Recovery Road – Torpedo Ink Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
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“There is nothing usual about Hannah Drake Harrington’s Floating Hat tea shop,” Master said. “And there’s nothing usual about her. She’s married to the local sheriff, Jonas. You met him. Hannah was a model at one time and some nutcase attacked her, slashed her up with a knife, nearly killed her. No one really knows how she managed to survive, but Jonas never left her side. I don’t think he does much leaving her side as it is now.”

He gave her one of his slow, genuine smiles that reached his eyes and warmed them. When that happened, Ambrie melted inside. Master didn’t smile often. Even if he did, it wasn’t ever real. Not like this. Not looking straight at her and letting her know she was his everything. She liked when he shared little things with her, little pieces of information on people and places he knew in the community.

“You like the sheriff.”

“We won’t say that. We definitely won’t say I like his deputy.”

“Jackson. The hot deputy we sang about.”

“Never admit we did that.”

She burst out laughing. “You don’t think he’s going to recognize Seychelle’s very distinctive voice? Or the band? Or Rashad? Seriously? Most of Torpedo Ink sang the chorus. And they did it loudly and with great enthusiasm. I think Jackson, the hot deputy, is going to know.”

“He’ll know, but we never admit to anything,” Master counseled. “As for the tea shop, this is going to be your favorite refuge. According to all the women, Player, Preacher and Savage, it’s the only place to come for anything you need.”

“Player, Preacher and Savage come here too?”

“Yep. Often. Player claims that’s how he got out of trouble with his lady. He came here for advice and got the right gifts for his woman.”

“And Preacher?”

“He’s our chemist. He has a gift and recognized that Hannah has a very powerful gift. Apparently, he drives Jonas crazy by coming around looking for lessons in the craft.”

“Why the name Floating Hat?” Ambrielle indicated the chain of bells hanging on the door in the shape of little hats.

“There’s talk that Jonas likes to wear hats, which I do know is true. When his woman gets annoyed with him, his hat seems to get blown off his head in a wind and taken down the road just out of reach or out toward the bluffs.”

Ambrielle pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at the idea of it. “Handy trick to have. I wonder what she could teach me.”

He wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her close to kiss the top of her head. She loved when he did that. She felt as if she belonged with him, not to mention her body immediately reacted in a good way, making her very aware she was alive.

“You don’t need any more tricks. You’ve got me wrapped around your little finger as it is. The brothers are going to start giving me a bad time if it gets any worse.” Master nuzzled the top of her head with his chin so that strands of her hair got caught in the stubble on his jaw. “Let’s go in.”

The compulsion to go inside had continued to grow stronger as they stood in front of the shop. The owner sounded so intriguing and cool. Ambrie wanted to meet her, and she was really looking forward to seeing Seychelle again. It was just that, once inside, Master would leave her and she wasn’t certain she could breathe without him. She tightened her grip on his arm, an automatic reaction she couldn’t stop.

“Princess, I really don’t mind canceling or postponing the appointment. It’s bullshit anyway. I’ve had so many of these. They’re just going to biopsy the polyps and tell me they’re benign. Most likely I’ll have to have them removed. It’s a thing, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

His voice was a hoarse rasp. Sexy, yes, but not good when she knew why it was that way. Still, he was the same. Ready to push his health problems aside in order to reassure her.

Ambrielle leaned into the tower of his strength. He was solid. All muscle. But it really wasn’t about the way he was built. She was coming to understand that. It wasn’t even about that stone-cold killer she’d first recognized in the chapel when she’d chosen to marry him. It was the real strength in him—that quiet dependability she could always count on no matter what was happening around them. No matter what chaos ensued. He was the calm in the middle of a storm.

His throat was something to worry about. The doctor wouldn’t take biopsies if cancer wasn’t a concern. She reached up and stroked his throat with the pads of her fingers, wishing she could cure him with a touch. With the intensity of her feelings for him.


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