Tragic Ink_A Havenwood Falls Novella by Heather Hildenbrand

Author:Heather Hildenbrand [Hildenbrand, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ang'dora Productions
Published: 2018-02-22T18:30:00+00:00

I woke to the smell of coffee and the sense that I wasn’t alone. When I rolled over, my breath caught, and I gasped. Rhys jumped back, nearly spilling the coffee he’d just set on the nightstand. I blew out a breath, clutching my chest and willing my pulse to steady as I sat up. “Shit. You scared me.”

“Sorry. I wanted to offer caffeine before I started overloading you with information.”

“What time is it?” I asked, inching toward the steaming mug and trying to blink the rest of the exhaustion away.

“Almost ten.”

“In the morning?” I squawked.

Rhys winced. “My contact called me back a few minutes ago, and I think we should meet with a couple of people today. I didn’t want to wait too long to get moving.”

“Why? Who? What did he say?” I grabbed the mug and took a sip, mostly so I could comprehend whatever details he was about to give.

Rhys hesitated. “Take another sip of coffee first.”

“Rhys,” I warned, irritable and wary. “Tell me.”

He didn’t respond, and finally I took a large gulp of coffee. Then I raised my brows. “Now tell me,” I said.

“They found Walter’s body this morning.”

“What?” It was the last thing I’d expected, and for that reason, it confused me more than upset me. For about five seconds. Then my eyes stung with tears that I blinked back. In an effort to hold it together, I gulped more coffee. “How did he die?”

“Natural causes. That’s the official finding so far. But . . .”

“We both know it wasn’t natural. Not with the hellhound getting loose.”

Rhys’ brow furrowed. “Is it possible his tattoo could have activated when he died?”

“No. The magic only lives as long as the wearer.”

He let out a breath, but he didn’t look relieved.

“What?” I asked.

“Remember the call Deputy Conall claimed to get about the disturbance last night?” I nodded. “My contact says Walter was the anonymous caller.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Walter let his hellhound loose and aimed it at innocent people he likely didn’t even know, and then he called the police?”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Rhys agreed, his gaze far away as he stared at the curtains covering the sunlit window. Finally, he blinked and looked at me, focusing on my body for what felt like the first time since he’d come in.

Suddenly, I remembered I’d taken off everything but my black tank top and panties last night. My exposed skin tingled where his gaze touched.

“I should get dressed,” I said hastily, reaching for the sheet, coffee still clutched in one hand, but Rhys stopped me. Carefully, he took the mug out of my hand and set it on the nightstand. Then he scooted closer until we were almost nose to nose. His eyes blazed with a hunger that I’d only ever experienced in my own body. Desire—no, need—reflected back at me.

Slowly, he reached for me, his hand cupped tightly against the back of my neck, his thumb stroking my jawline. He held me there, his expression daring me to object.

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