Darksider: Reveler Series 3 Read Online Free

A all the way. Ambitious. Assertive. Aggressive about what was important to her.Only someone who worked her ass off could achieve what she had.
    “So what happened?” Because if she’d gone several months, she could’ve gone several more.
    Finally, she raised her eyes. Let him see her. The blood had drained from her face so that she was pale, as well as suddenly very calm. She’d grown up—no twenty-year-old girl about her now.
    This composure from a woman of passion made him go cold. He gripped his thigh hard to keep the rest of his body at ease.
    “This morning at the restaurant. I was heading to the front to meet some people, and I saw him outside the window. I saw his face. Don’t ask me how I knew it was him, but I did.” She lifted her injured wrist. “I dove for him rather dramatically—for a second I must have thought I was in a dream because he was there. I went through the window, and then I was a little too out of it afterward to see which way he went.”
    She could’ve killed herself. How tired and distressed must she have been not be able to distinguish the waking world from a nightmare? Someone had been stalking her Darkside, and in real life, too. Sera. His Sera, even if she didn’t belong to him anymore.
    Oddly, Harlen found himself calm, as well. He’d been a soldier once. He’d done and seen some things that still made his hands shake. But at the moment, he was so cold and sharp, he could rival any of Sera’s knives.
    No wonder she’d held one in hand when she’d answered the door. She was afraid.
    Harlen got up, crossed the sacred divide into the kitchen area, and took her by the shoulders. Her color was coming back up, but her gaze was so determined and steady that he wanted to kiss her. He used to be able to melt her.
    He met that resolute gaze with one of his own. “We’ll find him.”
    “And kill him.” Could’ve been the wine talking, or she could’ve been serious.
    In fact, extended and excruciating pain would be involved. “He’ll pay.”
    If possible, her expression got harder. “You still want the food I’m cooking? I’m self-medicating. Could be…compromised.”
    There was only one answer. “Absolutely. And I’ll take a glass of wine now, too.”
    She hesitated a terrible moment. Then she exhaled with relief.
    That long slide of breath hit him like a slow-motion slug to the chest. In spite of their history, she trusted him. She’d called him.
    Relief was good. He wanted more for her.
    He gave her his best leer and lowered his voice to practiced smooth and sexy tones. “And then after what I am sure will be a very fine supper—”
    One of her eyebrows lifted, a shadow of humor glinting in her troubled eyes.
    “—Serafina Rochan, will you sleep with me?”
     
    ***
     
    Oh hell yes.
    To get her life back? “Yes. Thank you.”
    He was back on the stool, this time with his long leather trench coat off and draped over the back of the sofa, his tie loosened. He was a big man, tall and broad, so he filled her eyes when she looked at him this close. Well, he’d always filled her eyes when she’d looked at him. His dark hair was cut short, yet still rakish. His hazel eyes were the same, too, devilish and watchful. Flirty. The man couldn’t help it.
    He probably had a string of women smiling at him as usual. Well, good for him. He wasn’t a bad guy. Even back when they were breaking up she could’ve admitted that.
    She lifted the skillet from the stove and plated the salmon. Drizzled the sauce over and around the fillet. Low and high notes in the aroma sparked her senses and told her it was perfect. For the hell of it, she positioned the roasted baby corn in a fan, balancing the composition that was her canvas. The mellow yellow, rich pink, and bright carrot orange—offset by a green sprig of parsley—looked pretty, though she doubted Harlen would notice those details. She noticed them, and that’s what mattered.
    He was glaring at the plate she was