My Sinful Love
Book Four in the Sinful Men Series
Lauren Blakely
Little Dog Press
Contents
Also by Lauren Blakely
About
My Sinful Love
1. Michael
2. Annalise
3. Michael
4. Annalise
5. Michael
6. Annalise
7. Michael
8. Annalise
9. Michael
10. Becky
11. Annalise
12. Thomas
13. Michael
14. Annalise
15. Michael
16. Annalise
17. Michael
18. Michael
19. Bianca
20. John
21. Michael
22. Sanders
23. Michael
24. Luke
25. Thomas
26. Michael
27. Annalise
28. Annalise
29. Michael
30. Michael
31. Michael
32. Annalise
33. Michael
34. Annalise
35. Michael
36. Annalise
37. Annalise
38. Michael
39. Michael
40. Michael
41. Annalise
42. Michael
43. Sanders
44. Michael
45. Annalise
46. Michael
47. Thomas
48. Sanders
49. Thomas
50. Dora
51. Annalise
52. Luke
53. John
54. Luke
55. Lee
56. Michael
57. John
58. Michael
59. Annalise
60. Michael
61. Annalise
62. Michael
63. Annalise
64. Michael
65. Annalise
66. Michael
67. John
68. Michael
69. Annalise
70. Michael
71. Charlie
72. Michael
73. Annalise
74. Dora
75. Charlie
76. Dora
77. Special Agent Laura K. Reiss
78. Sanders
79. John
80. Colin
81. Annalise
82. Charlie
83. John
84. Thomas
85. Annalise
86. Annalise
87. Special Agent Laura K. Reiss
88. Becky
89. Special Agent Laura K. Reiss
90. John
91. Annalise
92. Michael
93. Michael
94. Marcus
95. Mindy
96. Michael
Epilogue
Also by Lauren Blakely
Contact
Copyright © 2020 by Lauren Blakely
Cover Design by Helen Williams.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This contemporary romance is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This book is licensed for your personal use only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with, especially if you enjoy sexy romance novels with alpha males. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Also by Lauren Blakely
Big Rock Series
Big Rock
Mister O
Well Hung
Full Package
Joy Ride
Hard Wood
P.S. It's Always Been You Series
P.S. It’s Always Been You: Part 1
P.S. It’s Always Been You: Part 2
P.S. It’s Always Been You: Part 3
The Gift Series
The Engagement Gift
The Virgin Gift
The Decadent Gift
The Heartbreakers Series
Once Upon a Real Good Time
Once Upon a Sure Thing
Once Upon a Wild Fling
Boyfriend Material
Asking For a Friend
Sex and Other Shiny Objects
One Night Stand-In
Lucky In Love Series
Best Laid Plans
The Feel Good Factor
Nobody Does It Better
Unzipped
Always Satisfied Series
Satisfaction Guaranteed
Instant Gratification
Overnight Service
Never Have I Ever
Special Delivery
The Sexy Suit Series
Lucky Suit
Birthday Suit
From Paris With Love
Wanderlust
Part-Time Lover
One Love Series
The Sexy One
The Only One
The Hot One
The Knocked Up Plan
Come As You Are
Sports Romance
Most Valuable Playboy
Most Likely to Score
Standalones
Stud Finder
The V Card
The Real Deal
Unbreak My Heart
The Break-Up Album
21 Stolen Kisses
Out of Bounds
The Caught Up in Love Series:
The Swoony New Reboot of the Contemporary Romance Series
The Pretending Plot (previously called Pretending He’s Mine)
The Dating Proposal
The Second Chance Plan (previously called Caught Up In Us)
The Private Rehearsal (previously called Playing With Her Heart)
Stars In Their Eyes Duet
My Charming Rival
My Sexy Rival
The No Regrets Series
The Start of Us
The Thrill of It
Every Second With You
The Seductive Nights Series
First Night (Julia and Clay, prequel novella)
Night After Night (Julia and Clay, book one)
After This Night (Julia and Clay, book two)
One More Night (Julia and Clay, book three)
A Wildly Seductive Night (Julia and Clay novella, book 3.5)
The Joy Delivered Duet
Nights With Him (A standalone novel about Michelle and Jack)
Forbidden Nights (A standalone novel about Nate and Casey)
The Sinful Men Series
My Sinful Nights
My Sinful Desire
My Sinful Longing
My Sinful Love
The Fighting Fire Series
Burn For Me (Smith and Jamie)
Melt for Him (Megan and Becker)
Consumed By You (Travis and Cara)
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The Jewel Series
A two-book sexy contemporary romance series
The Sapphire Affair
The Sapphire Heist
About
A wildly sexy, emotional, and suspenseful romance novel from #1 New York Times Bestselling author Lauren Blakely…
She was my what if girl. The one I longed for. The one I tried to find again after she left for the other side of the world.
Now, years later, fate has swept the only woman I’ve ever loved back into my life.
With her intensity, her honesty, her passion, Annalise tries to break down my walls, because she’s the one who knew me before my family shattered.
When we collide again, it's tender and savage, gentle and rough, and makes me hungry for more of this electric, once-in-a-blue moon kind of connection.
If I want to keep her close, I’ll have to serve up the whole truth of where I went and what I did after she left.
But if I do, I risk losing her again, and that’s not a fate I’m ready to face. Not when each day brings me closer to finding the people who ripped my family apart and seeing them put behind bars.
Until the day I learn Annalise is holding the final piece of the puzzle to solving the mystery.
My Sinful Love
By Lauren Blakely
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1
Michael
The letter smelled like her. Like rain.
I ran my thumb over the corner of the paper and closed my eyes briefly. Memories rose to the surface, bringing with them feelings of hope and possibility.
Things that were far too risky when it came to her.
I shut them down, opened my eyes, and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse on the Strip, trying to focus on the here and now, not the enticing lure of what-if. Tonight the lights of Vegas would blink like a carnival unfolding below, from the miniature Eiffel Tower, to the pyramid, to the blazing signs adorning The Cosmopolitan. Neon, glitz, and billboards ten stories high proclaimed the best night ever.
But I had to stay fixed on the minute details of the present, not be seduced by the past and how good it was, or of how much I’d longed for a future with her.
I wasn’t having the easiest time of that. From my vantage point, twenty stories above the concrete ribbon that beckoned millions of tourists, I brought the letter to my nose for one final inhale.
The scent of falling rain.
Try as I might to fight it, a reel of sensory images rushed back from years ago, like the snap, snap, snap of old film. How many times had I kissed Annalise in the rain? Brushed her wild red hair off her cheeks and touched her soft skin? Listened to her laugh?
Countless. Just like the times my mind had lingered on her over the last eighteen years, including that heartbreaking day in Marseilles, which had damn near slaughtered all my hopes in the world.
Carefully, I folded up the letter, slid it back into the tiny envelope postmarked from France, and stuffed it into my wallet next to a crinkled, faded, threadbare note from my father that I carried with me always. Her letter had arrived a couple of weeks ago, and I’d read it a thousand times already. I could read it a thousand more, but it wouldn’t change my answer—the same one I’d emailed back to her.
Yes.
It was always yes with her.
Dear Michael,
I hope this note finds you well. I will be in Las Vegas for business in a few weeks. I would love to see you again. Would you like to have a coffee with me? Come to think of it, do you drink coffee now? If memory serves, you were never fond of it. Perhaps tea, or water, or martinis at midday? Any, all, or some would be lovely.
My information is below so you can respond. I would have emailed, but a letter seemed more fitting. And, truth be told, easier to ignore, should that be your preference.
Though I will be wishing to see your name pop up in my email soon.
xoxo
Annalise
As if I stood a chance of not emailing her. As if there were any universe, parallel, perpendicular, or otherwise, where I wouldn’t take her up on her offer for coffee, tea, liquor, or a few minutes in a café.
Any, all, or some.
I turned away from the midday view of the city I loved and headed to the stereo system above my flat-screen, piping music through my home. This Sunday afternoon, following a long, hard run and an even longer workout at the gym, I’d cued up my favorite playlist as I got ready to see her, methodically picking songs I’d discovered in the last few years, rather than the music I’d shared with her when we were younger.
Not that I didn’t still love my late ’90s tunes. I just knew I’d be a goner if I let myself trip that far back in time.
I turned off the fading guitar riff, and silence descended on my home.
I grabbed my keys and my phone from the entryway table, locked the door, and headed down the hall, wishing my pulse wasn’t already competing in a race.
The ride down the elevator was both interminable and not long enough. Anticipation curled through me as I left my high-rise building, crossed the big intersection, and headed toward Las Vegas Boulevard. The air had cooled—September had rolled into my hometown. This brief walk in the crisp air would surely quell the nerves that bounced in my chest.
I didn’t want to feel them. Nor did I want to experience this wild sense of hope rattling in me like a marble sliding down a chute. Dragging a hand through my hair, I tried to focus on anything but her.
Later this afternoon I had a meeting with a client, then this evening I’d review some new contracts for work. Sometime this week I’d meet with the detective working my father’s case, touching base with him before I left for a trip. I also needed to check in with the private investigator.
My phone bleated from my back pocket, and I grabbed it quickly. My friend Mindy’s name flashed across the screen. “Hey there,” I said, while winding my way through the throngs of visitors on the sidewalk.
“Whatcha wearing?” she singsonged. “Wait. Don’t tell me. You went for your favorite jeans and a lucky T-shirt.”
I laughed. “I assure you I don’t have a lucky T-shirt.”
“Well, you should. I would get on that right away.”
“Duly noted. I’ll order up one lucky T-shirt after this meeting.”
“Meeting. You make it sound so businesslike.”
“How should I make it sound?”
“Like you’ve been counting down the hours for this since you received the letter,” she said, making the note sound ominous. An information Hoover, Mindy had a way of wheedling details out of me ever since we’d graduated from professional colleagues to good friends over the summer when we’d paired up on a moonlighting project.
“Speaking of counting down the hours, I’ll see you early evening still?” I asked, sidestepping her far too accurate assessment of how I’d measured the time since Annalise’s missive had arrived.
“Yup. I’ll be there at five. I fully expect you to tell me every dirty detail.”
“There won’t be any dirty details.”
She scoffed. “Oh, I bet there will, and I plan on extracting them all.”
“Goodbye, Mindy,” I said.
The thought of seeing Annalise Delacroix had pretty much played on a loop in my mind since I’d flipped through the mail on my desk a couple of weeks ago, the lavender envelope sliding from the top of the pile into my palm, the past thundering into the present. I had a shoebox full of her letters from years ago. I hadn’t looked at them in ages though. I couldn’t bring myself to chuck them, but I also wasn’t interested in inflicting the kind of self-torture that reading them would bring.
I threaded through the crowds outside the Bellagio as sprays of water from the fountains arced in their daytime ballet, shoes clicking against the stone pathway that curved around the man-made lake and took me inside the hotel lobby, with its marble floor
s, glass sculptures, and grand archways.