Santerra's Sin: A Loveswept Classic Romance Read online

  “He said he should have chosen that,” Blue said. “Did he tell you what he truly would have done?”

  Diego nodded. “He said that his first reaction when I asked him was that he would have killed them. It was that reaction, the anger he had for them that he hadn’t been able to reconcile. Though he hadn’t killed them, he felt as if he’d committed the sin anyway. I told him that his faith didn’t preclude him from being human, from being a man.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He looked at me and said that maybe the real sin was in not being honest with yourself. In pretending to be what you think you should be instead of confronting what you truly are and coming to peace with that.”

  “Have you come to peace with who you are?” she asked.

  “I thought I had.”

  “And now?”

  “I’m not so sure. I turned your father down.”

  Honestly surprised, Blue asked, “And you regret that now? It’s not too late—”

  “That’s what I’m hoping. He walked to her, stopping less than a foot away. “I have always been honest with myself about who I am and the life I’ve led. I was honest with your father about why I couldn’t lead the team.”

  “But you want to anyway?”

  “No. That decision stands. I’ve had a hard time being honest with myself about what I really want. I told myself that I was doing the right thing in not reaching for what I wanted, even though it felt wrong. Your father made me realize that what I thought was nobility and selflessness was really cowardice and fear. Fear of trying and failing. Fear of wanting something so badly and not getting it. That is why I’m here.”

  “To come to peace with it or to go after what you want?”

  “In order to do the first, I have to do the second.”

  Blue swallowed the knot in her throat. “And what is it you want?”

  He took another step, casting a shadow between them that allowed her into his pale blue eyes.

  “You. I want you. I love you, Blue.”

  Blue almost put her hand to her chest to keep her heart from bursting through her skin. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, but held back. He deserved the same honesty he’d shown her.

  “I told myself that I was doing what I wanted, enrolling in the academy, and that you needed to choose for yourself what you wanted. That’s why I didn’t contact you.

  “Maybe the real sin here is in making a choice without allowing the other person involved to have a say,” she continued. “You are right. It’s easy to mistake nobility for fear. I thought that by becoming a police officer, I was conquering my fear. But you know what?”

  “What?”

  The raw emotion in that one word pulled Blue a step closer to Diego. “When I came back from Florida, I had no doubts about selling the cantina and enrolling. I knew it was right. You gave me the strength to see that. But there is something else I want even more. And I was terrified to try and fail, so I told myself I was doing the right thing to avoid facing it.”

  “What do you want, Blue?”

  She closed the distance between them and laid her hand against his cheek. They both trembled.

  “I want you, Diego Santerra.”

  He pulled her into his arms, weaving a hand through her hair. “No more fear,” he whispered.

  “No more facing choices alone.”

  He kissed her and she returned it, taking and giving soft kisses, exploring slowly, gently, until Diego finally lifted his mouth away from hers.

  “We’ll face what we want together and make it work, Blue.”

  “Does that mean no more sinning?”

  Diego’s smile was slow and sexy. “Well, I had thought about making an honest woman out of you.”

  “You already have.” She kissed him. “I love you. I want you.” She kissed him again. “And now that I have you, I intend to keep you. How’s that for honesty?”

  He looped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. “I think I sort of like the idea of being a kept man, but actually I thought I’d get a job too.”

  Blue marveled at how naturally their bodies fit together, how right he felt. She rested her arms on his shoulders, playing with the ends of his hair.

  “What do you want to do?” she asked, knowing his answer would not alter how she felt. She’d support him in his choice just as he had hers.

  “Your father put me in touch with a newly formed agency based in Colorado, just outside of Denver. Basically they set up defensive-tactics training schools. It’s mostly geared to government agencies, both well known and not so well known. But they are already looking to link the schools to other countries and combine forces with their trainers.”

  His enthusiasm was so genuine, she had to laugh. “Sounds perfect.”

  “There’s only one problem. I’d have to go before you completed academy training.”

  “Well, I’ve already talked to Gerraro about the Taos PD. Actually he talked to me. He seems to think that I’d find more of what I want, law-enforcement-wise, in a bigger city. And if I want to make detective down the line, I think he is right.”

  “Denver is a city.”

  She grinned. “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Marry me, Blue.”

  “Yes,” she said instantly, then kissed him. “On one condition,” she added.

  “Name it.”

  “Take me skiing for our honeymoon?” Blue was surprised when Diego suddenly looked uncomfortable.

  Understanding dawned. “Your foot. You can’t ski.” She kissed him then caressed his cheek, a hot thrill stealing through her when his eyes lit yet again at her casual touch. “It’s okay, really. I was kidding.”

  “It’s not my foot. But you’re right, I can’t ski.” He actually looked sheepish. “At least I don’t know if I can.”

  “I’ll stay with you on the bunny slopes as long as necessary,” she said with mock sympathy.

  “We’ll see who outslaloms who,” he shot back.

  “We really must work on your confidence.”

  He pulled her head to his and kissed her long and hard. “This is only the beginning, Blue. I promise you I’ll work as hard at being your husband as I’ve ever done anything else. I love you.”

  “And I love you. I promise you’ll never be rid of me.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  She squeezed him tighter. “I was counting on it. I’ll let you ride my Harley down the mountain if you teach me how to throw that knife you’re wearing.”

  “Do I sense a bargaining pattern developing here?”

  She smiled and whispered in his ear.

  He grinned, then scooped her up in his arms.

  Blue let out a yelp. “I didn’t mean right now, right here. Put me down before you strain something.”

  “The key to bargaining is compromise,” he said, walking over to the Harley. “The knife throwing can wait, but I’ll let you make the choice.” Then he whispered in her ear.

  “Why, yes,” she said with a wicked grin. “Choice is a very good thing indeed.”

  THE EDITOR’S CORNER

  Welcome to Loveswept!

  Summer’s over and the days are starting to get shorter and cooler. If you’re missing summer’s warmth, turn up the heat with our new Loveswept releases.

  Coming out next month: Linda Cajio’s super-sexy NIGHTS IN WHITE SATIN, Karen Leabo’s moving and tender LANA’S LAWMAN, and three more fantastic books from Donna Kauffman: MIDNIGHT HEAT, BORN TO BE WILD and SURRENDER THE DARK.

  If you love romance … then you’re ready to be Loveswept!

  Gina Wachtel

  Associate Publisher

  P.S. Watch for these terrific Loveswept titles coming soon: In November, we have six more exhilarating reads for you: Adrienne Staff’s irresistible PARADISE CAFÉ, Linda Cajio’s playful and sexy THE PERFECT CATCH, Debra Dixon’s sensual DOC HOLIDAY, Samantha Kane’s brilliant THE DEVIL’S THIEF, and two more enthralling titles from Donna Kauffman: TEASE ME, and
BAYOU HEAT. And December brings these fantastic releases: Juliet Rosetti’s charming ESCAPE DIARIES, Juliana Garnett’s enchanting medieval THE MAGIC, and four more breathtaking stories from Donna Kauffman’s: BOUNTY HUNTER, TANGO IN PRADISE, ILLEGAL MOTION and BLACK SATIN.

  Don’t miss any of these extraordinary reads. I promise that you’ll fall in love and treasure these stories for years to come.…

  Read on for excerpts from more Loveswept titles …

  Read on for an excerpt from Elisabeth Barrett’s

  Deep Autumn Heat

  CHAPTER 1

  “Any local worth his salt knows what time the fishing starts in Star Harbor,” a large, handsome, dangerous-looking man with raven-black hair intoned in a deadpan. “And it ain’t eight-thirty.”

  After listening to this blatant insult, Sebastian Grayson, world traveler and master chef, fought the urge to throttle the man who was now reeling in his line. Throttle him, or toss his own tackle box off Mutterman’s Pier and crawl back into his tiny berth on Val’s boat. Of course, both would require energy, so he let exhaustion win out. Pulling his leather jacket more tightly around his tired, aching body, Seb leaned back on a pylon and closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar tang of salt water and wet wood. The cold, foggy air rushing into his lungs was helping to wake him up some, but he’d still kill for a latte.

  Cole’s wisecrack had definitely hit a nerve. Just like his brother, Seb was Star Harbor born and bred, and even though he hadn’t lived in town for the last decade, it didn’t mean he’d lost his “local” status. He’d been on this pier a thousand times. The clang of the buoys in the harbor, the strain and creak of the boats at their moorings, and the cries of the seabirds searching for their morning meal were all imprinted on his brain. The images of his three brothers were imprinted there, too, each of them in his favorite spot along the wharf, just as they were now.

  Val, the oldest, stood against the far pylon, his lean, wiry frame concealed by an oversized fisherman’s jacket, longish black hair curled at his nape. Cole, second in age, was seated with his broad back up against another pylon, his eyes covered by mirrored sunglasses. Theo, Seb’s twin, had one long leg folded against his chest as he leaned on a bench, his rod in one hand and a book of Whitman poems in the other. Theo’s green eyes were the exact mirror of his own, and right now they were crinkled in mirth.

  The Grayson brothers, Star Harbor’s former resident bad boys, were back in town and ready for business.

  That is, after Sebastian got his coffee.

  Farther down the wharf, a few older men who’d cast their lures at the crack of dawn were silently packing up to leave, their thick jackets buttoned up against the early autumn chill as they gathered their morning’s catch. Each of Seb’s brothers had already caught a few fish large enough to keep—striped bass and mackerel, mostly. If Seb had been out here fishing at five-thirty like they’d been, he’d have something to show for his efforts, too.

  “Sleep well, princess?” Cole asked, his deep voice cutting through the mist. Theo snickered softly from behind his book.

  “Mmm,” Seb grunted. He tried to ignore them but he knew it was futile. His brothers were dead set on giving him hell for sleeping late. Cole pushed his sunglasses up on his head, revealing deep blue eyes. Funny, he didn’t remember his brother looking so hardened. Ever since Cole had returned from Afghanistan where his Special Forces unit had been stationed, he’d been on edge. Seb was glad Cole had left his job as a cop in Boston to become the sheriff of Star Harbor. Maybe being back in their small hometown would do him good.

  “Seb needs his beauty sleep, isn’t that right?” Theo teased with a smile.

  They weren’t going to quit ribbing him until he rose to the bait. “Any one of you could have woken me up,” Seb complained.

  “No one would dare. Don’t you sleep next to your wicked sharp knives rolled up in that nylon bag?” Cole said, his mouth curving up in a half smile.

  “At least I don’t sleep with a loaded Glock on my nightstand,” Seb retorted before he could stop himself. In less than a second, Cole’s smile was gone and he was standing up, his posture putting all of Seb’s senses on high alert.

  “Not today.” Val’s calm, even voice sliced through the tension. Both brothers backed down, realizing that Val was right. For a moment they had forgotten that they were here in Star Harbor for one reason: to pay homage to their father, who’d died twenty years ago during a hurricane. No matter where they were or what they were doing, they always gathered together in their hometown on Labor Day weekend, the anniversary of his death.

  Val and Cole lived in Star Harbor, but Seb had driven his motorcycle in from New York City and Theo had flown in from San Francisco. As was their tradition, they’d spend the long weekend together, remembering their dad.

  Seb swept his gaze over the misty water, watching the boats pitch and roll through the haze as the tide slowly went out. Then he turned toward the town. The old-fashioned gas lamps that stayed on all night were still lit, but the fog was thick and he could barely make out the Victorian houses lining Harbor Street. Star Harbor looked exactly the same as it did when he’d left it so many years ago.

  God, being here brought back so many memories. Like the time he and his brothers had rigged those fireworks to go off seconds before the annual summer small craft regatta started. It had taken the organizers at least an hour to get everything back on track. Or the time they all ditched school to head to Providence for Oktoberfest. Their mother had been furious. A smile crept onto his face. For a few moments, he could almost forget his weariness and the mountain of work waiting for him back in New York—planning his fall menu, brainstorming for his television show, and figuring out where he was going to open his new restaurant. He thought he might have settled on Boston, but he couldn’t be sure until he found the right venue. Crap, he’d better be sure. He’d already spent too much time trying to make that decision.

  Seb sighed. He used to love being a renowned chef, and had thrived on the sheer volume of work. But lately, it had started to seem like a slog. Had he lost his passion or was he just exhausted?

  Damn. He had to stop stressing so that he could enjoy the weekend, but that probably wasn’t going to happen. He had only himself to blame. His plan was to stay in Star Harbor for a full week, but it wasn’t going to be much of a vacation. He would need to spend at least part of the time working on his upcoming projects. Later on in the morning, he was scheduled to scout out spaces in Boston for his new restaurant. His brothers weren’t too happy about it—their tradition was to spend the weekend together, after all—but it was rare that he ever got time away from his restaurant, Helena. Suddenly, the fact that he was tired, damp, cold, and seriously decaffeinated started to wear on him. He needed that coffee, bad.

  “So how’s the writing going, Theo?” he asked, trying to think about something else.

  Theo set his book down. “Not as well as I’d like,” he admitted. “I’m having trouble getting started on my next project.”

  “Lower your standards,” Cole joked.

  “Never.” Theo shook his head. “I just wish I could find some real inspiration.”

  “It’s everywhere, all around you,” Val said sagely. He was right. Seb himself could draw inspiration for one of his entrées from anything—a smell, a color, or even an interesting texture. Val didn’t talk much. Never had. But when he said something, it was worth it to listen. Val had been his rock—everyone’s rock, really—since their father had died. And after their mother had passed away twelve years ago, taken from them by a stroke, Val was the closest thing they had to a parent.

  He looked at his oldest brother. Calm. Resolute. His face bracketed by a square jaw and steely blue eyes. Their mother’s eyes. He’d trust Val with anything. He trusted Theo and Cole, too, of course, but Val was the most solid of them all. The younger Grayson boys had gone wild when their dad had died. But somehow, despite the fact that he was only a few years older than Cole, Val had brought them
back to Earth. Grounded them. Without him, they would have stayed adrift. Val hadn’t supported most of their rowdy adventures, but he had always stepped in to keep things under control. It was Val who’d suggested Seb travel to pursue his passion. He had taken that advice, and now he was at the top of his culinary game.

  “Maybe you should come back to Star Harbor for a while. Get some good ideas for your new book,” Cole suggested.

  “Maybe,” Theo responded ambiguously and went back to reading. Though not as soft-spoken as Val, Theo was quieter than either Cole or himself. They’d called him “the Professor” growing up because he’d always had his nose in a book or his pen to paper, meticulously plotting their escapades. Cole had been their logistics guy, so it had come as no surprise to anyone when he joined the military. And Seb? He’d been the charmer, able to sweet-talk anyone into anything. Just like their father.

  Seb had loved his mom, but like most boys, he’d worshipped his dad—his slow but easy smile. The way the corners of his eyes would crinkle up when he found something funny. The old pirate stories he used to tell the boys before bedtime. Seb thought about him every day. It was hard not to. Every time he opened his mouth or looked at himself in a mirror he was reminded of his father. But most of all, he missed his dad’s laughter echoing off the sides of his fishing boat as he hauled in the day’s catch.

  “Hey, you guys talk to James Bishop lately?” Seb asked, trying to snap himself out of his funk. Jimmy had been a part of their high school crowd and Seb felt a brief twinge of regret that he hadn’t kept in better touch.

  “I haven’t talked to Jimmy in years,” Theo said as he broke down his rod and reel.

  Val nodded. “Yep. Owns his own tour boat and sailing company now. He’s getting married in a few weeks. Asked me and Cole to be in his wedding party.”