Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“You go to your appointment. I’ll be just fine. I’ve really wanted to get to know some of the ladies, so this is a good opportunity for me.” That was the last thing she wanted. Well. She did like Seychelle. Blythe seemed really nice. Soleil had been quiet, but she was married to Ice and probably had interesting stories. Ice seemed quite a character. She had no idea who was going to meet her for tea because she hadn’t really been paying attention.
“You have to stop shaking so I know you mean it, princess,” Master said, smiling down at her. Even his eyes smiled. Maybe not smiled. But they were bright.
She tilted her chin at him. “I’m not shaking.” She was, but she couldn’t stop.
He reached over her head and pushed open the door to the shop. The little hats swung wildly, setting off the bells so they played welcoming notes, announcing their arrival to the shop owner. Just the sound of the bells lightened her mood as Ambrie stepped into the tearoom with Master. The moment she inhaled the wonderful elusive scent that filled the interior, she felt as if she’d entered a magical realm.
On one side of the shop, tables and chairs were set up. There was a large table that could seat six to eight people, but most tables were for four. Some were for two. The mauve chair seats were round and cushioned, and the curved backs were white striped. There were some booths but mostly tables, and those were set far enough apart that it added to the illusion of space. The building went far back from the street and utilized every inch of space for customers.
The other side of the shop was taken up with the most amazing-looking lotions, ointments and displays of various oils and salts. Ambrielle immediately wanted to spend time exploring the riches she was certain were there.
A tall blond woman, extraordinarily beautiful, came toward them, a welcoming smile on her face that managed to turn her blue eyes into sparkling gems. “I’m Hannah,” she said simply. “You must be Ambrie. Master called ahead and said he was bringing you. It’s so lovely to meet you, although I wish it were under better circumstances. I’m so sorry for your losses.”
She extended her hand, and the moment Ambrielle took it, she felt a surge of power unlike anything she’d ever experienced. The energy, completely feminine, seemed to rush over her in a wave. It felt as if Hannah Drake Harrington saw inside of her, into the very mess that even Ambrie couldn’t sort through, where that little girl was still screaming and screaming as she watched her parents die in front of her.
Hannah laid her other hand on top of Ambrielle’s for the briefest of moments and when she did, Ambrie felt some of that terrible turmoil quiet. “Thank you,” she murmured, unable to think of anything else coherent to say.
Hannah turned to Master, her blue eyes now filled with concern. For the first time, Ambrie realized there were others in the shop. A very small woman was at the counter. Jonas Harrington was standing just a few feet away from them with his deputy, Jackson. Two women were across the shop, looking into a basket of soaps.
“Master, you should have come in when your throat first started acting up. I would have made you something to help right away.”
He hadn’t even spoken. How did she know? Ambrielle turned her full attention back to Hannah. And Master came to the shop? He knew Hannah? She couldn’t imagine him coming to the shop.
He shrugged carelessly. “Didn’t have time to talk to Preacher about it yet, ma’am.”
Ambrie’s heart clenched. His voice sounded worse. Had it been that raspy all along? Had she ignored it because she didn’t want him away from her? Was she really that selfish?
Hannah’s large eyes moved over the Torpedo Ink member, not in the least intimidated by his direct, expressionless stare, which was all but telling her not to talk about his throat condition in front of his new wife, the sheriff and his deputy.
“You can’t let that go this long. It’s dangerous. I’m going to fix you something right now that will soothe it. Anat and the others have been going on and on about you singing in their big upcoming church event, but you can’t. You know you can’t. You have to tell her, Master. You’ll ruin your vocal cords.”
“I’ll let her know. I’m looking into finding someone for her,” Master said. He used the same bored tone. Gave her the same look. He really didn’t want to talk about his throat.
Hannah nodded. “Let me just fix you that throat soother while you and Ambrielle look around the shop. I won’t be long.”
“I have an appointment today. Can’t eat or drink anything.” Master sounded very abrupt, almost aggressive.