Recovery Road – Torpedo Ink Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
<<<<394957585960616979>158
Advertisement2


“I can tell you how, Master, if you really want to know.” Her eyes met his.

Those long lashes of hers were wet and spiked, but not with tears. With rain. She blinked off the drops and kept looking at him. Straight. Unafraid. Damn her, she had courage. Did he? Was he going to have less courage than Ambrielle? He felt the air move in and out of his lungs, felt his heart beat and knew this was one of those defining moments of his life.

“Yeah, babe. I want to know.” He meant it.

“My parents were military. When I say that, I mean full-time, all the way, military. They raised me to believe when you made a commitment, you went one hundred percent, all the way in, and there was no room for failure. You charged the hill, you had a hundred bullets in you, you made it up that hill. I made a commitment to you. I meant every single word. You are my choice for life. That means there is no room for failure. They said when the tough times come, it is the commitment that will see us through, but we both have to have that same level of all the way in. No holding back.”

“You think you have that kind of commitment to me.” He made it a statement, but it was really a derisive sneer. There was no way. She didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.

“Absolutely, I do. For life. I gave you my word. I took a vow. I meant every word I said. I thought you did too.”

“And when I kill those fuckers for you? How are you going to feel then, Ambrielle, when you’re tied to me for life, and you realize I’m no picnic? That I don’t fit in with your fancy friends and I like to have you with me all the time? That I still want sex every time I look at you? What then, after they’re dead? Because they’re going to die.”

“After they’re dead, Master, we’re going to live together. We’re going to have a life together just like every other married couple, but we’re going to have our commitment to keep us together. And we’re having children, because I want them, so be prepared for that.”

Master stared down at her in shock. She meant it. He could see the absolute determination in her eyes. He heard it in her voice. Pain gripped his chest, squeezed like a vise and kept squeezing until he could barely breathe.

Slowly, he lowered her feet to the ground, but he kept his arm locked around her back so she couldn’t escape. He caught her face in one large hand, his grip rough. Hard. The killer settled in him, the one that always protected him so he wouldn’t go insane or shatter into a million pieces. “You’d better mean what you say, Ambrielle. If I let myself believe you and you’re lying to me, you hold back and I give you everything, I don’t know what I’d do when you walked away.” He meant that. Just the thought of letting her all the way in was so terrifying, his hand slipped from her jaw so his fingers could settle around her throat.

She didn’t so much as flinch. Those violet eyes stared straight into his. “I didn’t choose you just because I knew you could kill Thompson and his crew. I think any of Torpedo Ink could do that. I chose you because you’re a good man. I don’t make mistakes, Kir, not even under duress. I could see into you, and I chose you because I knew you were the right one for me. I’ll stay. The real question is, will you?”

She was so fucking mixed-up. He wasn’t a good man. What in the hell gave her that idea? He was standing in the rain with his hand wrapped around her throat because he was a coward. “I lied to you. Well, I did and I didn’t. When I said Sorbacov murdered my parents and took me to that school. He did murder them, but not for political reasons.”

The door in his mind creaked and groaned, opening slowly in spite of every protest. He was letting her in and possibly making the biggest mistake of his life.

EIGHT

Master leaned down and once more caught Ambrielle’s legs behind her knees and lifted her into his arms. “You’re freezing. I’m going to get you to the truck and out of these wet clothes. We can warm you up, and I’ll get a flannel from Tyra.”

She rubbed her face against his chest as she linked her hands behind his neck. “Pretty soon I’m going to have clothing from everyone within a fifteen-mile radius or more.”

“Your feet are all muddy.”

“I’m very aware. I don’t suppose you have a fetish for muddy feet. Some men do, you know. I could probably make money showing them off on various sites on the internet. I should probably take video before I wash them.”


Advertisement3

<<<<394957585960616979>158

Advertisement4