Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 158191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 791(@200wpm)___ 633(@250wpm)___ 527(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 791(@200wpm)___ 633(@250wpm)___ 527(@300wpm)
“It’s over,” Absinthe assured. “Whoever did this has nothing to do with you, Scarlet. You’re safe with us. You’ve got a life here with me.” He pressed his lips right over the pulse in her neck. It wasn’t even elevated. She was damn good at what she did. He was proud of her.
“How do you know this person hasn’t fixated on me and isn’t going to try to kill you or …” Scarlet trailed off and waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the clubhouse.
“I’m sorry, Absinthe, Scarlet. We have to ask a few questions and then we’ll get out of your hair.”
Jonas was skilled at interrogation, sounding friendly, asking Scarlet questions about anyone she knew who might have shown interest in the trial and/or thought it had been unfair. Had anyone written to her in prison on a regular basis? The interview lasted nearly an hour. In all that time, Scarlet acted by turns frightened or upset.
In the end, Jonas and Jackson seemed satisfied that they knew nothing at all about the murders and that there was no way they had been anywhere near the Bay Area during the time the men had been killed. Jonas told them that detectives from the Bay Area assigned to the case most likely would want to talk to Scarlet themselves at some point in their investigation, but not to worry too much about it.
Absinthe walked the two men to the door, accepted their apologies and took his wife back to bed, grateful he’d been awakened in the middle of the night so he had the chance to take his time making love to her.
TWENTY
Scarlet was so excited she was nearly jumping up and down, waiting for him to sling his leg over the Harley and make his way up to the house. Perversely, Absinthe wanted to take his time and just enjoy the show she was putting on for him. She looked so beautiful, her face lit up, happiness giving her a carefree, even younger appearance.
He had taken his time making his way on the bike from the clubhouse to their home, using the twisting back roads rather than utilizing Highway 1 to take a shorter route. Normally, Scarlet loved every moment she could have on the motorcycle with him, her arms locked around him, hands at his waist, sometimes sliding lower to tease him, but this time, she hissed in his ear to hurry, which only made him slow down, joy spreading through his gut at her reaction.
Her entire body vibrated with eagerness. She was nearly as coiled with tension and ready to explode as when he played deliberate sexual games with her body. He loved playing. Prolonging that tension. Stretching that time out until he could hear and see and feel her need for him. Right now—and it had never happened before without sex being involved—the tension felt the same way. Whatever Scarlet had done for him mattered so much to her that he knew even if he didn’t like it, he was going to find a way to love it because she had cared this much to give it to him.
Scarlet had talked him into staying at the clubhouse with her for the last three weeks while Maestro, Master, Player and Keys renovated their house at her direction. He hadn’t been allowed to go near it. His brothers had been closed-mouth, refusing to tell him one single thing about what she was up to with her surprise remodel. She’d been the one to design everything and had worked closely with his four brothers. They grinned at him a lot, but they continued to be tight-lipped even when he’d made a halfhearted attempt to bribe them.
She said the renovation was a birthday gift. He reminded her his birthday was a few months earlier. She just laughed and said that didn’t matter, that only meant it was a belated birthday present and she just owed him all the more. Now, watching her hop from one foot to the other while he straddled the Harley, pretending to fiddle with one of the compartments while she was bursting with impatience, it was all he could do to keep a straight face.
“Absinthe.”
He glanced up. Casually. One eyebrow lifted. Bog. She was so beautiful she took his breath. The sun hadn’t yet set, although the fog was beginning to creep in, little fingers of mist drifting on the wind. The rays of the sun caught the brilliant red of her hair, turning it into flashes of ruby, reminding him of the gemstones in the furred tails Ice had made for them. He wasn’t certain she would ever play his kiska again for him and he knew he needed that kitten in his bed at times. He hadn’t brought himself to talk to her about it, not after the disaster of their wedding night.