Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“I also have Horvath guards on hand, in case he gets out of control,” Lady Bittlebum said.
“Your Honor, I must object to this idea,” Imani protested. “The Horvaths abused my client when he was down in the “hole” in the Yonnite detention facility. Seeing them again is difficult for him. Also, Mistress Bittlebum’s home is the place he grew up with his adopted mother, Mistress Hownow. Being in that setting—in a home which would rightfully belong to him if he hadn’t been cheated out of it—will be extremely stressful!”
“Which makes it an even better test of his self control,” Judge Thoughtgood said decisively. “I like this idea, Lady Bittlebum. It was very kind of you to suggest it and offer your home as a setting for this test,” she added, nodding at the lemon-haired Mistress.
“Thank you, your Honor. I just want to see that justice is done.” Lady Bittlebum preened importantly. She turned a poisonous gaze on Imani. “The reception starts at nine tonight. See that you and that scruffy bodyslave aren’t late.”
J’are glared at the lemon-haired Mistress, a low growl rising in his throat.
Quickly, Imani put a hand on his arm to calm and silence him.
“May I ask if the court is doing anything to find the real killer of Lady Zangelo?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at Judge Thoughtgood. “Since it has been proven that my client is innocent?”
Judge Thoughtgood frowned.
“That is a matter for the Yonnite Peace Keepers force and not you, Councilor. Kindly confine yourself to your own case.”
Imani wanted to protest that the murder which someone had tried to pin on her client was her case—or an integral part of it, at least. And she also wanted to protest the idea that she and J’are go to the reception at his old house. But it was clear that the judge’s mind was made up.
“Yes, your Honor,” she said woodenly.
“Very good. Then I’ll see you tonight at Lady Bittlebum’s party. If I judge that your client is behaving himself in a civilized manner and that he poses no harm to those around him, I’ll release him permanently into your custody and you can take him wherever you like,” Judge Thoughtgood said. “If, however, I do not like his behavior, it’s back to the detention center he goes and from there, immediate execution. Do I make myself clear, Councilor?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
Imani swallowed hard. Tonight would be a test and failing it would mean J’are’s life. Could he pass this trial? Especially during the evening hours, when his feral side would be so much harder to control?
He’ll have to, she thought, casting a sidelong glance at the big Nightwalker. If he doesn’t, he’ll die.
And there would be nothing she could do to save him.
Twenty-Nine
“How do I look?” Imani held out her arms and did a slow turn.
“Well, the pain collar remote is very prominently displayed. Judge Thoughtgood will be pleased” J’are said dryly.
He nodded to the beaded necklace she wore with the remote dangling from it like some kind of strange ornament. They had decided it would be best for her to wear it openly, so that the judge could see that Imani was being prudent and responsible—not that she would ever use it. She had assured J’are of that and he believed her.
“No, not the pain remote—the dress. Is it too much?” Imani asked anxiously, indicating the Yonnite dress she was wearing.
It was the fanciest one she’d worn yet—a brilliant turquoise blue with a short cape of blue and green feathers which looked spectacular against her brown skin—and she looked gorgeous in it.
But then, J’are happened to think she looked gorgeous in anything…or nothing at all.
“Fucking perfect,” he said, trying not to look at the matching lace panties, which clearly showed the top of her pussy slit. But when he looked away from her pussy, his eyes fell on her breasts instead, which were barely covered by a band of turquoise lace. The plump, dark points of her nipples were pressing against the thin fabric, making him ache to suck them again.
Gods, this wasn’t going to be easy, he thought, forcing himself to look away altogether. His feral side was so close to the surface. By rights, it should have free reign at this hour. But J’are was staying in his thinking mind with a conscious effort of will and holding his feral half at bay. He couldn’t let it take over tonight—the result might mean his death.
“Are you all right?” Imani asked softly.
“Fine.” He kept his eyes down on her feet, clad in dainty little black slippers.
“Then why won’t you look at me?” Imani asked. “J’are, if this is about what happened at the spa—”
“It’s not. Well, not exactly.”
They’d already had a talk earlier about how the tasting at the spa had been a “mistake”—one Imani apparently didn’t intend to repeat. J’are had agreed that they shouldn’t have done something so unprofessional together and that they shouldn’t speak of it or do it again. But he couldn’t help the way he felt—couldn’t bury the knowledge that he was falling in love with his lovely Defender.