Chapter 15 Cold Shoulder

Nicholas

Confused, he watched Sinclair briskly walked towards the diner's cramp kitchen. What happened? One minute she was gazing at him in adoration the next she was running away from him scared.

Gazing down at his steaming cup of black coffee, he tried to think. He knew she would be upset at him for coming to get her late. The business with Lucifer took longer than he anticipated. After the meeting, he had to go back to the manor to get some things he needed from the vault. Then they made another plan for attending a dinner invitation at Devon. He made a promise to his peers they would stick together and help them avoid the matchmaking mamas and their eager pasty-faced charges. Nothing had changed since the 16th century. Catching eligible bachelors were still the highlight of such an evening. Nicholas shuddered. Again, he was thankful he would have his sweetheart, his soon-to-be viscountess by his side.

"Redington," Huntly uttered, catching his attention. "Sinclair is upset." -No shit Sherlock.-

"Yes. I promised I would be here by midnight and..." He stopped when Mountford shook his head in amusement.

"Ah. The wonders of a budding romance." The Earl smirked. "Tell me, have you been jealous before?"

Nicholas was about to scoff at the absurdity of it and thought better. He remembered how jealous he was when he saw the frat boy flirting with his lady and the violence it did to his feelings. "Actually yes. Yesterday. " He admitted. A first for him.

Grinning like a predator, Sandringham leaned closer, his great gray eyes focused on something, then he smirked. "Let's hope you have a very comfortable couch in your bedroom."

The lords were fascinated by something. "What's the bloody punchline?" Nicholas grumbled. Not appreciating the fact he was the brunt of some asinine joke.

"Not my place to judge since this had happened a lot of times during our Eton days. Remember the time when the grandmaster caught us in a reputable nightclub, each of us had two women on their knees sucking..."

"Alright, Huntley. Just fucking tell me. And as I remember correctly, you were shitfaced that night, and your neck was full of hickeys and cosmetics..." Nicholas stopped. Realizing what happened at Lucifer's nightclub. "Where?"

"Blood red lipstick on your right collar. Should always wear dark colors, Redington." Cerdic murmured.

Fucking hell! Sinclair must have thought of him to be a cold-blooded bastard for leaving her at his place with Mrs. Dee after they indulged in his office and dropping her without a by your leave after they were both fully sated. Deducing he was in a nightclub with his friends, getting drunk and picking up girls. "Shit!" Nicholas rubbed his hands on his face. A rare sight to see. Out of the five of them, he was the coolest and laid back. Rarely spooked by anything. Though he did nothing wrong, he was so afraid of Sinclair's anger. "Alright. It's closing time. You have to go. Meet you at Devon tomorrow evening." The whole place was empty except for their group and two attendants cleaning the mess made by patrons.

"If only your mother and sisters could see you now." The duke barked his laughter, shaking his head.

"One thousand pounds he will be sleeping on the couch tonight." Sandringham, the asshole said.

"I'll take it." The Earl murmured. "Cerdic, Huntley?" He raised his brow.

"Why not?" The doctor answered. Cerdic nodded.

"Some comrades you are. Go!" Nicholas growled, ignoring their deep chuckles while they slap his back in a gesture of farewell. He sighed heavily. Watching them exit the diner and went to their respective sports car. The only vehicle left in the parking lot was his silver Aston Martin One-77.

Damnation! He had a lot to explain and he didn't know where to start. First things first, he had to address the lipstick on his shirt. It was fucking 2 AM. Striding to the privacy of the kitchen, he looked around and found his sweetheart slumped in a corner, her forlorn gaze looking at the worn paints on the wall, tears streaked down her flushed cheeks and spiked her dark eyelashes.

Uncaring of his expensive satin gray pants, he kneeled before her and cupped her face, tilting her head towards him. She flinched. "It's not what you think, sweetheart. I could never betray your trust. Not ever. I am yours. Only yours."

"You were not on a nightclub drinking?" She asked softly then tried to look away. He held her firmly.

"I was at a meeting. That was all there was to it. Please, can we go home? I will explain everything to you. I promise." Nicholas had never explained himself to anyone. He was arrogant enough to do what pleases him and the damners be damned. Not with Sinclair. He'd do anything to clear the doubts in her mind. Make her understand the depth of his feelings for her.

She nodded reluctantly. He gave a deep sigh of release. Tension leaving his body. Sinclair believing in him was more important to him than anything else. Helping her to her feet, he kissed her hair and tucked her to his side. God. She felt so delicate pressed to his lean frame. So vulnerable. The warrior in him wanted her safe at all times. Loathe to lose her. Hated to be parted from her, not even for a second. She had come to mean so much to him. Sinclair was his Viscountess, the future of his house. His strategy to slowly integrate her into his life was taking its toll. Nicholas had no choice. He had to follow through with his plans or he might spook her. That can never happen.

***

The drive home was quiet. She kept to herself and she avoided looking at him. Fuck! He felt like strangling the woman who left a mark on his shirt at the nightclub, succeeding in rattling his fragile relationship with his woman. If only Sinclair knew him enough. His complete loyalty to her. She would not have any doubts. -Then show her and make her believe.-

Since meeting her, all their interactions were either in school or in bedrooms. Not once had he asked her on a date. Tonight was the first time they had interacted in her comfort zone as well as with other people. Introducing her to his peers, his best friends, whom he trust with his life was a must. A rite of passage. The five of them had pledged they would only settle down with the woman they loved, defying fathers, familial expectations, and society's dictates and conventions. They would never accept second best. They wanted passion, commitment, and loyalty. Nicholas was lucky he was the first one to find his other half. Even luckier his mother approved of his choice.

The house was quiet when they arrived. Only the light in the hallway guiding them to their suite of rooms.

"You told me I can have my own bedroom." She reminded in a quiet voice.

Shocked, he halted before his door, her small hand engulfed by his. "Don't you want to sleep beside me tonight, sweet?"

"I...I do. It's just that, we've been together a lot. I thought you might want some privacy." She looked down.

He released the breath he was holding. "If it's up to me, I'd prefer to always be at your side. Holding you. Taking care of you. If you still want to sleep separately after we talk then I'd respect your wish but for now, please give me the chance to explain." Though it will pain him to sleep without her, he would grant her her request. He'd give her anything. Except for her freedom.

"Okay, Nicholas. Let's talk." Relieved, he opened the door for her and led her to their bedroom.

"Let's change to our nightclothes." He suggested. To his surprise, she led him to the ensuite bath.

"Shower first. I feel sticky." She murmured shyly, turned around, she undressed before him. His dark brown eyes devoured her elegant beauty.

Not questioning his luck, he shucked his clothes in record time so he could lead her to the shower stall. Big enough to fill at least ten people, but he held his sweet close to his naked chest.

Adjusting the valves for the multiple showerheads above them, he sighed as the warm water cascaded on their bodies, washing away doubts and insecurities.

Not breaking the comfortable silence between them, he proceeded to bathe her. Slowly and gently, he ran his hands to the familiar delectable territory. He had memorized every inch of her. Flaws and imperfections. Dips and hallows. More beautiful than he could imagine. His. All his. She didn't stop him, instead, the back of her head leaned on his chest, eyes closed in bliss from his ministrations. His touch was nothing sexual, for the moment, his goal was to take care of her. Show her how much she meant to him. How much he had fallen in love with her. "I would never want another woman, Sinclair. No one could compare. It has only been you. Forever." With the way she melted against his body, she had heard every word he said despite the rain of warm water showering on them.

Turning in his arms, not an inch separating them, his hard cock on her wet belly, she crept her slender arms on his wet chest to his neck, clinging, her supple body supported by his weight. He felt her warm breath on his skin. He shuddered. "I believe you, Nick." Her voice was too timid and small, he hated himself for the cause of it.

"Thank you, Sin. Let's finish this and get comfortable." Suppressing his need to ravish her, he methodically washed her body and bundled her in warm towels. "Wear one of my shirts?" She nodded. "I will join you in our bed in a few minutes." He had to finish alone or else he would be buried inside her, taking her against the cold tiled walls. Maybe on their honeymoon, he would act upon his fantasy, all the same, this was not the time.

By the time he joined in their bed, Sinclair was under the satin sheets waiting for him. Uncaring of his nudity, he dropped the towel to the floor and padded towards her. He ignored her gasped. She should get used to him sleeping naked next to her. They would be married soon anyway.

Joining her under the covers, he gathered her in his arms, her cheek on his thudding heart, her creamy-white leg on his torso. "Nick," Sinclair murmured. He pressed a kiss on her forehead.

"I was in a club tonight. A gentlemen's club and a nightclub." She stiffened and tried to move away. He tightened his arms around her and held her closer. "Wait, sweet. Just listen," she slumped back on his hard frame. "Thank you. The nightclub was for the information we needed. And no. I didn't encourage any woman because I have you and I intend to be faithful to you. The lipstick was from the lady who tried to preposition me. I declined. As for what I was doing before that, the reason I had to leave you," he paused, trying to gather his thoughts. "I am a member of a very exclusive club. You've met the rest of the members earlier. EJ is Baron Huntley. Lucien, the Earl of Mountford, Jared, Marquis of Sandringham, and our leader, Alastair, the Duke of Cerdic. We do not accept any other lords. We don't trust easily either. Because of what we do, our club remained anonymous."

"What exactly do you do?" She asked hesitantly.

This was the hardest part. However, Sinclair would be part of his life. His wife. His Viscountess. She had to know.

"We are vigilantes. We protect the innocents. We kill the demons of society. We are a law unto ourselves."

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