowing just slightly. “You own a yacht?”
“And other things.”
I walked her across the deck, the silence between us heavy and tight. Every step dragged memories from the polished teak under our feet, old ghosts rising with the salt in the air.
This place hadn’t touched me in years, and now it pulsed under my skin.
I opened the tall glass doors and let her step inside.
