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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“I do feel a little guilty,” Master admitted as Ambrie walked him to the door. “After he was nice enough to volunteer to find someone to sing at the church event.”

“I thought the church was tiny.”

“It is. But they’re hosting a get-together for a large number of other churches. It’s a potluck. The ladies like that sort of thing. That’s why it’s a big deal to make sure someone is there for them.”

Master dropped another kiss on top of her head and sauntered out as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Ice fell into step beside him. Ambrie blinked back tears as she watched him walk down the sidewalk.

“Please tell me you didn’t see cancer in his throat,” Ambrie whispered to Hannah. “He’s been through so much already. I don’t want that for him. I know you saw something.”

“I didn’t see cancer,” Hannah answered, “but I don’t see things like that. It isn’t my strength. I’m sure he’s going to be fine, especially now that he has you.”

Ambrie pressed her lips together. Hannah wasn’t a woman to lie. “Thank you for that. I hope I make his life good and him happy. That’s what I want.”

Hannah tipped her head to one side, her blue eyes going crystal blue. “I believe you can make him very happy, Ambrielle. Come with me. I know your friends are here, but I want to show you some things.”

Ambrie followed her through the various beautifully appointed displays. There was so much to see that she wanted to slow down and look at everything. Incredible scents wafted up from various purple and blue woven baskets. Hannah reached a long counter with various items on it. She pulled an empty basket and began to fill it with lotions and oils.

“This oil is really good for massage. Rub it directly into the muscles when they’re sore or knotted. It’s edible, so no worries if you both suddenly get in the mood. This lotion is for his throat. Start with his neck and shoulders and massage it into his skin. When you move around to the front, use a gentle downward stroke like this . . .” Hannah took Ambrielle’s arm and turned it over to expose her inner wrist. Very lightly, she used the pads of her fingers to demonstrate the proper way to carefully rub the lotion along Master’s throat.

“It’s important to do this every single day, Ambrie, if you want to make certain those polyps don’t return, especially if he’s under any kind of stress.” Hannah continued to put items in the basket. “Most of these are going to be for you. He’s the kind of man who will want to do for you, and if you’re always giving him massages and he can’t reciprocate, he isn’t going to be happy. He’ll like these different oils.”

“Hannah, I see you’ve met Master’s wife, Ambrielle. What are you fixing there for her?” Preacher came up behind them.

He had very thick curly dark hair and striking blue eyes. His white teeth flashed at them as he smiled, but that smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Like all the members of Torpedo Ink, he was muscular and looked as if he could handle himself in a fight.

Hannah didn’t stop filling the basket with items. “Just a little wedding gift for the two of them. I’m going to fix a soother for Master’s throat. Do you want to help me?”

“Absolutely. I thought I’d make it before Master and Ambrie arrived, but I had a little problem with my truck this morning.” He glared at the woman behind the counter.

Ambrielle followed his stare to look at the woman. She appeared to be a little like a sprite with her wealth of black hair, small pixie face and large eyes that were just a little too big for her face.

She leaned on the counter with a wide smirk. “What’s wrong, Preacher? You look . . . disgruntled.”

“A man’s truck is sacred, you little she-devil.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re going on about. I was here all morning. In fact, I arrived early and unpacked all the baskets.” She smiled big at him. “You seem to be having all kinds of trouble lately, Preacher. Last night after work you couldn’t get the door open to the back room.”

“Sabelia, I swear,” Preacher began, taking a step toward the counter.

“If you need a break, Preacher, I can help Hannah with that soother while you sit and have a cup of tea. In fact, I’ll make the tea for you myself,” Sabelia offered, her tone oozing sweetness.

“The only break I need is breaking your little neck,” Preacher muttered under his breath.

“I take it she won the battle round,” Hannah said, amusement tingeing her voice.

“Two out of three,” Preacher conceded. “You’re creating a monster, Hannah. You might want to think twice before you teach that little demon child anything else.”


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