My Sinful Love (Sinful Men Book 4) Read online

  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.