Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 158191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 791(@200wpm)___ 633(@250wpm)___ 527(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 791(@200wpm)___ 633(@250wpm)___ 527(@300wpm)
He liked very hot water, so his outdoor tub was blazing hot and she gasped as she sank down into it. “Absinthe. This could take your skin off.”
“Or take all the kinks out.” He scattered his clothes down the hall from the front room to the outdoor deck almost on top of hers, making it seem as if they had come through their living room and couldn’t quite make it outside before they were all over each other.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think that’s ever going to happen. You’re always going to be a little kinky and I like you that way.”
He caught her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap, cupping the weight of her breasts in his hands, kissing her upturned mouth. “That’s a good thing, baby, because I’m crazy in love with you.”
The doorbell was loud and demanding. Absinthe went from a deep sleep to instantly alert. His body was curled around Scarlet’s, his arm locked around her waist, his cock snuggled in the seam of her cheeks. She rolled with him.
“Cops,” he announced, peering into the security screen, which clearly showed the two men at the front door. “Don’t get dressed, baby. Put that nearly transparent long shirt on, as if you hastily threw it on. Wear a thong. Come out right after me, hair falling down, very messy, and look sleepy as hell.” He’d marked her skin, so she looked well used and very his.
He dragged on a pair of the silky drawstring pants and called into the intercom. “This better be important, Jonas. I’ll be right there.” He strode down the hall leading to the main part of the house. When he opened the door, he was barefoot, bare chested, hair rumpled from sleep, and he wore only the thin drawstring pants.
Jonas Harrington, the local sheriff, and Jackson Deveau, the deputy, both stood on his verandah, eyes sharp, taking in every detail, including his woman’s fingernail scratches at his shoulders and the little bites at his neck.
“What’s wrong?” Absinthe demanded, waving them inside. “Is everyone all right?” He looked around for his phone. “Damn it. Blythe? Czar? The kids?”
There was a little whisper of feet and Scarlet rushed in, looking sexy, disheveled and very upset. Beneath the long boyfriend shirt she’d “thrown on” hastily, her full breasts were bouncing as she ran. Her red hair tumbled around her face, falling in a mass of silk, yet anyone could see the marks of his possession on her neck and down to the curves of her breasts. Bite marks, strawberries, an obvious night of wild possession.
“Honey? Is something wrong? Someone hurt?” Scarlet skidded to a halt, one hand going defensively to her throat when she saw the two uniformed men. She backed up a couple of steps. “I thought it was Czar.”
Absinthe picked up one of the throw blankets on the chairs and wrapped it around her, covering her body. “It’s all right, miledi. They were just about to tell me why they’re here. Scarlet, this is Jonas Harrington and Jackson Deveau. They’re law, but they’re good guys. My wife, Scarlet.” He waved the two men to a seat and sank down in the widest chair, pulling Scarlet down on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, locking her to him, his chin on her shoulder, eyes on the two men. “Get it done, gentlemen. I left my phone in the bedroom. If it’s one of my brothers I want you to just spit it out fast.”
Jonas shook his head. “Everyone’s fine as far as I know, Absinthe. We’re here on another matter. It’s nice to meet you, ma’am, and we’re sorry to disturb you, but we received a call from a police department in the Bay Area. Several bodies were discovered tonight. Calloway, the judge who presided over your trial; your defense attorney; the prosecutor; a doctor who was a witness for the prosecution; and Robert Holden Sr. Three of the bodies had cards pinned to their chests made out to you, Ms. Scarlet.”
Jonas leaned forward, looking right into her eyes. Absinthe kept his arms around her. She let out a small distressed sound and looked back at him over her shoulder. “I swear this nightmare is never going to end.” Her voice trembled, a thread of sound, barely there. So genuine.
“The card said the men were killed as a wedding present to you from a fan. Calloway was murdered in a hidden room housing stolen masterpieces, artwork that belongs in museums. Holden was killed in his house in the same manner, a garrote,” Jonas continued.
Jackson, as usual, didn’t say anything, preferring Jonas to do all the talking. His gaze didn’t stray from Scarlet’s face or her body, although Absinthe did his best to break up the way the other man could see her, using his arms and chin. Torpedo Ink had studied the two law enforcement officers very early on when they knew they were going to settle in Caspar. Jackson was their human lie detector just as Absinthe was Torpedo Ink’s.