Sainted – The Invincibles Book 8 By Heather Slade

Sainted
The Invincibles Book 8
By
USA Today Bestselling Author
Heather Slade

1cf2a-addtogoodreads

He’s a playboy MI6 agent
trying to change his ways.
She’s a future minister jilted at the altar.
Together, they’re INVINCIBLE.

SAINT

I’ve got a reputation to mend—a lifestyle to correct. Hell, I’m no saint; I like my women. But I want this job more than anything. Walking the straight and narrow is going to be hard, but being an INVINCIBLE is even harder. But the hardest job of all: not torturing the deadbeat thug who left a beautiful and innocent woman high and dry.

HARPER

Jilted, alone, and totally broke. Stranded in a foreign country was not exactly my fantasy honeymoon. Yet here I am with no clue how to get out of this. And then out of nowhere, I’m gifted a miracle in the shape of a strong, sexy, and stubborn MI6 agent who insists on being my knight in shining armor. Whoever said that the sinners are much more fun have never met SAINT.

Harper had done something a bit spontaneous after being left at the alter. She decides to go on the honeymoon alone. She’s figures either David would show up or the seat next to her would be empty. Instead a very handsome Englishman takes the seat.

Nivan ‘Saint’ St. Thomas, was fortunate there was a cancellation. He’d been going to ask ‘Money’ McTiernan for help to find Jinyan Tai Man, but when he realized his assistant was the woman he was with the night before, he changed his mind.

The two of them enjoy conversation as they learn about each other. He’s surprised to find she has her degree in Christian Leadership, just as she’s surprised he’s former MI6. When they land he still has some identification that speeds them both through customs and he insists on taking her to her hotel.

That’s where everything begins to go south.

This is a favorite scene.

While Saint had said he was no longer employed by MI6, he still carried some kind of credential that got us through customs in record time. At least that’s what he’d said. I had no way of knowing how long something like that would normally have taken in a place as busy as Heathrow.

He insisted I allow him to take me to the hotel. An older man drove us and when we arrived at the Savoy, Saint also insisted on coming in while I checked in. Maybe I was foolish to be so trusting of a man I’d just met, and on a plane no less. But there was something about him that made me feel safe. More, if it came down to it, I innately knew Saint would protect me.

Unlike my experience with customs, it seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time for the man at the front desk to find my reservation.

“I’m terribly sorry, miss, but I can’t find a reservation for either Godfrey or Lipscomb.”

“I don’t understand. I have a confirmation number.”

He pounded away on the computer keyboard for several more minutes and sighed when Saint, who had excused himself to the gentlemen’s room, returned and inquired about the holdup.

“As I’ve told Miss Lipscomb—”

“Godfrey,” Saint and I said at the same time.

“Right. There is no reservation. From what I can find, it appears it was canceled more than two weeks ago.”

Two weeks?” The words hurt even worse than Mouse telling me Dave had changed his mind about getting married. If he canceled the hotel two weeks ago, he’d known then he had no intention of going through with our wedding.

“You have no rooms available?” Saint asked.

“Completely booked, as are most of the hotels this week.”

“Understood.” Saint led me away from the desk and over to a seating area. “I’m afraid—”

I put my hand on his arm. “I’ve already decided what I’ll do.”

He raised a brow. “You have?”

“It’s easy. I’ll take a cab back to the airport and go home. I shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

“That seems a bit extreme. I’m sure we can find someplace for you to stay so you can at least see London.”

“I’d rather go home.”

He sighed. “Very well, but let’s make arrangements from here. You may not be able to catch a flight out until tomorrow.”

I didn’t know what I’d do if that were the case. However, trying to book a flight from here would be far easier than attempting to navigate an airport as big as Heathrow. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

I pulled out my laptop, connected to the public Wi-Fi, opened my email, and searched for my flight information.

“I don’t understand,” I mumbled when I logged into the airline’s website and searched my confirmation number.

“What?”

“It says the reservation was for a one-way flight. It didn’t say this earlier. I swear it didn’t.”

“Let me see.” Saint took the laptop from my hands and tapped the keyboard. “It appears your return flight was canceled while you were en route.”

“I can’t believe this.” I pulled out my wallet, trying my hardest to get through this without falling apart. “I’ll just buy my own ticket home.”

“No doubt it will be quite pricey at the last minute.”

“No more expensive than staying on here a few more days.”

“True.”

He handed me back my computer and I searched for the cheapest flight I could find. I hit the reserve button before I could talk myself out of it. I knew it would be a far cry from the first class experience I’d just had but I didn’t care. I’d been foolish to get on the plane in the first place. The sooner I was back home, the sooner I could get on with the rest of my life— without Dave in it. Mouse had certainly been right when she called him douchey. Although right now, the words I’d use to describe him were far worse.

With every number of my credit card I entered in, I hit the keys harder. He had to have known I got on the plane, what was now, yesterday. Had he so little regard for me that he couldn’t allow me a ticket home?

I entered my card’s expiration date and security number and waited while the payment was processing. I still had no idea what I’d do until flight time tomorrow, but I’d figure that out in a minute.

My laptop pinged and a red message flashed on the screen. “Payment declined.” As hard as I’d been hitting the keyboard, I’d probably entered the number wrong. But after I reentered it, the same thing happened.

“This can’t be right.” I logged into my credit card company’s website to check my limit, which I knew was far more than the price of the ticket. “Available credit is zero?” I said, not intending to out loud.

Saint took my laptop from my hands, closed the lid, and leaned it up against the side of his chair.

“What are you doing?”

He took both my hands in his. “I fear there is more you will find that will be very upsetting. Rather than do this here, I’m taking you to my flat.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Let’s go, Harper.” He picked up my computer, stuck it in its case, and tucked it under his arm. With the other hand, he grabbed my suitcase and walked toward the door. Once outside, he motioned for his driver to open the back and shoved my belongings inside, before ushering me into the car.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” I said a few minutes into our silent drive.

“We’ll be at the flat in a few minutes and we’ll talk then.” He motioned to the man in the front seat and I nodded.

“Where are we?” I asked when we pulled up in front of a crescent-shaped building that looked more like a hotel than a place where someone lived.

“My flat is on the top floor.”

Saint got my bags, and his, out of the car, refusing to let me help him. I followed him in through doors that led to a lobby not unlike the one we’d been in at the hotel— except there was no visible front desk— and over to a bank of elevators. He seemed preoccupied, which made me feel worse about dumping more of my burdens on his shoulders. I just got the feeling that saying so wouldn’t make it better.

Once in the elevator, he set the bag he’d been carrying in his right hand down and pressed his palm to a flat piece of glass. He left it there until we started to move.

The doors opened directly into a foyer where Saint dropped our bags.

“May I use the ladies’ room?”

“Of course. My apologies.” He showed me down a hallway. “First door on your right.”

When I came out, he had poured two drinks, handed one to me, and motioned for me to be seated.

“I’m going to ask you a question that may seem intrusive.”

“Go ahead.”

“Did you and Lipscomb share financial accounts?”

“Not until recently.”

“When specifically?”

What he was suggesting dawned on me and my stomach sank. “A month ago.”

He nodded. “Were your assets significant?”

“Not really. I had some savings— a small inheritance from my grandmother.”

Saint leaned forward and placed his hand on top of mine, a look I couldn’t quite decipher on his face. “I suspect you may find your credit cards maxed out and your funds withdrawn from the accounts.”

The pit that had sunk my stomach was growing into a rock. As much as I didn’t want to look to confirm his suspicions, I knew I had to.

When I stood to get my laptop, Saint reached out and grabbed my wrist. “You don’t need to do this now.”

“I do.”

He nodded, stood, walked into another room, and returned seconds later. “Wi-Fi info,” he said, handing me a piece of paper.

I murmured my thanks, hoping what Saint suggested about the state of my finances was wrong, even though in my gut I somehow knew he was right.

Sure enough, Dave had withdrawn almost every penny sometime yesterday. What in God’s name would I do now?

My laptop slid to the floor with a thud. I put my head in my hands and cried.
Heather Slade. Sainted (Kindle Locations 341-414). The Invincibles Book Eight.

Saint is more than helpful and encourages Harper to stay for a while in England while he finds out where her money is.

I love the way these two fall for each other, while the attraction has been there since they met, it grows rapidly as Saint shows her London and some of the surrounding areas. Including the area where he grew up and an introduction to a Vicar who could use some help.

This book is lots of fun, with a bit of political intrigue, and just a touch of sizzle.

5 Contented Purrs for Heather!

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Heather Slade

My books are filled with things that bring me joy: music, wine, skiing, families, artists, and cowboys. Not always in that order.

I’m an Amazon best-selling author, and a PAN member of Romance Writers of America. I speak, teach, blog, am an executive sommelier, and all-around entrepreneur.

I grew up an east coast girl, and then spent half my life on the west coast. Now my husband, our two boys, and I happily call Colorado home.


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