Broken Saint by E.M. Gayle

4

Nova

After that mind-blowing orgasm, I should have passed out for the rest of the night, rather than the hour I actually got. Instead, I was laying here locked inside my restless mind.

My body was beyond spent, despite his cock never breaching my body. A fact I couldn't quite comprehend. How had he taken me to the heights of pleasure he did without getting himself there? If it had been the other way around, I would have been insane for more.

Other than the times he came to my bed, the night had become my enemy. Sleep had become more and more elusive, and it had nothing to do with the beautiful, hard man still lying next to me. The slow rise and fall of his chest and quiet, deep breathing indicated that he had slipped into a hard sleep. I envied that.

Lately, sleep had become almost impossible. In the dead of night, when much of the world rested from their insanely busy days, my mind wanted to stay locked in a battle with an impossible outcome.

As my expiration date loomed closer and closer, I had a lot of trouble with my normal routine. All of the hard-won good habits I'd developed since that last demented night in my father's house didn't seem to work the magic they once did.

And without sleep, my productivity, not to mention my creativity, had taken a hard right turn into no man's land. It was time to put my latest plan into action. Getting those diamonds before my father procured them felt like the only viable escape to this mess. And the clock was definitely ticking.

But first, I needed to tell him—I glanced at the other side of the bed—that I could no longer see him. An explosive confrontation would come soon, and I still had a lot to do before I was ready. My plan was far from perfect, and there were a lot of things that could still go wrong. I couldn't afford to split my focus any further.

Maybe when this was all over, and if I was still alive, we could...what? Resume our secret affair?

Gah.

The frustration over this entire situation was killing me. I threw back the covers, knowing full well I couldn't lie there and do nothing a second longer.

I silently slipped from the bed and padded quickly to the small in-suite kitchen. The temporary exile forced upon me by my father had not been the punishment he'd imagined. It had given me the freedom to pursue my passions. The shame he had tried to heap on me had become a security blanket of denial, despite my exile being nothing more than a stop gap of limited time before I had to fulfill my familial duty.

Reaching for my favorite teacup and a canister of simple, loose-leaf black tea, I began the comforting process of preparing my personal life blood that would carry me through another long day.

If nothing else, these simple routines had become my friends that kept me company at night, and if I failed to escape my father's grasp, my friends beyond this current life.

As I stood there, waiting for the tea to steep, I realized this would be a good time to check my emails. With the upcoming fashion show, I'd let many of my routines fall to the wayside or be delegated to an assistant. However, there was hope that going through one now might give my mind the comfort and calm it desperately needed. Until I realized my phone was still in the other room. Somewhere...

With him in my bed I'd forgotten all about it. That temporary reprieve from the electronic world was yet another benefit of this arrangement.

I scoffed at that thought. An arrangement? Really? There was nothing about this situation that fit neatly into any simple box like the word arrangement implied. The man was a force of nature who came and took what he wanted, gave what he wanted, and nothing more than that.

Granted, I wanted what he gave, so there were no complaints there, but still, my curiosity burned for more information.

Stepping into the living room, I spied my phone at the table where I vaguely remembered leaving it before I'd gone outside to wait for him. As I reached for my device, I spied a black suit jacket tossed across the back of one of the chairs. I reached for it, letting my fingers trail across the fabric.

Clothes could tell a lot about a person if you let them. A story per se about the man who wore them. His certainly did. Although the smooth and marginally soft fabric under my fingers reminded me of what little I knew about him. He had standards, rigid ones that gave him the control that he craved, but his clothing was not cut from expensive fabrics. Instead, he seemed to favor sturdy material that was more practical than luxurious.

He also favored an all-black suit with minimal extra details. No stripes or fabric embellishments to make him stand out. Every white shirt he wore with it looked the same as the one before and his ties were always black with no color variation whatsoever.

The man had black and white down to a T.

I'd never seen him in anything other than one of these, and he wore them more like a uniform than anything else. The only luxury he seemed to indulge in was the custom fit. He might have bought his suits off the rack, but he'd had each one custom tailored to fit his big body to perfection.

It wasn't a stretch to conclude he was not a wealthy man. If not the clothes, then the man himself made that a likely scenario. There was a presence about him that differed from most. I'd rarely met a wealthy man who didn't have a tell-tale sign or two that hinted at the money behind the man. Not every one had to flaunt it, but there were always subtle signs. To say I'd wondered about every detail about this man was a massive understatement.

It had been his words that had made this arrangement between us. I'd just gone along with them on a whim. I'd been alone and at my wit's end when it came to my latest design. I was desperate to shake things up. Initially his terms had sounded perfect. No commitment was an easy thing to agree to. My life was far too complicated for anything more than what this was—temporary.

The no names, however, had been as odd as it was exciting at first, but now— it threatened to drive me over the edge.

I smiled at that thought. Tonight, I might be the queen of understatement. As my fingers continued to roam across his jacket and my mind fantasized different scenarios that I should have shut down, but didn't, my hand hit a lump that blocked my path.

Oh God.

His wallet. I took a sudden step back despite the urge to do anything but. The compulsion to investigate slammed into me. One look. It was all I wanted. Just a name to put to the face and the body and the magic cock...

No.

I needed to walk away now. He'd made his wishes crystal clear, and I'd agreed to every one of them. To violate his privacy would be tantamount to a betrayal. I couldn't be that person. No way.

Still, I didn't return to the kitchen or move to get away at all. My brain screamed alternatively for me to run and stay at the same time.

Just a quick peek.

No.

It won't hurt.

That's a lie.

The war inside my mind raged on as my fingers slid underneath the fabric and fingered the slim leather case inside the breast pocket of his suit.

Just his name.

That was all I wanted. Even if I couldn't say it out loud, there was something about knowing more about the man who drove me insane I couldn't resist.

I pulled the wallet free and stared down at the well-used but slim black folio. Of course he kept it minimal. Just like everything else. The man was a puzzle and my curious mind could not stop trying to figure him out.

One quick look.

As I turned that wallet over and over in my hands and debated on whether I would actually look, I already knew. From the moment my fingers had felt that bulge I'd known. I was going to look. I had already broken my vow not to get attached. What was one more tiny transgression?

In the light of day, would knowing his identity make any difference to him? For me it might. Saying goodbye to a practical stranger sounded easy, until I realized that when it came to the memories I wanted to keep, his name meant everything.

I glanced through the open doorway into the bedroom to see him still exactly how I'd left him. Asleep on his side, facing away from me and toward the space I'd previously occupied.

While I couldn't see his face, I didn't need to. I had memorized it long ago. His usually harsh features softened in sleep making him look much younger than I'd previously suspected. My guess was thirty-ish. I'd also decided he probably had something to do with security at the hotel. That had originated from the suit and his continued presence in the hotel. Nothing else made sense.

I couldn't even remember how many times I'd almost asked Nina about him. If he worked for The Sinclair, then the wife of the hotel manager would either know who he was or could find out.

Again, that niggle of betrayal itched on the back of my neck. I hadn't wanted to risk his job. This wasn't the same. My finding out his name like this put no one at risk other than me. It was no big deal to have a name to the face I figured would haunt my dreams for years to come.

Just do it.

The hesitation was killing me. Since when had I gotten so damned indecisive? This was ridiculous.

As I was about to open it, my phone rang, shrill and loud from across the table and filled the room.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I shoved the wallet back into his jacket and dove for the phone, which showed my sister calling, and immediately silenced it.

I’d been expecting her call for days, and I was afraid if I didn’t answer she might not be able to call again. With a glance over my shoulder, I let out a breath of relief when I found him still sleeping.

I sprinted to the bathroom and pressed the screen to answer as I closed and locked the door.

"Hey, Car. What's up?" I whispered, hoping like hell that I wasn’t overheard.

"What’s up with you? I’ve been waiting to hear from you forever." My attention was piqued at the breathless tone of Carina's voice. Sometimes my younger sister could be so dramatic, but something told me this was serious.

"I’ve been busy getting ready for the show," I said cautiously, unclear as to whether I was going to tell her what she likely wanted to know.

"Those items we talked about last time," she whispered. "Did you get them?"

My stomach sank. She’d been the one to tell me where to find the diamonds. It made sense she wanted to know if I’d found them, but the less anyone else knew, the better.

"Yeah. I found them." Found sounded much better than stole and wouldn’t alert her to the fact I’d almost been caught. Either way, they were mine for now.

"Oh my God, really?” Her excited whispers made me smile. Every time I thought about that night, my pulse raced out of control. The adrenalin surge of stealing them right from underneath my father’s nose still burned through my veins.

“What are you going to do now? He’s flipping his shit over them going missing again.”

That fear twisting up my insides tightened like a vise. I wanted him to suffer, but the more unhinged he became, the harder it would be to negotiate with him. "I’m still figuring it out." I didn’t want to lie to her so I stuck to the barest truth to keep it straight.

"You need to hurry before he does something stupid.”

“It won’t be long, trust me. He’s going to make a move soon, and I’ll respond. Everything’s going to be fine.” I hated that word, but I was about to cross all my fingers and toes and raise about twelve hail Mary's to make it true. I had to make this work.

"I trust you. I’m just worried. Things are just—just—bad." I heard the stark fear in her voice and hated it. Living in that house wasn’t easy.

“Tell me what’s going on.” My siblings and I had kept in touch over the years, albeit on an irregular basis, but lately I'd heard from my sister more, and I had a feeling something was going on that she didn't want to tell me.

Months ago, when she'd offered to help me find something on our father, I'd known she feared him as much if not more than I did. She hadn't mentioned anything about an upcoming wedding, which made me wonder if she'd somehow avoided my father's quest to marry us off to the highest bidders as soon as humanly possible, but I wasn't going to question her loyalty. Not now. This was my last hope at retaining my freedom. Without her help, and those diamonds, I would not stand a chance against my father.

"Please, tell me," I repeated. If there was anything I could do, I would.

"What if this doesn't work?" she whispered again, making me nervous that someone could be listening to her side of the conversation. I needed to get her off the phone.

"It will. How about I call you tomorrow, and we schedule a time to get together? I haven't seen you in forever. You're still using that burner phone I gave you, right?"

She didn't answer right away, and that pit in my stomach tightened. There was definitely something going on with Car, and I'd have to get to the bottom of it the first chance I got.

"Of course, and I guess we can get together," she finally answered. I didn't like the bad feeling in my stomach, but I could only handle one thing at a time.

"Perfect. And hey, Car. Thanks again for helping me with this. It really means a lot to me."

"You're going to call me asap and let me know what happens when you talk to him, right?"

My muscles stiffened and I considered lying to her. "Probably not," I said, changing my mind immediately. She was working as hard as I was on this, and for that, she deserved my honesty.

But she was already in too deep. Getting her any further involved in my crimes wasn't going to happen. She was still living with our parents, I couldn't risk her anymore.

"Stop doing that," Cara said.

"Doing what?”

My sister wasn't a mind reader. There was no way she knew exactly what went on in my head.

"Laying that guilt trip on yourself. You've gotten so good at it, you don't even realize it's happening. Meanwhile, those of us who want to help get shut out. Maybe you don't realize how much we are in this together. I have to help you."

Something about the way Car said that made Nova's blood chill. "You have to? What does that mean exactly?" I was almost too scared to hear the answer. Was she doing this at some warped direction of our father?

When she didn't answer me right away, the panic inside me spiked. If that bastard had my own sister playing me...

So help me God I was going to—

"Have you forgotten when my birthday is?"

My heart tripped, and I couldn't focus for a second.

This wasn't about being played.

"Of course not. Five years and three months after mine," I whispered. "Are you saying—"

"I don't know anything for sure, since they barely speak to me, but I'm not stupid, either. After you left, I was pulled out of school and forced into home schooling. I haven't been allowed to leave this house without at least two guards since, and I don't think he's just guarding my life, if you know what I mean."

"Oh God." I knew exactly what she meant. I'd tried to ruin his plans at that age. He was making sure his investment still had her virginity intact when she turned eighteen.

Fucking sick bastard.

"Honestly, I'm surprised he even bothers to wait until eighteen. He doesn't give a shit about our childhoods." Her angry words fueled the bitterness rushing through me.

Again, she was right. The fact he'd given me five years to recover from that night didn't make sense. At the time, I'd been too naive and too scared to question it, but over the years, I'd wondered and no answer had ever come to me. Although I suspected it would, when the time was right for him.

"Maybe Mother had a hand in the waiting until we were technical adults. Marrying us off sooner might have damaged her reputation."

Carina scoffed. "Whatever. It's so freaking obvious that she cares more about what happens to her sons than her daughters. You don't see them being forced to marry when they turn eighteen. They aren't even held accountable for the deplorable crap they pull on a regular basis. The double standards are total bullshit."

"Well, that's why we’re going to do something about it ourselves. But let me handle this part, okay? Your job as my eyes and ears there is as important as the rest of it."

"I don't mean to add any more pressure to you over this, but the clock is ticking, big sis. If this doesn't work, then I've got to start working on my plan B."

"What's that?"

"I don't know for sure yet. Run maybe?"

That thought sent a vicious shudder up my spine and made the base of my skull tingle. She would be hunted to the ends of the earth, and when they found her...

"Oh shit. Someone's coming. I gotta go."

Before I could get in a word of warning, the line went dead. The idea of Carina in that house with no one on her side scared the hell out of me. If I couldn't use those diamonds to make some sort of deal with my father, then I would have to come up with another plan to help us both.

These forced marriages were completely illegal. No better than the sex slave trade. Not that I was supposed to know anything about that.

However, I always had been too curious for my own good.