Gentleman Sinner

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  I blink, trying to clear my vision, trying to focus on Theo. But something beyond his wide shoulders distracts me from the worry in his eyes, and I look past him to find a pair of hands closing in. But I can’t speak. My tongue is thick, refusing to engage and deliver the words of warning to Theo. The guard’s hands meet Theo’s shoulders, but before he gets a chance to yank him back, Theo’s moving of his own accord. And he’s moving fast. I only briefly catch the lethal look in his darkening eyes before he shoots to his feet and turns on the security guard. The startled man is on his back in a nanosecond, Theo’s deadly grip wrapped around his throat. I have nothing—no energy, no fight, no will—to try to stop him. I’m useless, yet I appreciate in this moment that my career has just disappeared before my very eyes, disappeared in a haze of rage and violence.

  “Theo, for fuck’s sake.” Callum once again puts his own life on the line to save another’s, seizing Theo and wrenching him away before quickly getting out of reach. “Calm the fuck down.”

  Theo’s wide, crazy eyes fall back onto me. They clear the moment he finds me. He dips and lifts me into his arms, and I do nothing to stop him. And I bury my face in his chest, not for comfort, but because I can’t face the carnage that’s been left in his wake. He takes a few long paces, his breathing labored, and comes to a stop, turning. I open my eyes and see Susan still tucked away in the corner, her face terrified. Guilt consumes me. I know he wouldn’t harm her. But she doesn’t.

  “If you won’t deal with this, then I will,” Theo vows, before carrying me out of the office.

  When I see the gathering of people outside—some staff, some patients—I resume hiding, sinking my face into Theo’s chest and letting the tears roll. I’ve secretly wished for this my entire life. A man who would protect me, fight off the bad, and make me feel safe.

  Now I have it.

  And I’m worried it might be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.

  Chapter 17

  I don’t recall much of the journey to Theo’s, my mind in too much disarray. But I felt his heart strumming wildly under me when he climbed into the car with me attached to his chest, and I felt it calm slowly as he massaged my head and dropped constant kisses in my hair. I felt the corners Callum took in the car, and I felt us ease to a stop—at lights, junctions, and roundabouts—until we had stopped for the last time. My phone ringing is what rouses me from my despondent state, my numb mind coming to life and reminding me that I should be at home with wine and my best friend. Not here dealing with the aftermath of Theo’s temper.

  “Jess,” I croak, forgetting myself for a moment and trying to break away from Theo’s chest to find my mobile. He hisses, stiffening, and I freeze as he growls in warning.

  “Fuck’s sake, Izzy,” he spits, his chest expanding on a deep, calming inhale. Right or wrong, this only angers me more.

  “Then let me go,” I snap as the door opens, courtesy of Jefferson.

  “Miss White.” He nods, standing back from the car to give Theo room to get out, his big arms holding me tightly against him, refusing to release me.

  “My phone.”

  “Callum has it.” Theo dismisses me, striding toward the house, and I look back over his shoulder, seeing Callum with my phone to his ear, following us. Only once we’re inside his mansion does Theo set me on my feet, his hands holding me in place to ensure my stability. “Okay?” he asks, looking me over.

  “Fine,” I say curtly, turning to Callum and ignoring the routine delivery of a tumbler filled with scotch in exchange for Theo’s jacket.

  Callum’s eyes fall to mine, my phone poised at his ear. “Would you like me to pick you up?” he asks, glancing away. I can only assume Jess’s answer is quick, because Callum soon says, “I’m on my way,” before hanging up and handing my phone to me. “Jess would like me to pick her up.” He’s straight-faced, giving nothing away.

  I take my phone. “I got that.” I turn back to Theo, who’s placing his empty glass on the tray. He made quick work of that drink. Good for him. I’m about to make quick work of him. “We need to talk.” I flash him a fierce stare. “Now.” I don’t want to sound cocky, but I’m pretty sure my big, strapping, formidable, hard-case boyfriend looks a little worried by the prospect.

  “Do you want a drink?” he asks, looking past me to his housemaid.

  “No.”

  “You need to eat,” he tries, indicating the dining room across the hall. “I’ll have the cook prepare you something.”

  “No, I want you in that office.” I point past him, my jaw tight. “Now.”

  He peeks out the corner of his eye to me, nibbling his bottom lip. I’m definitely not imagining it. He’s worried. Good. I hope he’s considering the damage he’s just caused.

  As Theo continues to assess just how much of a pissed-off female is before him, I glance around the hall, seeing Callum backing away, cautious, and Jefferson looking more stunned than a hooligan who’s just been hit with a Taser. Theo doesn’t take orders from anyone. People don’t talk to him like this. Well, I do. I return my attention to Theo and step forward. He doesn’t retreat. “Are we talking, or am I leaving?”

  He closes his eyes in defeat, lifting his hand for me to take. I ignore it and storm past him, entering his regal office and planting myself in a chair opposite his desk. Two seconds later the door closes, and a few seconds after that, a very cautious-looking Theo appears, rounding his desk as he unfastens his tie.

  I fight to regulate my breathing while I try to ignore the beauty of the man before me, his nervous temperament weirdly even more attractive than any of his other dispositions. He’s hesitant, twitchy, and his face is a picture of uncertainty. He looks vulnerable. It’s the most endearing thing I’ve ever seen.

  He lowers to his chair slowly and places his tie on the desk. “How much trouble am I in?” He gives me a nervous smile that I shoot down with one filthy look. “Yikes. A lot, huh?”

  “You’ve just dashed any hope I had of keeping my job.”

  He drops his gaze, hiding his ashamed face from me. It’s ridiculous, but his remorse offers me some relief in my turmoil. At least he appreciates the shitstorm he’s caused. At least he isn’t being a pigheaded idiot. “You’re being wronged. I can’t allow that,” he says feebly, vainly searching for a justification. “I spared Sugden the punishment he deserved—one I so wanted to give—because your happiness is important to me. Your job makes you happy.”

  “And then you wasted all that effort,” I say, because I appreciate it was a massive effort for Theo to hold back from annihilating Sugden. “You charged into my boss’s office and wreaked havoc.”

  He shoots forward in his chair, yet I remain in place, unperturbed by his fast move. “There was no havoc until the security guard touched me.”

  “You frightened Susan out of her skin.”

  “I was stating facts.”

  “You were shouting facts!” I yell, tossing a hand out and sending a pile of paperwork on his desk gusting into the air. It’s either that or smack him one, and we all know I can’t fucking do that. “It may have escaped your notice, big man,” I hiss, standing and planting my palms on the wood of his desk, leaning over until he’s forced to retreat in his chair, “but you’re a fucking huge beast and most people are pretty fucking wary of you. When you start ranting and raving like you did, you’re likely to scare them to death, Theo.”

  “He shouldn’t have touched me,” he murmurs, rolling his shoulders, like the sensation is still lingering. “I’m sorry.”

  His increasing sorrow cuts me deep. He doesn’t regret throwing his weight around. He only regrets upsetting me. But one thing I know for sure is that he can’t control himself if someone touches him when he’s unprepared. He acts on an instinct I am yet to understand, but I know it’s something he can’t stop. He needs therapy. Help.

  “You need to make me understand,” I say, my quiet words immediately winning back his attention. Granted, his actions could be considered gallant, b
ut it’s hard to see past the damaging repercussions when I don’t understand what makes this man tick.

  “I don’t like people touching me. What’s so hard to understand?”

  I shake my head with a sardonic laugh. I can see this conversation is going to get me nowhere, except a one-way ticket to Frustrationville. “I need a drink,” I declare, pivoting and walking away. He doesn’t come after me, probably because he knows damn well there’s no one to take me home, and no way on earth I’ll break free from his grounds without raising the alarms.

  I head for the Playground, making my way down the corridor, through the office, and past the last hallway before using the code Theo gave me and letting myself into the club. This time the space is less busy, probably due to the early hour. Penny is the only dancer. She clocks me, offering a small, discreet wave, but frowns when I give her an obviously forced smile. I land at the bar, order a chardonnay, and the barman smiles at me knowingly as he pours, before sliding it across the bar and telling me to enjoy.

  “I will,” I grumble, savoring the cool, sweet liquid as it trickles down my throat.

  “Tough day?” he asks as he polishes glasses and loads them onto the shelf. He’s short and cute, his red hair spiky, his freckles dark.

  “Putting it mildly.”

  He smiles and tosses his towel over his shoulder. “So, you’re Mr. Kane’s…” He fades off, putting some glasses in the washer. “Girlfriend?”

  I study him as I take more wine. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Troy.” He offers his hand across the bar, and I shake it. “Nice to meet you, Izzy.”

  I flash him a wry smile. “I see you already know my name.”

  He chuckles, pointing to my glass. “Top-up?” I nod, and he gets to it quickly. “Everyone knows your name. You’re the only person who dares go near him without the worry of having your head ripped off.” He shudders. “I’m sure you’ve seen him in action.”

  “Yes, he was just in action tonight at my place of work,” I mutter, holding up my glass to Troy in a sarcastic toast. “I’m pretty sure he’s just lost me my job.”

  “Oh, shit. It really has been a tough day.” His sympathetic eyes suddenly dart past me, and he’s gone in a shot, getting on with tidying the shelves of liquor. I look over my shoulder and see Theo standing on the other side of the club, watching. His hair is a mess, like he could have been raking his hand through it constantly, and his dark blue eyes are annoyed. I fully expect him to march over, but when another man approaches him, he yanks his eyes away from me and offers the guy his hand. It’s the same man Theo was talking to when I stumbled in here last night. I follow their path as they walk over to the roped-off area again and Theo motions Troy to him with a hard stare and a flick of his hand.

  “I’d better go,” Troy says, claiming a tray from the pile stacked at the end of the bar and heading over to Theo and his guest.

  “Yes,” I mutter, returning my attention to my wine. “Because only the unwise refuse Theo Kane.”

  An hour later, I’m still wallowing in my wine when Jess appears across the Playground. She looks amazed as she soaks up the atmosphere, Callum hovering behind her. A small smile curves his lips when he dips and whispers something in her ear, making her shudder, her eyes darting toward me at the bar. She gives me a pained face as she hurries over, yet why so pained is yet to be determined. Something tells me that it’s not my current state of affairs causing her aggrieved expression.

  She lands on a stool next to me and drops her head into her hands. “He picked me up. He physically picked me up and carried me across a huge fucking puddle, and I swear, on the Lord Almighty above, I had an orgasm right there in his arms.”

  Laughter rumbles up from my toes and bursts right out of my mouth. “You’re kidding?”

  “It’s not funny, Izzy. I was stiff as a board in his hold.”

  “Was he stiff?” I titter, my wine shaking as I bring it to my lips. She looks traumatized, and my laughter increases, my reflux threatening to send my wine everywhere except down my throat. I struggle to swallow, flagging Troy when he appears behind the bar. “You’d better get my friend a drink. She’s having a bit of a meltdown here.”

  “Please,” she squeaks, waggling a finger at the hard stuff on the top shelf. “Anything.”

  Troy joins in my amusement and pours her a neat whiskey. “Get that down you.”

  “Thanks.” She gulps it, gasps, and then throws herself around on the chair, clearing her throat. “What the hell is going on?”

  My eyes bug at her. “You recovered from your little moment rather quickly.”

  She scoffs and moves in closer. “I’m sorry. I just needed to get that out. Callum said you’re not talking to Theo.”

  “So you’ve had a conversation with him, then?”

  She shudders again. “I could listen to him talk forever.” Looking past me, I follow her eyes, seeing that Callum has joined Theo and the other man. “Such a hunk.”

  “But quiet,” I muse.

  “And moody,” Jess adds. “It’s so fucking sexy. And cold. But I still quite fancy him. It’s annoying.”

  I roll my eyes, just catching Theo looking up at me. He still appears troubled, his face tight with irritation as he nods mildly to the guy talking to him. It all looks very serious. Who is he? And what are they talking about?

  “So tell me.” Jess breaks into my thoughts, pulling me back around on my stool. “Rumors are rife.”

  “What rumors?”

  “At work. So far, you’re fired, Theo kicked the ever-loving crap out of the security guard, and there’s a warrant out for your arrest. Oh, and Susan was blindfolded and locked in a closet while Theo performed Chinese torture tactics to get her talking.”

  I gape at her. “What?”

  Jess shrugs. “You know everyone likes to add their own little bit to enhance the drama.”

  Fucking hell. As if the drama needs enhancing. “This is what happened,” I say, moving in, as does Jess. I spend the next half hour giving her a blow-by-blow account of everything, from the moment I arrived at Percy Sugden’s bed and first encountered his son, to a few hours ago, when Theo lost the plot in Susan’s office. “So suffice to say, I’m out of a job.”

  Jess looks bamboozled as I draw to a close, my wine freshly topped up again, courtesy of a very attentive Troy. I smile and raise my glass to him at the end of the bar. “Shit,” Jess says simply.

  “Yes,” I agree. “And now I’m waiting for the police to track me down and question me.”

  “So if Theo or Callum didn’t kick Sugden’s arse, how did he wind up with broken bones?”

  “Damned if I know. Maybe he upset someone else. I imagine it happens daily. He’s a total arsehole.”

  “Well,” she breathes, taking a casual swig of her drink as she gazes around the Playground. “I would say you could get a job here, but, you know, been there and done that.”

  I gape at her, and she winks, continuing to rain humor on my overall diabolical situation. I guess if I didn’t laugh, I might cry. “You’re fucking hilarious.” I smack her knee and she smiles a little, placing an upturned hand on the bar for me to take, which I do, squeezing. “Thanks for coming.”

  “No sweat.” She looks down at her work uniform. “Though I would have preferred not to be sporting the juices of various vaginas.”

  My nose wrinkles, clocking a few spots of faint blood on her front. “I’m sure Callum didn’t notice.”

  Jess peeks up with a grin. “He did, actually. And he asked a bunch of questions like he was really interested in my day. At least he sounded it.” She looks past me, pouting. “I can’t figure him out. I know I irritate him, but the man pushes my buttons. Part of me wants to take that gun he carries and hold it to his head, and the other half wants him to hold it to mine.”

  “While—”

  “He fucks my brain out.”

  “Jess!” I laugh, and she shrugs, nonchalant.

  “Oh, who’s
this? She looks important.”

  I crane my neck and see Theo’s mum wandering in from the main entrance, a stack of files under one arm and a gorgeous Chanel purse suspended from the other. The suit screams Chanel, too. The woman is the epitome of class. “That’s Judy. Theo’s mum.” She heads straight for the group of three men in the cordoned-off area and gives the unknown man with Theo and Callum a kiss on the cheek in greeting. The stranger accepts with a huge smile, reaching up to caress her face. The lightbulb goes off. “That must be her husband,” I say to myself, watching their exchange intently.

  “Theo’s dad?”

  “No, he died.” I observe as Judy gives Callum a kiss on the cheek, too, and then she holds her hand out to Theo, who drops his lips to the back in greeting. “Her second husband is a cop.”

  “You’re kidding?” Jess says. “Her son carries a gun and runs an illegal club, and her husband is a police officer? Makes perfect sense.”

  I hum my agreement, casually sipping my wine as I continue to watch the group talking. “I think he might be a bent copper.” It’s the only explanation.

  “I can see something I’d like to bend.”

  Callum looks up, like he could have heard Jess, and she quickly turns back to the bar, her face flaming. “Does he have superpowers?” she asks the marble counter. “Because every time I have a filthy thought about him, he looks at me. It freaks me out.”

  “Or maybe he’s on the same wavelength.”

  “Oh, Jesus. I know I’m all bold and brash, but I wouldn’t have a clue what to do with him if he was naked before me. Lick him, fuck him, or dribble on him.”

  “All?” I laugh, waving a hand at Troy, who tends to us quickly. “Thank you.”

  “You feeling any better?” he asks, indicating the bottle in his hand. It’s empty.

  “Much.”

  “Should I open a new one?”

  I look to Jess, who is quick to hold up her glass. “Why not,” she says. “I’m on a late shift tomorrow, and Izzy is unemployed. Let’s get shit-faced.”

  “Cheers.” I’m all for that.