Betrayal Road – Torpedo Ink Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
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What did it matter if they knew he was making a complete fool of himself? Azelie was worth taking the risk.

She leaned her chin into the heel of her hand. “I don’t find you difficult. You think you’re far more difficult than you are. I like that you take the lead. Are you aware you always ask me first? You just did it here. You asked if you could order for me. Then you reassured me that if I didn’t like what you ordered, we could order something else. Not that I would want to throw away the food. I know a few people who go hungry sometimes.”

Of course she would know people who went hungry. He was beginning to realize Azelie would make it her business to watch over street people. “How often do you feed them?” The sincerity in her voice when she said she didn’t find him difficult went a long way toward making him feel better about what he had planned for her.

Color swept up her neck to turn her face that rose color he liked. He found everything about her adorable. Azelie pushed at the hair tumbling around her face, tucking wild strands behind her ear. They were never going to stay, but he thought it was sexy. And cute.

“I don’t cook for other people that much. If I have extra, I take it down the street to some of the kids. It would be silly to throw it away when others need to eat.” She sounded defiant, as if she expected him to judge her harshly.

“Baby, I love that you do that. Did someone make fun of you for helping others? You sound as if you expected me to think you were being silly. It’s admirable. One of my brothers from the school in Russia is with a woman who was raised in homeless shelters. She really looks after the homeless and has made all of us aware of how to take care of those living in bad situations. I admire the fact that you give what aid you can.”

“I don’t know why I always expect the worst from everyone.” She sent him a look from under her eyelashes. “See? I’m not an angel. I think the worst of people.”

“You don’t, Zelie. You look for the best in others, and because you do, you find it. You have a sunny personality and people gravitate toward you.”

That soft flush was back in her cheeks. “You have a way of saying the loveliest things to me. I’m not used to it, so I never know what to say, except thank you.”

“Thank you is perfect.”

“But it doesn’t convey how I feel about you. Or the way you make me feel. Like bringing me here. This is such a cool place.” She looked around her. “It’s packed,” Azelie pointed out. “Crazy packed. Like all the cool people come here. How did you find this club? Is it just the fact that you’re hot as hell and cool as they come? Do they have a secret message they send out to the cool kids to invite them? Do you have a code to get in? A secret handshake?”

He found himself laughing. She made life fun. He’d sat in the club dozens of times and enjoyed the music and food, but he hadn’t laughed. He hadn’t looked around and noted the celebrities or the couples whispering to one another over their drinks. He just hadn’t been alive.

Lana and her brother, Preacher, had come in. Master, Keys and Player followed. His three bandmates were seated at a table near the bar. Lana and Preacher were given a table for four in the shadows but close to the piano, exactly where they had asked to be seated when they made the reservations. Management was very aware one of the Crows Flying members had a special surprise for his lady. They were being extremely cooperative. It wasn’t often they were able to get the band to come in and play.

Crows Flying stayed close to home. They were an internet sensation thanks to modern technology, but they didn’t often take gigs outside of the roadhouse. They recorded, but only for themselves. Since Seychelle had been with them, lending her gorgeous voice, they’d made several new recordings, and all of them had ended up on the internet. For sale. Maestro suspected Code had something to do with it, but he never asked.

“I love music, and good musicians come here to play. I’m in a band called Crows Flying. We’ll be playing tonight; that’s your surprise. Part of it, anyway.”

Her eyes went wide with shock and excitement. “Seriously? You’re going to play here tonight?” She looked around the room again. “Did all these people come to hear you play?”

“We have a small following.”

“Why haven’t I heard of you?”


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