Page 51 of Sweet Sin

“I can’t, Vannah.”

I wipe at my eyes. “Why not?”

“Because I swore I’d never tell. And I will not break that promise.”

I sniffle. “I understand.”

“Have you ever made a promise like that?”

“You have no idea. All those times I looked the other way on the parole thing.”

“Because you promised.”

I pause a moment, think. “Actually, not in so many words. It was just expected of me, my lot in life.”

“That’s what you wanted to escape by coming here.”

“Yeah. I really thought they’d let me go. I don’t know why I’m so important to Miles McAllister. He doesn’t need me. There are plenty of other women he could force himself on.”

Falcon grips my shoulder again, this time hard. “You’re not marrying Miles McAllister.”

“Damned right I’m not.”

“No, Vannah.” His grip tightens further. “You’re not marrying Miles McAllister…because you’re going to marry me.”

15

FALCON

Did those words just come out of my mouth?

It must be my hunger. Or the late hour. It’s after one a.m.

I don’t want to get married.

I’m completely fucked up.

I’m Falcon Bellamy again—not Savage—but there’s part of Savage in Falcon now. He’ll always be there, gripping at me, keeping me from being whole.

Her jaw drops.

“Falcon, I don’t think—”

“I’m not proposing, Savannah. I mean, I guess it sounded like I was, but you’re not marrying anyone you don’t want to marry. Certainly not Miles McAllister.”

She nods, her lips trembling.

“I’ve got a phone call to make. To my buddy—well, ex-buddy—the one I was supposed to join the Navy with before… Well, before everything.”

“All right, Falcon.”

I look at the time on my phone. “But it will have to wait until morning now. Let’s go to bed.”

The sun streams in through my window, and I stretch my arms. My stomach growls. Scrambled eggs don’t last long, and despite the shit that’s brewing, I’ve got to eat.

Savannah still sleeps, her face serene. She seems at peace, so I don’t want to disturb her. I rise, walk to the kitchen, shove a few pieces of bread into the toaster, and then type Leif Ramsey’s number into my cell phone.

Four rings, and then— “Yeah? This is Ramsey.”

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