Night Rogues [Night 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Night 1

  Night Rogues

  Unable to control the psychic abilities, Serena Abbott spends her life alone. Her visions always come true, as do the dreams that plague her sleep. She will soon meet the man who will be her lover.

  Ian and Alastair Wyndham live dual lives as both millionaire playboys and freelance agents who don’t always find it necessary to play by the rules to bring justice to those who attempt to live their lives above the law.

  Meeting Serena, a woman who sees and knows too much, changes everything, putting their livelihood, and their lives, in danger.

  Taking her prisoner is easy. Fighting their attraction to her proves to be considerably more difficult. Keeping her safe will be even harder, especially when their current target wants to use Serena’s abilities to his own advantage.

  Together, the three of them find a connection they never expected, and a love they've never known.

  Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.

  Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal

  Length: 82,074 words

  NIGHT ROGUES

  Night 1

  Leah Brooke

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  NIGHT ROGUES

  Copyright © 2012 by Leah Brooke

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-026-1

  First E-book Publication: December 2012

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Night Rogues by Leah Brooke from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Leah Brooke’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Brooke’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  NIGHT ROGUES

  Night 1

  LEAH BROOKE

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  She looked up, her breath catching, her insides quivering with an excitement that she couldn’t contain.

  All of her senses came alive, bombarding her system with sensations she’d never felt before.

  Except in the dreams that invaded her sleep each and every night.

  He was here.

  His presence made her heart leap with excitement and her skin prickle with an awareness she only experienced with him.

  She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t need to. She needed only him.

  Her skin prickled everywhere as it did each time she saw him, the anticipation making her heart race, beating nearly out of her chest.

  Although she’d been expecting him, his appearance never failed to alarm her. Thrill her.

  Nothing would ever be the same for her again.

  Dressed in fine clothes, others surrounded him, but they blurred and dimmed until she saw only him. In contrast, he remained in sharp focus, so sharp it almost hurt her eyes to look at him.

  It didn’t matter. She couldn’t tear her gaze away.

  She could look at him forever.

  His black tuxedo had been tailored to mold his tall, muscular frame to perfection, the light glinting off of the expensive gold watch at his wrist. He embodied cool sophistication and raw sexuality from his slightly bored expression to the tips of his designer shoes.

  Gorgeous.

  The civilized veneer, though, did nothing to disguise the tightly leashed power beneath it. The raw, primitive strength, barely contained, showed in his every movement.

  His shoulder-length tawny hair reminded her of a stalking lion, as did the effortless grace with which he moved. Bending to hear what someone said to him, he tilted his head slightly, his hooded gaze alert and always shifting.

  Even standing so far away, she could see that his polite smile didn’t reach his eyes—eyes that smoldered with something that sent a rush of warmth through her—making her feel both safe and vulnerable at the same time.

  Her nipples pebbled beneath the bodice of her dress, becoming more sensitive with every brush of the slippery material over them.

  He straightened, towering over everyone. Even surrounded by others, he stood alone.

  He looked slightly bored, but she knew that not a single detail escaped that sharp, golden gaze. He kept his confident stride relaxed as he moved through the crowd, but she knew just how quickly he could strike without warning. His eyes kept moving as though searching for something. Or someone.

  Her. He was looking for her.

  Even with all of the other women vying for his attention, he looked for her.

  Tense with anticipation and nerves, she clenched her fists, drawing a shaky breath.

  And waited.

  Her pussy clenched incessantly with need for the man who would change her life.

  As though sensing her presence, he stilled, every line of his body stiff with tension. Turning slightly, he froze as his eyes locked on hers, the ice in them chilling her to the bone.

  In that moment, something shifted inside her and she knew her life would never be the same.

  His razor-sharp gaze swept over her from head to toe, making her entire body burn with an unfamiliar heat that sent her senses soaring. The sharp contrast to the ice in his eyes made her gasp and reach out for support.

  She couldn’t
look away, caught in some kind of web she had no chance of escaping.

  Even from this distance his heat scorched her, branding her as his forever.

  He started toward her, each stride full of purpose.

  Taking a deep breath, she straightened and faced her destiny.

  Serena Abbott jolted upright with a gasp, quickly scanning her bedroom as though her dream man would appear out of thin air.

  Pressing a hand to her thudding heart, she closed her eyes, wanting to savor the memory of his presence for as long as she could, before facing the reality of her lonely existence again.

  Here, and in her dreams, she could enjoy his presence. It was safe here.

  She’d never met him, but belonged to him with every fiber of her being.

  She yearned for his touch, craved the feel of his arms around her.

  But, only here where it was safe.

  She knew that destiny couldn’t be denied and that she would meet him soon. The thought of it both exhilarated her and scared her to death.

  Here, in the safety of her room, she could pretend that when she met him, everything would be all right. Here, she could imagine what it would be like to have a man to spend her life with, one who would hold her in the early hours of the morning, and late at night—one who would whisper words of love to her—words not tainted with vicious and selfish thoughts pouring from him.

  Being psychic had ruined her life.

  With a sigh that sounded suspiciously like a whimper, she opened her eyes, forcing herself to face the day without him.

  She couldn’t help searching her room for any sign of him, imagining what it would be like to wake to a man as big and powerful as the one in her dreams, a man who looked at her as though she was the most important and precious person in his life.

  Even though it stormed outside, faint morning light came in through the French doors, allowing her to see every corner clearly. She knew he wouldn’t be there, just as he hadn’t been there over the last several weeks of searching. She didn’t really expect him to be there. After all, she only saw him in her dreams.

  Still, her heart sank, the disappointment and sense of loss almost overwhelming.

  Falling back onto her pillow, she turned to her side and curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around herself. The same dream had plagued her for months, each time becoming sharper and clearer than the last.

  Each dream brought her closer and closer to the man she wanted more than she wanted her next breath, a man who could take her in his arms and ease the loneliness she’d lived with for too long.

  Her mother had died right after Serena’s high school graduation, and Serena had been alone ever since. That had been eight years ago.

  She was only twenty-four, but felt much older.

  Painting wasn’t enough to fill her days anymore.

  She had no friends, and her cousin and aunt were her only family, but she hadn’t seen or heard from either one of them since her mother’s funeral.

  Until last weekend, when her cousin had called and begged her to come to New York for her wedding.

  Since that phone call, the dreams became sharper, and lasted much longer.

  The implication of that both frightened and excited her.

  She would be meeting him soon. She didn’t question it at all. It would happen. Her visions and dreams had never been wrong.

  Fate couldn’t be denied.

  She would meet him, and he would learn about her abilities and consider her a freak.

  He would either want to use or exploit her, and she would know. Although she didn’t know his thoughts in her dreams, when she met him, she would.

  And it would break her heart.

  Sitting up, she threw the covers aside, rubbing her arms as a chill went through her that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room.

  She reached for her comfort sweater, a fuzzy orange one her mother had knitted for her just months before she’d died. She had to take several deep calming breaths before she could lie back and examine the dream more objectively. The background of the dream had grown sharper every day, letting her see bits and pieces that she hadn’t seen before.

  The dream took place while she stood in a room full of people, something she hadn’t done in years. She seldom even left her house anymore except to walk on the beach.

  Tonight, though, she would attend her cousin’s wedding. The reception would take place in one of New York’s finest luxury hotels, a far cry from her beach house in North Carolina.

  She would fly up today.

  She dreaded it. She dreaded the crowds of people who would be around her at both the airport and at the reception.

  But, she hadn’t been able to say no.

  She couldn’t give up hope that she and her cousin could become friends.

  Closing her eyes on a sigh, she tried to resign herself to the inevitable.

  Her dreams, every one of them, came true. Tonight she would meet the powerful, golden man, the man who terrified her as much as he thrilled her.

  The man who would be her lover.

  * * * *

  Accepting the plain, brown folder, Alastair Wyndham lowered himself into the comfortable leather chair in front of Jonathan Grimes’s heavy, antique desk. He opened it and began to flip through the contents, glancing up at the only man in the world, other than his brother, whom he trusted.

  “I like it better when we meet at your house. Your secretary gets meaner every day.”

  Jonathan chuckled and glanced toward the closed door.

  “Pamela thinks you’re too handsome for your own good, and that you’re wasting your life. She hates playboys, especially rich ones, and thinks every man should be married. She never stops parading her single friends in front of me, and no matter how often I tell her I’m happy being a bachelor, she insists that men need a woman in their lives.”

  Alastair smiled, amused at Pamela’s distaste for the image it had taken him and his brother years to perfect. “The thought gives me hives.” He flipped another page and stilled, his amusement forgotten.

  Jonathan’s chair creaked as he settled back, hardly audible over the roaring in Alastair’s head. “Besides, my man just came through with this information, and I wanted to give it to you before you crash Carello’s wedding reception tonight.”

  Nodding, Alastair attempted to keep his expression one of mild interest as he stared down at a photo of a woman sitting on a beach, tightening his grip on the arm of the chair as the world tilted beneath his feet.

  Dressed in shorts and a hooded sweatshirt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen looked directly into the camera, giving him the odd sensation that she was staring straight at him.

  His mind went blank.

  It took several precious seconds of staring down at the photo before he could force himself to focus. When he did, he realized the picture had to have been taken with a telephoto lens, but she appeared to have known of its presence. A look of mild irritation showed on her face, but did nothing to detract from her stunning looks.

  Her long black hair hung loose and shiny down her back, a few tendrils around her face blowing in the breeze, and he knew, knew it would feel like silk flowing through his fingers. Her creamy skin would be as soft as velvet, the scent of it delicious and sweet.

  He had no idea how he knew these things, but he would bet everything he owned that he was right.

  She didn’t have the flashy beauty that usually attracted him, but her features were perfect. From her high cheekbones and full, sensuous lips, to eyes the most incredible violet he’d ever seen, she had to be the most stunningly beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life.

  Understated. Irresistible. Breathtaking.

  Mine.

  He bit back a groan as he studied her luscious, pink lips, willing to kill for the opportunity to crush them beneath his, knowing, knowing they would be as soft as rose petals.

  But those eyes…

  He’d never before seen eyes quite that
color. They shone a violet blue, like a summer sky after a rain, so blue he couldn’t look away. Framed by thick black lashes, they somehow held both innocence and reluctant awareness, and tinged with a sadness he’d do anything in his power to wipe away.

  What the fuck’s wrong with you?

  Taking a deep breath, he blew it out slowly. Nothing. Shut up.

  “Wyn?”

  Blinking once, he came back to the present, carefully schooling his features before meeting Jonathan’s worried frown. He shifted his position, the stirring in his groin making it difficult to get comfortable. “So, this is Elise Sandstrom’s cousin, the artist?”

  Jonathan eyed him thoughtfully before looking down at his own folder. “Yes. Serena Abbott. She’s booked at the same hotel where the reception is scheduled to be held. She…interests me. I want to know more about her.” Tossing the folder onto his desk, he leaned back, folding his hands over a stomach flat from daily workouts. Except for a few strands of gray in his dark hair, he looked the same as he did when Alastair first met him almost five years ago. The same sharp eyes that scared the hell out of businessmen and employees all over the world narrowed as he gestured toward the folder. “You have a strange look on your face. Do you know her?”

  Annoyed at himself for revealing anything, Alastair shook his head. Closing the folder against further distraction, he shook his head again and sat back, struggling against the irrational jealousy burning in his gut. “No. Of course not. What do you mean, she interests you?”

  Serena. Even her name was beautiful, and conjured images of silky skin on satin sheets. The idea that Jonathan might want her consumed him with jealousy, an emotion as foreign to him as love.