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)
“I’m not sharing your feet with some dumbfuck who gets off on muddy toes. Even virtually. Bog, woman, you’re going to turn my hair gray.” Despite his chest hurting and his head screaming at him to stop the door to his past from opening, she made him want to smile.
Ambrielle had a way of making him feel as if they were together, entwined already, impossible to separate. Whatever they faced, they faced together. It was odd to feel that way when he barely knew her. He didn’t believe in miracles or magic. He didn’t believe that he had chances in life that others who he thought were better men didn’t, and yet here she was—in his arms and married to him.
He managed to get her to the truck and into the passenger seat with the heater going without making more of a fool of himself. “Get everything off but your underwear.” He tossed her a lighter club jacket he kept rolled up and tucked down beside the driver’s seat. “Wear that until I get back with clothes and something to wash off your feet. I’ll hurry.”
“You’re soaked too.”
“Yeah, but I won’t melt.” He started toward the front door of the cabin.
She stuck her head out the window. “Are you implying I’m the Wicked Witch of the West?”
“I don’t know, you could be. You give me a lot of trouble, and right now, you’re a little green around the gills.”
Master shook his head and hurried into the house. His woman was shivering uncontrollably. It didn’t take him long to get a sweatshirt and pants from Tyra, along with warm washcloths and towels. After promising the others they’d be right in, he went back to her and climbed in on the driver’s side. The heater, on full blast, had done its job, warming the truck, and Ambrie had stripped off the wet clothes.
She took the towel and began drying her hair immediately, holding her head down in front of the heater while he washed her feet for her. There were a couple of scrapes on the soles of her left foot and one on her right. She hadn’t said a word about them. Her hair became a mass of wild dark curls.
“Kir,” Ambrie began softly, keeping her head down as she shook out her hair. “I’ve been sitting here thinking about something. It’s occurred to me that I sort of railroaded you into not only marrying me but also agreeing to keep me. So . . .”
She took a deep breath and sat up, flipping her hair back as she faced him. She looked determined, but he could see fear in her eyes. She moistened her lips. “I thought maybe I’d give you a onetime offer. You know, to get out. We could still have great sex but agree to part ways at the end of the time when we get the ones responsible for murdering my parents.”
Master was fairly certain she was unaware she was shaking her head no even as she gave him his “out.” He wrapped his palm around the nape of her neck, leaned down and took her mouth, kissing her. Thoroughly. Pouring heat. Fire. His heart. Right down her throat and into her body. When he lifted his head, he looked into her eyes. “Yeah, princess, that’s not happening. We done with all doubts?”
She gave him a faint smile, but he got the full effect of those large indigo eyes, already moving toward violet. She shrugged off the jacket, pulled on the sweatshirt and put the jacket over it. Holding up the sweatpants, she started laughing. “Master, what am I going to do with these? The sweatshirt comes almost to my knees. These are so long I’d have to roll them up into foot-thick cuffs. I’m not even going to talk about how she’s tall and thin and I’m short and . . .”
He yanked her to him again and took another kiss. “You’ve got tits and an ass, woman. Perfect. Don’t go complaining about perfection.”
He turned off the truck and went around to gather her to him so they could go inside and listen to whatever Reese had to say. This time, he’d better tell the truth and give them the full story. Master wasn’t going to lay his freedom on the line, or his life, not now when he had a woman to come home to, for a man who wouldn’t fight for his own life.
Reese gripped Tyra’s hand as Master settled in one of the larger armchairs with Ambrielle tucked in the one closest to him. Tyra had made hot chocolate for her.
“That should help warm you up,” Tyra said. She indicated a blanket. “And that’s for you too, Ambrie.”
“Thank you, Tyra,” Ambrielle said as Master tucked the blanket around her.
He looked at Ink to get things started.