By Sin to Atone (Sinners Duet #1) Read Online Natasha Knight

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Sinners Duet Series by Natasha Knight
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Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
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A steamy, Forced Proximity Secret Society Romance by Bestselling Author Natasha Knight.

I crossed him. Now he owns me.

When I tried to blackmail Ezekiel St. James, I thought it would be easy.

Turns out I had no idea who I was dealing with.

The moment his steel-grey eyes locked on mine, I knew the game was over.

He knew exactly who I was. What I’d done.

And he wasn’t going to let me walk away.

With his immense wealth and power, he had me kidnapped.

He could make me disappear.

I’m no easy prey, though, and it’s not just my life on the line. I have to protect my sister.

But when I’m hurt, he does the unexpected. He takes care of me.

In some twisted way, he sees his atonement in me.

Desperate and vulnerable, I need protection.

He offers his, but his terms are as grey as his morals. I’ll be his in every way.

I accept knowing full well the risk. Because when he touches me, my skin catches fire.

And there’s something inside me that wants to belong to him.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

Ezekiel

I know what you did.

Ice clinks against the crystal tumbler. I lift it to my mouth and sip the whiskey but don’t quite taste it. Don’t quite feel the numbing effects of it.

I read the text message for the hundredth time, tempted to reply, angrily staring at my screen as if it will give me an answer. A name. A fucking face.

I know what you did.

That’s it. Five words accompanied by a newspaper article about the accidental death of my father and his mistress.

Mother. Fucker.

“Mr. St. James?” a woman’s soft, slightly accented voice interrupts.

I shift my gaze up to the server who clears her throat, a blush already creeping along the pale skin of her neck.

Nora.

I check my expression, force a smile.

“Yes, Nora?”

“The gentleman you were expecting is here to see you, sir.”

I glance at my wristwatch and nod to her. That pink hue blooms, coloring her cheeks. She’s sweet. Young. Pretty. Very pretty. And far too inexperienced for her own good. There’s a part of me that knows I should warn her. Tell her to stay away from the men who frequent this club. Men like me. But I’m too selfish for that. And nowhere near good enough to do it.

“Show him to my table.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And make sure we’re not interrupted, will you?”

“Yes, sir.” She turns to go, hesitates.

“What is it, Nora?” I ask, trying to keep the impatience from my tone.

“Um. I was wondering if you’d perhaps need me later?” she asks, a note of optimism in her voice even as she swallows the last part.

That pink deepens to crimson. She’s embarrassed.

“You’re sweet to ask, but no. Not tonight,” I say.

She blinks, looks every which way but at me. “Oh. I…” She finally clears her throat and is able to meet my gaze once more. “I’m sorry, I just⁠—”

“Let’s not keep my guest waiting, Nora. You know how I feel about being made to wait.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” She nearly trips in her rush to get to the door. I don’t even watch her go. I look at my phone instead. At that fucking message that has stolen the little joy I have these days. But when I hear the overly exaggerated twang that can only belong to Robbie Shetland, I tuck the phone into my pocket and watch him enter, charming Nora. He towers over her with his big cowboy boots, the signature fur coat he inherited from his granddaddy, as he likes to tell the story, the black hat still on his head. He catches my eye but there’s no break in his monologue.

The other patrons turn to take in the large, loud American who clearly doesn’t belong. Eden 9.5 is a high-end bar known for its many shadowy corners. It’s tucked in an out-of-the-way alley in Amsterdam’s Red Light District. Hidden in plain sight, it doesn’t draw the multitude of tourists who frequent the district.

Robbie tips his hat to someone whose eye he catches, and I study the way he makes himself appear so casually unaware. So fucking clueless and not at all like the man he is. In reality, I am sure he’s cataloged all the faces in this room already. He has that kind of memory. I’m certain he will know all their names by tomorrow morning.

I stand, adjust a shirtsleeve. The polished Montblanc cufflink gleams when it catches the light.

“Robbie,” I say, stepping around the small table. I extend my hand in greeting. “Pleasure to see you again.”

He shakes my hand. “Pleasure’s all mine,” he says, then turns to Nora. “Truly. All the pleasure is mine.” He bends to kiss the inside of her wrist and I almost roll my eyes.

“Nora if you’ll take Mr. Shetland’s coat and hat?” I ask.

“Yes, sir,” she says as Robbie slips his coat off and hands both it and his hat to her.

“You take good care of that, sweetheart,” he says with a wink.

“I will, sir. Can I bring you anything else?” she asks, but there’s a bottle of whiskey and a second tumbler already waiting on the table.

“Looks like I’ve got everything I need.”

Nora nods, turns and walks away.

Robbie watches her go. “Sweet little piece.”

“Inexperienced,” I tell him.

“Lucky for her, I’m a very patient teacher.” He settles into the chair across from mine.

I take my seat. “Remind me again why you make such a spectacle of yourself,” I say, pouring Robbie a whiskey before picking up my glass and leaning back in the deep, comfortable leather chair.

He glances around the room. Most of the patrons have resumed their conversations although a few still glance his way. He smiles, says a howdy to one, gaze steady. The man who was looking down his nose at Robbie clears his throat and turns away.

“Don’t know what you mean. I’m just a loud American tourist,” he says to me, sipping his drink.


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