Total pages in book: 178
Estimated words: 163885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 656(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 656(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Awareness rushed into him. He swore softly under his breath. He should have guessed. There was an exchange taking place, just as Libby said Seychelle would do, and he didn’t like it. It was one thing to sing, but to start healing aches and pains in an entire crowd? Hell no. That was one thing he was putting a stop to.
Then, suddenly, she nearly faltered. She didn’t miss a beat, but knowing her as he did, and knowing the band members, he was alerted instantly. At first he was afraid she’d taken on some illness that was so harmful it was destroying her, but it didn’t seem to be that at all. To Savage, she was an open book, and she looked hurt—not physically but emotionally hurt. Upset. Devastated. So much so that every alarm he had went off.
* * *
Seychelle had never heard a band as good as the one playing. They were incredible. She couldn’t believe they had invited her to sing with them. The crowd was great, the energy uplifting. Most of the people in the bar were there to have fun. Ailments were minor for once, and when she finally allowed herself to look at Savage, he was totally focused on her—very happy to see her. She’d been worried he might have changed his mind after a month.
It was silly to be so nervous over that when he’d come to her cottage nearly every single night and left her roses. He’d sent Alena with delicious meals she couldn’t eat but was grateful for. He’d made certain his Torpedo Ink brothers had watched over her. Savage wasn’t a man to do all that if he didn’t want her. It was just that she was so confused over what their relationship really was. What it could be. What he wanted from her and what she could give him.
If felt good to be able to take away his headache. It was a small thing, but she liked being able to help him. She had missed him so much. It had felt as if she was living a half life without him. She’d taken her time, really thought a lot before she’d decided to come to him. She didn’t know exactly what his lifestyle entailed or if she could handle it, but if he was willing to teach her and not have other women in his life . . . Maybe. She just didn’t know. She just knew she was willing to chance finding out more. He was worth it. Sharing his life was worth it.
Looking at him, seeing his eyes so blue, looking like twin blue flames burning over her, claiming her, made her feel as if she belonged. She’d missed having that. She’d been adrift without him. She sang to him. Gave him joy. Gave him her happiness. Lifted the spirits of everyone in the bar.
A jarring note slipped into her web of silken fairy tales. A dark thread of truth to unravel her dreams. Lust. Craving. Twisted greed. Her gaze found that thread and followed it. The woman was dancing in front of the band, but she was dancing for one man—Savage. Her eyes were on him, carnal desire stark on her face. She was shaking her dark hair all around so that it shimmied under the lights. Seychelle recognized her immediately. She was broadcasting her thoughts loudly in time with the pulsing music, her pelvis thrusting suggestively toward Savage. She was with another woman, and that woman was staring at Savage as well, her expression almost as lecherous as her friend’s.
When the last notes of the song died away, Seychelle handed the microphone to Maestro, flashed a smile to the crowd and stepped off the stage. Unfortunately, their backs to her, the two women inadvertently blocked her path leading to the back room and safety.
“See why I came all the way from San Francisco? I followed him here,” the dark-haired woman said. “Everyone said he never came back twice, but I had him twice. I’ll have him again, you just wait and see, Melinda.”
“Shari, he’s awesome. I wouldn’t mind a go at that myself.”
“Well, back off, he’s all mine,” Shari declared. “I’m going for permanent status.”
Seychelle managed a polite smile as the band swung into the next song. “Excuse me.”
Immediately, the two women parted to let her through. Seychelle was instantly mobbed, mostly by men, as she tried to make her way to the door. That was all she could think of. Getting out. What had she been thinking? Shari? Melinda? How many more was he going to have while she stood on a stage with the band and sang? She was crazy to think she could handle that. Absolutely crazy.
* * *
Savage had no idea what had upset Seychelle, but she was running. Heading toward the door, thinking she was going to get away from him. That wasn’t happening. The moment Seychelle made her way into the crowd, she was mobbed by men. One had his hand on her back—a member of the Headed for Hell club—and his palm was slipping down toward her ass.