He caught up her jacket and was extremely gentle as he helped her into it, wrapping his arms around her as he zipped it up, pulling her body into his, her back to his front. “I’m sorry this took so long. You were amazing, Seychelle. You held everything together for us. Things could have gone to hell fast a couple of times, but you kept everyone calm with your voice.” He brushed kisses on her temple, over her ear, to her neck. “I was so fucking proud of you.”
Her gaze shifted back to him, but she didn’t smile. She just nodded to Alena and started toward the door. Savage caught her hand, holding on to her, letting her know that no matter what, they were a couple, and she wasn’t leaving him again over Shari. He detested that he’d made such a mistake, allowing his needs to overcome his usual careful planning that ensured he didn’t make mistakes with his choice of partners. He’d banned Shari, but she’d managed to get in. Seychelle had said it was fine, but clearly it wasn’t.
His intention was never to hurt Seychelle emotionally. Already he could see he was failing her. She paused at the door of the bar and turned back.
“Fatei, thank you so much for looking out for me. I really appreciate it.” She gave him her high-wattage smile.
Savage noted that the smile didn’t light her eyes. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and just hold her, but there were too many interested eyes on them. Too many people looking at his woman with speculation. He didn’t make the mistake of hurrying her. He waited until she was ready to leave. Her fingers tightened around his, and she straightened her shoulders before she once again started for the door.
“You going to stay mad at me all night?” He paced beside her down the stairs, keeping her body right up against his.
“Yes.” She didn’t look at him.
They walked in silence to his Harley. She put her helmet and gloves on while he straddled the bike and started it up. Hand on his shoulder, Seychelle took a careful look around. Savage knew that not only were Shari and her friend watching them, but Arnold was concealed in the bushes and Brandon Campbell had come out of the bar to follow at a distance. She got on as if she’d been doing it for years, fitting perfectly behind him, wrapping him up as if he were her Christmas present. She laid her body against his.
He took the shorter route to Highway 1 and circled away from Sea Haven. She tightened her arms around him, her palm pushing into his belly in protest. She wanted to go home. He was taking her there, just not to the one she expected. He dropped his gloved hand over hers to try to comfort her. Loving her was easy. Keeping her safe was proving to be something else altogether.
Savage had always thought that because it was easy for anyone to see he was the kind of man no one ever fucked with, he would never have a problem with anyone threatening his woman—not unless his club went to war. It had never occurred to him that if he did find a woman who would put up with his proclivities, she would have the kind of voice that would compel men to be obsessed. When he agreed to her singing with the band, the only thing he’d worried about was her gift of healing. Never once had he worried that those hearing her voice might hear the lure of a siren’s call.
He turned off the highway to once more take a road that led toward the ocean and the very back side of Caspar. Slowing the motorcycle as he drove along the thick stone wall that surrounded part of the estate, he pressed the button on his key chain to open the gate so that when he approached, they could just ride through.
The estate was behind iron gates set between thick stone pillars. At the end of a long drive, the house had the luxury of an ocean view on two sides, as well as landscaping and woods on the other two sides. Savage felt protected and away from everyone. There was plenty of space between the house and the trees, so no one could just creep up on him, not to mention he had put in a state-of-the-art security system.
The house was elegant and built solid. It was an A-frame house, with forty-inch beams in the south section and thirty-five-inch beams in the north part. Savage liked the height of the ceilings. He liked space, and the house gave the feeling of that with twenty-five-foot ceilings.
He rode up the long drive to a carport that was in front of the garage. Again, he opened the door to the garage from his key chain so he could ride straight in and park. Seychelle sat there in silence for so long he didn’t think she’d get off. He waited. Not saying a word. Letting her think about it. Finally, she put one hand on his shoulder and swung off, removing her helmet. She stood there waiting while he joined her.