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She relaxes.

“He had people investigating me. It wouldn’t be difficult to put the pieces together if he saw my payments to the medical facility where I bank my eggs from the retrieval I did a couple of years ago.”

“It doesn’t matter what or how he knows.” Unless he had us followed to the clinic in London. I’d better not find out that’s the case. “Our fertility issues are our business. Not The Fellowship’s and damn sure not his.”

Bleu pulls away and her eyes connect with mine. “I’m adding him to my list of suspects.”

She’s not thinking clearly. “What motive would Abram have for killing your mother?”

“I don’t know but I want to talk to Thane.”

That can’t happen. “That isn’t a good idea.”

“Why not?”

She has no idea what kind of shit she’ll be stirring. A war waging between two leaders of The Fellowship will only weaken the brotherhood. That makes us vulnerable to attack.

“You can’t go to my father and name his brother as a suspect for murdering the woman he loved. You need proof before you accuse a brother—especially a leader—of something like that.”

“I know it isn’t much to go on but that little girl who bumped into me … Abram called her toots. That’s the same name my mother’s killer called me.”

That’s no kind of proof. Bleu’s a former agent. I shouldn’t have to tell her this. “Toots is a common name to call a child. It doesn’t prove he’s a killer.”

“But a bite from a dog on his leg will. All I need is to see he doesn’t have a scar and he’ll be excluded. It’s easy as that.”

Abram is capable of a lot but in no way do I believe he’s guilty of Amanda Lawrence’s murder. Fingering him as her killer is a waste of time. And possibly detrimental to The Fellowship. There are huge problems brewing with The Order. We can’t afford a breakdown in leadership right now.

“Bonny. I understand the importance of finding your mother’s killer. You need closure and I desperately want that for you but you won’t find it in naming Abram.”

There’s so much she’s yet to learn. “You’re new to The Fellowship so you don’t understand what an enormous conflict like this between my father and his brother could cause.”

I understand Bleu’s thirst for revenge but her obsession has become a disease very much like the cancer that took her father. She’s spent most of her life chasing something I fear will destroy her in the end. I can’t—and won’t—allow this to eat away her heart. I love her too much to let that happen.

She needs a diversion—one wrapped in a pink or baby blue blanket.

* * *

Our reception lasts well into the night. It’s very late—or quite early, depending how you look at it—when Sterling takes us home.

I think Bleu has had more champagne than she should. And I’m certain I have. Tomorrow won’t be gentle on our heads so I pull our bedroom drapes together. We won’t get much light until later in the morning but I want the option of sleeping in without the sun giving any arguments about it.

I’m lying in bed when Bleu slips in next to me. She becomes still and releases a long sigh. “I love your mother to pieces but that was intense.”

I expected no less. I knew Mum would go overboard.

I’m not sure Bleu fully understands what our extravagant wedding celebration represents. “Mum and Dad are pleased about our union. They approve of you and this reception was their way of conveying those feelings to the brotherhood. Because my parents are happy about our marriage, they command our people to be as well. Nothing less will be tolerated.”

“I had no idea. I’ll need to find a way to thank your parents, particularly Isobel, for going to such extremes to ensure my acceptance.”

“You can cook for them sometime. That’ll be thanks enough. They’ll love your southern cuisine.”

“I can do that.”

We lie in bed, neither of us saying a word. The minutes tick by and I become increasingly nervous about broaching the subject of the IVF procedure.

I listen to her breathing for a moment to see if it’s slow and steady. It’s not. I whisper her name to gain her attention, but not wake her if she has fallen asleep.

“Mmm-hmm?”

Good. She’s still awake. “Can we talk about the IVF?”

“Sure.” The mattress dips as she moves.

I’ve practiced what I’d say in my head all day. “We must make a decision based on what’s best for us in the present since we don’t know what the future holds. The timing might not be ideal, but if we’re lucky enough for the IVF to work, I will never look at our child and wish we didn’t have him or her. And I don’t believe you will, either. However, if we don’t pursue it, we could spend the rest of our lives with regret. I’d like to do the embryo transfer now.”

“You sound very decided.”

“I am. I want our own child if there’s a possibility to make that happen.”

“I spoke to my sister today. She told me having a baby early was better than never. The word ‘never’ got stuck in my head and I thought about it all day. I was reminded that I’m not the only one in this marriage, so I have to consider what never having our own child means to you as well. I could only come to one conclusion. Early is a much better alternative to never. But that means if it’s successful, I’m going to need your help with my plan. I won’t be able to do it alone.”

“Bonny. Have you yet to figure out that baby or not, you were never going to carry this out alone?” Even if I’d not made the arrangement with her father, I wouldn’t let her go through with her plan. I never want her heart to carry the darkness that accompanies cold-blooded murder.

* * *

It’s Monday—first day back to work following our reception. I’m not certain I’m fully recovered from the hangover. I’m never getting drunk on champagne again. Yesterday was brutal.

I’m leaning over the sink trimming my facial hair when Bleu comes into the bathroom, yawning and sleepy-eyed. The lass is definitely no morning person.

“I’m sorry. Did the buzz of my shaver wake you?”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m up because I’m going to work with you.”

This is news to me. “Why?”

“Isobel wants me to become familiar with Breckenridge Incorporated. She says it’s important for me to understand how it functions.”

Mum is right. Bleu needs to have an understanding of how we run things so she’s prepared when Mum’s role is passed to her.

“Sterling will be here in forty minutes.” Lie. He won’t actually be here for another hour but I know how she is and I don’t want her making me late.

“I’ll be ready when he arrives.”

Oddly, I like the idea of Bleu going to work with me. I miss her during the long hours I’m away so it’ll be nice to have her near.

“I wish I could give you the tour but I have court. I’ll need to use my morning preparing.”

“No problem. I can find one of the Fellowship women to show me around.”

“If not, I’ll find someone for you.”

My father approaches the building housing Breckenridge Incorporated as we near the entrance. He holds the door, surprise on his face. “What brings my beautiful daughter-in-law to the office so early this morning?”

“Isobel suggested I come down and have a look around, maybe become familiar with how things run.”

“Ahh … a very good idea. You could learn a lot from Isobel.”

“I already have and I’m certain there’s much more to come.”

 

; As much as my parents hate one another, even my father has to admit that my mum is his biggest supporter when it comes to leadership within The Fellowship. He may be the head but she is the neck. They were never fine examples to follow when it comes to marriage but leadership is an entirely different story. The two of them together could rule any kingdom.

We part ways with my father at the lift.

“How many floors does Breckenridge Incorporated occupy?” Bleu asks.

“Three through five are ours.”

“The offices on those levels are filled by BI?”

“Aye. We have a lot going on around here.”

“I’m beginning to see that.”

“I would think you’d already be privy to the business here after watching us for so long.”

“We had no idea it was this extensive.”

“Good. That means we’ve kept things on the down-low, which is exactly what we want.”

It’s early so we pass empty desks on the way to my office. “Welcome to the legal department.”

We go inside and Bleu immediately looks around. She isn’t interested in the cool gray walls, contemporary office furniture, or shelves of law books. Her eyes go straight for the leather sofa. “You have a couch in your office?”

“Aye, and I’ve spent quite a few nights on it.” But not a single one since we’ve been married. There’s been no need. I want to be at home in bed with my wife every night.

She narrows her eyes at me. “You better mean sleeping.”

“It was mostly tossing and turning. Being at the flat without you was miserable but the nights were even worse. I worked myself ragged trying to get you out of my head. I slept here so I didn’t have to go home to our empty bed.”

“That’s sort of sweet.”

I move to stand behind her and place my hands on her hips. I use them to drive her toward the couch until the front of her thighs are pressed against the arm. “You should know I have every intention of fucking you on this sofa. I think we should christen it right now.”

“At seven in the morning when your assistants could come into work at any minute?”

“Linsey is always the first one here but she never arrives before a quarter after—just like clockwork. That gives us fifteen minutes.”


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