Breaking the Rules (A Sinner and Saint Novel Book 2)

by Lucy Score

  Waverly stretched luxuriously. “Like my body melted. You’re an excellent teacher, Mom.”

  Her mother waved away the praise. “You were moving through sun salutation as if you’d finished a marathon yesterday. Is it safe to assume that Xavier got his way?”

  Sober Sylvia was eerily perceptive.

  “Mom!”

  “I know you don’t feel comfortable sharing everything about your love life,” Sylvia said patting her leg. “But this is Xavier.”

  Sylvia knew exactly how gutted Waverly had been over him. In the wake of Sylvia’s stay in rehab and Waverly’s near-death experience, they had bonded over therapy sessions and late night talks.

  “We may have resumed a particular area of our relationship last night,” Waverly said vaguely.

  “I thought I recognized a satisfied woman,” Sylvia said.

  “Gross, Mom!”

  “Darling, if you don’t want people thinking about you and Xavier like that, you’re going to have to tone down the sparks that fly between you two. When you came to dinner, I thought you’d start a wildfire.”

  “He says he loves me.”

  Sylvia nodded, waited.

  “I don’t want to love him.”

  “Because he hurt you before?” Sylvia prompted.

  “That and… I don’t know how to describe it. He’s so all consuming. There’s nothing safe and steady there. He makes me feel too much. The highs are meteoric, and the lows are devastating. It’s not healthy.”

  Sylvia reached for her hand, squeezed it. “Waverly, did it ever occur to you that seeking the safety of numbness is what’s not healthy?”

  Waverly sat with that for a moment.

  “You can’t protect yourself from life, daughter of mine,” Sylvia said with a sad smile. “I would love to keep you from feeling any of the hurt that it brings, but that wouldn’t be fair. The point isn’t to get through life unscathed. It’s to throw yourself into it and experience every drop of it. Get scarred, get scared, soar high, love whenever possible.”

  “Jeez, Mom. Did you chug the yoga holy water today?”

  Sylvia laughed. “Okay, darling. I’ll leave it alone. I believe you’ll find your way. Let’s go drag Kate away from Arturo, and we’ll treat ourselves to some facials.”

  On impulse, Waverly pulled her mom in for a hug. “Thank you for being here.”

  Sylvia smiled sadly. “I wish it wouldn’t be so new for us. But I’ll take what I can get.”

  “I think I love him, Mom.”

  “I know, sweetheart.”

  Kate poked her head in the studio door.

  “Well, you look wrung out,” Sylvia commented.

  “Arturo and his magical hands. I swear to God that man must have been a baker in a previous life. He had hands like a dough kneader,” Kate sighed.

  Sylvia laughed. “If you girls will excuse me, I’m going to visit the ladies’ room, and then I’ll meet you for facials.”

  As soon as Sylvia breezed out of the studio, Kate’s expression went serious. “I have interesting news.”

  “Dante?” Waverly asked.

  Kate shook her head. “No, more Xavier-related.”

  “What is it?”

  “Calla Cabot. She wants a meeting with you.”

  Waverly’s eyes widened. Calla Cabot was the woman Xavier had dated seriously after their breakup. Waverly had spent an embarrassing number of hours poring over pictures of Calla and Xavier together and the woman’s social media accounts.

  “What does she want?”

  Kate shrugged. “She didn’t say. Just said she’d be grateful if you could set aside a few minutes for her today.”

  --------

  Waverly walked into the Polo Lounge at precisely three o’clock. The hunter green walls and plaid carpet gave the large room the requisite equestrian feel. It wasn’t too busy yet, so it was easy to spot Calla at a small two top table in the corner.

  It was odd seeing someone in the flesh after spending so much time studying them onscreen, Waverly thought. Though it was a common feeling in L.A. where you spent years worshiping actors from afar only to run into them at the next booth in your favorite restaurant.

  With Calla it was different. She cut her hair, Waverly noted. Before she’d worn her blonde tresses long with a touch of waves. Now, she rocked a short, sleek pixie cut that angled across her forehead with a sexy sweep. She was tall and slim with a pert nose and a dimple in her chin. Her eyes were gray as storm clouds and currently taking in Waverly.

  Waverly patted herself on the back for having the spa give her the full works for hair and makeup and wished she’d worn a more formal outfit. Her suede booties, distressed jeans, and white tunic blouse were far more casual than Calla’s simple gray suit.

  The woman rose as Waverly approached.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” Calla said, coming to her feet and extending her hand. “You’re even more gorgeous than I was expecting.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Waverly said, grasping her hand in a firm shake.

  “Please, sit,” Calla said, gesturing at the empty chair.

  Waverly sank down keeping her chair angled to the room.

  “I’m sure you’re curious why I reached out to you,” Calla began. She tugged at one of the simple platinum hoops in her ears, and Waverly realized the woman was as nervous as she was.

  “I’m guessing it has to do with Xavier,” Waverly confessed.

  Calla nodded briskly. “I’m sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong. But because I care about Xavier, I told myself it’s warranted.”

  A waiter appeared and took their drink orders, hot tea for Calla and sparkling water for Waverly.

  Calla waited until the waiter left before pressing on. “I saw you both on Max Heim’s show last night. And I’m not going to pretend to understand the ins and outs of relationships in Hollywood. But I hope you’re not playing him against your old boyfriend.”

  Waverly’s eyebrows winged up.

  “I really don’t want to come across like a hard ass,” Calla said, “But I can’t stand the idea of Xavier getting hurt because of some publicity game or whatever it is.”

  “You two were serious, weren’t you?” Waverly asked steering the conversation away from Dante.

  “I thought we were more serious than he did,” Calla said honestly. “I loved him, but he never got over you. So part of me hates your guts, part of me is thrilled that he’s getting a second shot with you, and part of me wants to make it very clear that I don’t want you taking his feelings lightly.”

  “You still care about him,” Waverly said, stating the obvious fact.

  “I think you do, too,” Calla said with a wry smile. “I fell hard for him, but I think from the beginning I knew Xavier wasn’t going to be it for me. I’d hoped with time he’d be able to move on and open up. But…” she shook her head. “He’s a good man.”

  “He is. He’s in a league of his own,” Waverly agreed.

  The waiter returned with their drinks and disappeared again, sensing this was not a table to hover over.

  Calla sighed. “I’m just going to go ahead and put it all out there, okay?”

  “Go for it.”

  “He never talked about you or what happened that night. But he had dreams. He’d say your name in his sleep over and over again.”

  Waverly grimaced. “That couldn’t have felt good.”

  “It stung,” Calla agreed. “He thinks he’s not worthy of you because he didn’t protect you.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Waverly muttered. “He saved my life. I wouldn’t be sitting here today if it weren’t for him, and he should know that.”

  “He’s not stupid, but he’s—”

  “Irresponsibly mule-headed?” Waverly supplied.

  Calla laughed. “You do know him well.”

  “I thought I did at one time,” Waverly said, stirring the straw through he
r drink. “Things didn’t end well between us.”

  “I gathered that. He loves you the way every woman wants to be loved by a man. And I guess, in a way, I owe you for where I am now.”

  “How’s that?” Waverly asked, leaning in.

  “Once I realized that Xavier’s feelings for you were never going to go away, I realized I wanted to find that with someone. I wanted to find a man who felt that deeply for me.” She held up a hand and flashed her rings. “Married a year last month, and we’re seven weeks pregnant.”

  “Wow,” was all Waverly could say.

  “Yeah. It happened fast, but I recognized it when I felt it. If it hadn’t been for you and Xavier, I might have missed out on this ‘wow.’ Not that I’m naming the baby after either one of you, of course.”

  It was Waverly’s turn to laugh. “I understand.”

  “It’s none of my business what your relationship with Xavier is, but I will say, I hope you give him a chance. A real chance.”

  Waverly bit her lip. “It’s hard for me to trust people. And I’ve never been a second chance kind of girl.”

  “Don’t turn your back on once-in-a-lifetime,” Calla advised. “Especially not when it comes around the second time.”

  Waverly fingered the chain around her neck while Calla sipped her tea and studied her.

  “You know he’s it for you, don’t you?” she asked. “And you’re trying to decide if you can take another kick in the chest if it doesn’t work out again or if you should just settle for something safe.”

  Waverly blinked, and Calla waved her hand between them. “Sorry. I’m a family therapist. Sometimes words of wisdom just spew forth from my mouth.”

  “Remind me to consult with you about all of my future decisions,” Waverly quipped.

  “Maybe just start with this one and go from there,” Calla suggested. “Xavier’s a good man. Anything he does? It’s not to hurt. It’s to protect. That’s how he shows his love.”

  Her mind flashed to their final scene together all those years ago. The pool house, eerily quiet and empty after he left. Was Calla right? Had he left her because he didn’t believe he could protect her anymore?

  Waverly sat back in her chair and held her glass with both hands. “I was insanely jealous of you,” she confessed.

  “Back at you,” Calla said raising her cup in a toast.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  My bed tonight?

  The text from Waverly pulled him out from under hours of work. Xavier had tried to isolate his personal connection to her so he could be objective. But it was an impossibility, and in addition to his anxiety about her dangerous second career, he found a growing pride. She was damn good. So good that, under other circumstances, he would have head hunted her to bring her onboard at Invictus.

  She had instincts and talent, and she’d committed to her training, and it paid off. Not only was she able to successfully build cases and handle assignments, but her gut had told her that something was off with Target.

  And she’d been right.

  Cayman and his team noticed a subtle pattern starting nine months ago. While there were still legitimate investigations that could be traced back to the intelligence community, there were also a handful of assignments that had gone unclaimed by any one organization.

  Waverly had forwarded him some preliminary information on the money trail that her hacker friend had unearthed. The studio was showing some nice profits under “consulting services” with deposits lining up with several of the confirmed jobs. The mystery hacker had also unearthed an account under a shell company in Luxembourg and traced it back to Tomasso.

  Interestingly enough, a deposit in that account lined up with the initial Stepanov assignment Waverly accepted. They’d find more. Xavier was sure of it.

  He texted her back, feeling warmth slide through his belly as he reread her invitation.

  Your bed, your table, and your tub.

  Her response brought a curve to his lips.

  Aren’t we feeling cocky in our prowess? I’ll be home in an hour.

  An hour’s good. I’ll make sure my hands are the only ones you remember on you today.

  He turned back to his screen, prepared to start wrapping up, when something caught his eye.

  Brat5t0rm.

  Waverly’s hacker went by the moniker BratStorm. The anticipation he’d felt moments ago went to ice in his veins. He closed his eyes, opened them again, and refocused on the screen. The tag was still there.

  It couldn’t be a coincidence.

  He’d called his sister Chelsea “bratstorm” since they were both kids, and she’d used every one of her waking moments to annoy him. His sister, the network security administrator. His sister who had hit it off with Waverly when he brought her home all those years ago.

  “Fuck.” He shoved back from his chair and shut the computer down quickly as if he was afraid the information would leak out of the system and go public. His future wife was a spy, and his sister was a freaking hacker. If he found out that his college professor mother moonlighted as a stripper, he was going to lose it.

  He picked up his desk phone.

  “Do you have a profile on this BratStorm?” he asked Cayman when he answered the phone.

  --------

  Waverly was more than ready for him by the time Xavier finally walked in the front door. Not only did she have more money trail news from Chelsea, but her body was revved for him. She’d chosen her lingerie carefully. The black Agent Provocateur bodysuit was cut low at the breast and high on the hip. She topped it with an open flutter sleeve robe and left her hair down and curling past her shoulders.

  When he let himself in, Waverly perched on the arm of the couch in the great room. And when he spotted her, he tossed the files he carried onto the table and didn’t slow his speed. He knocked her backward over the cushions and followed to cover her body with his.

  She lost her breath when he kissed her fiercely. There was anger in the kiss, a roiling, dangerous rage that she didn’t understand. But she was lost to anything but his touch. He pulled back, and she could see it in his eyes. He was furious but in control. And with those tight strings of control engaged, he traced his fingers over her neck, across her clavicle, and down the plunging V of the body suit to the coin that hung on the long chain.

  She shivered with anticipation when he inched under the lace edge to skim over her full curves. Her nipples pebbled against the gossamer thin material begging for his attention. But he merely circled them with a lazy finger.

  He moved his hand lower to skim over the flat of her stomach to the curve of her hip. He followed the black edge down. Restlessly, she shoved her knee out to the side giving him better access. But when he moved his fingertips over the lace that covered her, it was feather light, and she needed more.

  Waverly flexed against him, begging for the friction that would set her off. He ignored her body’s pleas. Instead he pulled the edges of the body suit’s crotch together over her center and tugged. She gasped when the material bunched and slipped between her slick folds.

  He ran the top of a finger over her bared flesh. Back and forth, he stroked without making the contact she craved. Light strokes that made her beg for more.

  “Please, Xavier.”

  “Please what, Angel?” his voice was mild, but that fire was still in his eyes.

  “Please touch me.”

  “I am touching you. Can’t you feel me?”

  “I need more,” she whispered.

  He was stone hard against her, yet he made no move to free his straining shaft from the confines of his pants. He made no attempt to grind into her with a promise of pleasures to come.

  His finger looped beneath the crotch of her bodysuit and tugged it away from her.

  “God, yes,” she gasped, anticipating what would come next. But nothing did. When he pulled the material to one side, he didn’t plunge his fingers into her. He ignored the slick f
lesh that pleaded for his touch. Instead, he brought his face to her neck and pressed a soft kiss to her pulse there.

  “You know what I love about you, Waverly?”

  She shook her head. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to feel.

  “I love that you trust me.” The bite of his teeth against her throat excited her. But she felt anxiety at his words. He was up to something and was using seduction to get there. Unfortunately, her body didn’t seem to care. It shuddered when the crisp heat of his shirt brushed over her hardened nipples.

  “You do trust me, don’t you?” he murmured. He used his index finger to hook under the lace strap and dragged it from her shoulder. She could see the pulse in his neck as he stared down at her breast. She knew he wanted to dive into her, but something held him back.

  With his palm, Xavier made lazy circles around her breast, again too light to do anything but make her demand more. She arched under him, but he was careful to pull his hips up, denying her the contact her body needed. When he lowered his head to her breast, Waverly rejoiced.

  Until he pressed a chaste kiss to the upper curve. He circled her nipple with soft kisses, never getting close enough to the straining peak.

  “You trust me enough to tell me if you or anyone else I love is in trouble.”

  Uh-oh. She shivered as his lips skimmed closer. “Of course,” she whispered.

  “Or if they were doing something they shouldn’t be, something illegal.”

  She had trouble concentrating on his words. Her breast and sex were bared to him, waiting, craving. The throb between her legs continued to grow more powerful. But she knew what he was asking. Chelsea. He’d figured it out somehow, and he was mad enough to kill them both.

  She shot her hand down to cup him through his pants and felt a small spot of dampness. He wanted her, damn it. He wanted her so badly he was leaking, but he was happy to torture them both instead.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, playing dumb.