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Her brows drew together as if she had no idea where he was going with what he was saying, which only took him up a notch higher. He took a deep breath and let it out.

“Tell me, babe, what exactly were you doing when Doris and Campbell went to visit you? Mechanic sent me a video. You were playing both of them, using your voice on Doris to counteract his. And you were deliberately egging that bastard on, letting him see you weren’t falling for his shit.” Instead of looking at her as if her answer meant something, Savage stared at the turbulent waves crashing against the boulders and sea stacks.

“Brandon Campbell keeps visiting Doris, and he’s doing it on purpose as a threat to me.” Seychelle leaned over the railing, her body close to his. Her hair blew around her face, the thick strands of platinum-and-gold-colored hair covering her expression. “He’s telling me he can control Doris the way he did Sahara. I made certain to take Doris back and clear her mind so his stupid, pitiful voice doesn’t work on her.”

A surge of fear welled up like an eruption of a volcano, hot and massive, spewing adrenaline through his body, laced with a rage. Savage fought it down, although he had the urge to take one of her wrists and tie it to that column she was holding on to and then stretch her other arm to the other column. She needed a good lesson in making herself a target without her man to protect her.

“Did it occur to you that all he had to do was talk to Doris again when you weren’t around and make suggestions for her to harm herself?”

Seychelle turned around to face him, her back to the railing, that particular stance causing her breasts to thrust right at him. She looked inviting. Too inviting. She gave him a little smug smile. “He can try, but it won’t work. His little parlor trick of a voice doesn’t hold a candle to mine. Once I found his exact sequence of notes, I was able to counter it easily. He won’t be able to make suggestions to Doris or in any way influence her against me or anyone else.”

Savage couldn’t resist drawing a line with his fingertip from her chin down her throat between the valley of her breasts. She shivered, and her nipples grew into hard little pebbles for him. Her eyes went dark and remained steady on his.

“You wanted him to see that you took Sahara from him, didn’t you?”

“I wish I could have taken Sahara completely from him. I tried. If I’d had more time with her, I could have. But she is safe, as long as her parents can keep her away, and then time will do the rest. He had so much time to ruin her. To get in her head. He’s evil, Savage.”

“Exactly, Seychelle.” He held out his hand to her. She took it immediately. No hesitation. “He was in the bar. Watching you.”

“I saw him. I suspect he’s influencing Shari. I was trying to figure that out when she was talking to me outside.”

Savage’s gut knotted even more. “Did it occur to you that he’s a vindictive little shit and that he’s likely to come after you?” He stepped inside the house and took her with him.

“I’m not susceptible to his voice, and other than that, he’s a coward, Savage. He doesn’t really have any other weapons.”

“He’s a vindictive shit,” he repeated and took her straight to the master bedroom.

SIXTEEN

The master suite was everything Savage could possibly want. He would have bought the house for that alone. He had wanted a room with a lot of space, one where he could see the ocean from nearly every angle. If not the wild sea, then the woods surrounding the privacy of the courtyard off the master suite. The bedroom, sitting room and master bath had everything he could possibly want and more.

The bedroom was enormous, the walls a textured seaweed in a muted sage color. The ceilings were high, with those same beams running throughout the house. The wood floor gleamed, but he had thick rugs in various places, including in front of the long in-wall gas fireplace. A padded bench was placed near the bed, carved from a dark cherrywood, the cover a deep royal-blue leather.

Three long curved stairs led down to the sitting area, another huge space where the walls of glass gave such a view of the sea. A royal-blue leather divan was placed facing inward, the head toward the window, foot toward the center of the room. A post rose from the floor at the head of the divan with several metal rings attached. There were two shorter posts on either side with rings at the end. A wide railing made of the same cherrywood as the spanking bench was curved around one bank of windows, the same thick royal-blue leather over the top of it.


Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance