BOOK EXCERPT

Cake, curls and three-inch wieners

Harlow

A triple chocolate, yuzu sorbet ice cake. Laced with coconut crumbles and nazua nectar. Served with a side of Calasian vanilla ice cream.

That’s all she’d wanted out of this night.

All she’d got so far was this nightmare of a douche waxing lyrical about his douchey world.

She wasn’t there for his doucherie.

She hadn’t been all about it two days ago when he asked her on their fourth date. Just as she’d contemplated breaking it off with him.

During the call, he’d confirmed that he’d secured a table at the most coveted restaurant in the city.

With its famed triple chocolate, yuzu sorbet and coconut ice cake.

So she’d reluctantly agreed, knowing the menu would be sensational.

The company, not so much.

But it would not be brilliant of an avid food connoisseur like herself to turn down a table at House M’Osia Axuma. And also, because she was hoping Ziemer would redeem himself, she gave him one more shot.

So here they were. Working through the main course.

Well, more like she was working through it, and he was waxing lyrical. On and on and on. Her head throbbed from the self-indulgent chatter coming from across the table.

‘ - My father and I also established Domino Gaming - and we made millions selling it to our rivals -’

Thank Dunia, this would soon be over. Because no matter how much Ziemer tried, they’d never be enough anecdotes to get to the exciting part of this one-sided conversation.

The yakimono on Harlow’s plate was delicious. So that’s where she focused all her senses instead of glowering at the man sitting across from her.

Because he’d done zero to redeem himself, in fact, he was reeling deep in the negatives. He’d kicked off the date by ogling her butt. Followed by trying to tap it as she’d entered the taxi flyer. She’d used a classic bag deflect to get him off her ass.

That was when she should have cut and run.

But she had three good reasons.

First of all, she was starving.

Second, bookings at House M’Osia Axuma were harder to get these days than a purple-haired miniature goat - all the rage as the newest pet must-have from the slopes of New Tibet.

Finally, that triple chocolate, yuzu sorbet and coconut ice cake.

‘What do you think of our little war?’ Ziemer practically shouted across the table to get her attention. That was the first question he’d asked her all night, just when she finessed the art of blocking out his voice.

She shook her head, irritated at his interruption of her yakimono moment. ‘I haven’t noticed it much. The Free Dunia Coalition was able to keep Axuma secure. So we’re relatively safe.’

The battle for Dunia’s control had hardly touched her home town. People still went about their everyday business like usual. Shops were trading, open-air markets were vibing, and restaurants like these were still bustling. Even the promenade beside Lake Axuma overflowed with families and children soaking in the joys of a balmy summer. For many, the battle for their planet was limited to their news holo screens. Far from sight, far from mind.

‘I think Massimo Makori got the short end of the stick,’ Ziemer droned on. ‘The Free Dunia Collective or whatchamacallit, refuse to see how much good he’s brought this planet.’

Harlow paused, her fork mid-air above a delicate kelp salad. ‘Are you telling me that you were supporting that traitor? The one who made deals with a xentium-hungry empire of crats to try and take over our planet? Are you for real?’

Ziemer blanched, and then his lip curled. Almost like he loathed that she was calling him out on his bull spit.

She, on the other hand, was especially protective of xentium. It was her lifeblood, and she would safeguard it with her existence if she had to.

Just then, she caught a slight shimmer with a unique signature to the right of her table. She frowned for a moment, peering at it through the haze of the low-lit dining space.

Was that a meta-material fractal shield? Impossible, she thought. Perhaps just a trick of the light in the dimly illuminated restaurant.

‘Anyone for dessert?’

The words cut short her examination of the strange phenom.

Their waitress wheeled smartly to their table on air skates, did a mini pirouette and grinned down at them.

‘Oh, YES, please!’ Harlow breathed in relief. About time.

‘What can I get you?’

Harlow nabbed the dessert menu to ensure she got the name of her long-awaited treat. She opened it to the right page and had launched a pointing finger when Ziemer leaned forward and snatched the menu from her hands.

‘I thought you worked out? And ate healthily? That’s what you said in your DuRom profile,’ he said, sounding quite peeved.

Harlow cocked an eyebrow. The gall of this man. ‘As I told you on our previous dates, I work out and eat healthily. But what does that have to do with anything? And why do you keep asking?’

He didn’t even seem ashamed to be badgering her - like he’d done a few times before - on her fitness and diet routine.

‘Four dates, and on each four, you’ve always eaten dessert,’ he grumbled. ‘I can see why you don’t look like you do. However, it would be best if you didn’t put interests in your profile that don’t match your IRL. And that includes saying you work out and eat well while instead ordering dessert!’

Annoyance began to ripple through Harlow’s being. ‘Are you saying I shouldn’t order dessert?’

‘Precisely. You look like you need to lose some Ks. Extra sugar won’t help.’

Harlow felt a wave of red heat crash over her head.

‘Says the man who ogled my beautiful butt and tried to tap it! What the actual fokk?’

By this time, the waitress was beginning to look alarmed. ‘Should I come back -?’

‘Stay here, please,’ Harlow said slowly and deliberately, tamping down the urge to reach over the table and slap her date. ‘Because I need a witness while I rip this arrogant jackass a new one. First of all, Ziemer, my weight is none of your business. Neither is my fitness routine, food choice, or lifestyle. You haven’t got a stake in my health. As a scientist, I’m pretty across what is and what is not healthy. I’m a 12. I’m curvy. I’m well within the Dunian health range for a woman of my height. I love what I wear, how I look, what I am and what I eat! I’ve worked hard, I’m at the top of my field, so I deserve to eat the best. I’m also independent and proud of myself, so I paid my half on all our prior dates. You have zero right to comment on my body, weight, and choices. I’m an acquired taste. If you don’t like me, acquire some taste. Meanwhile, take yourself and your 3-inch wiener and find some other emaciated, underweight, insecure woman to try your small dick energy on!’

Harlow rose from the table slowly because she wasn’t about no drama. She looped her bag over her shoulder and pushed off. Slowly, deliberately, rolling her hips.

Ziemer was left staring in shock at her curvy behind while she made for the restaurant’s reception desk.

‘Paying my half on table 3,’ she announced to the bot payment station.

She swiped her wrist comm and abruptly took a left to the back of the restaurant’s adjacent bar. Which was conveniently hidden from sight by the dividing wall between the restaurant floor and the reception area.

From her vantage point, Harlow coolly scrutinised a flustered Ziemer while he paid for half the meal and left in his ostentatious gold Sable Sphinx custom flyer.

Moments later, she reappeared at reception, where her server was busy retelling Harlow’s story to a group of her fellow servers.

The attendant gaped at the star of her saga. ‘I thought you left,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry I-.’

Harlow acknowledged her remorse with a smile. ‘You’ve nothing to apologise for. It’s me who’s sorry. I don’t usually behave this way, but I had to dump that loser. Please forgive me.’

The server waved off her apology, leaning in conspiratorially. ‘Honey, you did what you had to. You stood up for us girls with a little jiggle!’

That was when Harlow noticed the woman was also a curvy club member. She smiled.

The server grinned back. ‘What can I do for you, love?’

‘I don’t know when I’ll next be back,’ Harlow hedged her bets. ‘But would the kitchen be so sweet and make me a bag to go? Please? I’ll take the triple chocolate yuzu sorbet and coconut ice cake. Plus an extra large serve of super spicy potato curls with extra garlic butter slathered all over them if you can spare them.’

Fifteen minutes later, she’d paid for her food, added a generous tip for her fave new wait person and strolled out of House M’Osia Axuma swinging her to-go-dinner bag. They’d even thrown a free mango, Curacao orange and fresh apple mocktail into the mix. Angels.

For a moment, she contemplated taking a hire flyer home. But her house was just a twenty-minute walk away. So she figured a stroll on such a lovely evening would do her a world of good.

It’d help clear her head of the idiot man she’s just dumped to the curb. Perhaps give her some perspective for her life journey moving forward, for Harlow was DONE. She was DONE with men and their drama.

Ziemer had been the last straw.

He was 8th, no, 9th in a string of sorry-ass, self-obsessed jackasses who’d failed her in the last few years. She’d given them all a chance to redeem themselves. But, instead, they’d lied, cheated, manipulated, ghosted, gaslit, placed her on a pedestal, thrown her off it and used her.

Being a busy woman with a purposeful career, staff to manage and contracts to complete meant she’d not freaked out yet about the lack of a great man in her life. Yet she wondered if she’d be one of those women who’d never find a connection with a man who was her peer, who challenged her, made her panties wet and shared her slightly-nerdy interests.

She’d tried dating men outside her profession but had found most somewhat lacking in the intellectual department. She’d given her colleagues in the science world a red hot go and got disappointed. Most reminded her too much of her father; snobbish, overbearing and interested only in nubile, younger women whom they could easily manipulate.

She’d then opened her experience to dating businessmen like Ziemer, only to be talked down or ignored.

She knew the type of men wasn’t the genuine issue. The challenge lay with her and her alone.

It had taken years of therapy to prove that Harlow being attracted to the same losers as her chromosome contributor. Men who wanted to dominate and control her.

One had even tried to slug her physically when she’d turned him down for a hookup, which he’d rage demanded in a play to sound dominant. All within the first 20 minutes of meeting him. The entitled sex maniac had lost a few teeth and sported a broken nose for weeks. Tonight, Ziemer had been lucky to escape with just a tongue-lashing. Especially after his butt-tap attempt.

It seemed she could never throw off the ghost of her father’s emotional and psychological abuse, and each time she was disappointed by men, she felt the familiar rush of failure bear upon her. The failure that her father had tried to beat out of her for years.

Her therapist was right. At her last session, she’d encouraged Harlow to take a few months off dating. She’d even suggested an entire year off. Harlow agreed. She needed more work on herself to shake off her past.

Starting with tonight. Having tossed Ziemer out of her life, Harlow felt surprisingly free of the burden of trying to be with another man who didn’t accept or respect her for who she was. At least she now recognised red flags when they started waving their sorry little signs around.

Twelve months sounded reasonable in the grand scene of things for her to dedicate to her transformation. Right then, Harlow Meridien made up her mind to be free and single for a year. To get her head screwed back on straight.

Her decision felt right. Even Lake Axuma agreed, blowing the most gentle of sweet breezes onto Harlow’s face.

She strolled along the lake’s edge, sipping her fresh juice and dipping a hand every so often into her to-go bag to nab one more delicious garlicky buttery curl.

The warm air, the lap of the lake’s tiny waves - and the sounds of children playing on the water’s edge as they enjoyed a balmy summer evening - was everything.

Life could not get better than this.

The air was soft and satiny. Pillowy clouds chased stars across the evening Dunian sky. Eden II sparkled like a jewel above.

Harlow meandered past trendy lakefront restaurants filled with lovebirds and spilling over with friends soaking in the summer vibes. It was hard to imagine that the chaos of a coup lay just beyond the city’s dome.

Her mind strayed, as did her feet until she felt a tingling at the back of her neck. Were those eyes on her? Nothing was distinctive, just a nagging feeling that someone was watching her.

She flung a narrowed look to her left. There was no one close. She walked on but couldn’t shake the feeling someone was following her. Once, she feinted a stone in her shoe so she could look behind her. Besides the regular evening traffic along the scenic promenade along Lake Axuma, there didn’t seem to be any standout ‘stalker’ near her.

She returned to her food and stroll, lulled by the beauty of a warm summer night. Soon she drew up to the steps leading to her apartment block.

The Lakeside Springs development was reasonably new, within walking distance of local shops, parks, cafes, the maglev train and an abundance of local amenities. It was also just across from her work lab. Best of all, Harlow loved waking up in her tranquil home with its private courtyard overlooking the lake and expansive forest views.

She was just about to swipe her wrist comm over the security pad when she paused. She took a long breath and pointed turned her body to what looked like the empty wall beyond the entrance doorway.

‘Who the heck are you? And why are you following me?’

Kage

All he’d wanted was for this fokkin’ day to be over.

So he could burn to Eden II in under three hours, land at J’Urg Mihòr, and smash through the doors of his moonscape retreat.

Shower in a head that flowed with hot water pouring from a ceiling of stars.

Nab a bottle of craft beer and a large plate of home-made deliciousness.

Fall into his floating bed. Under a nebula-filled plex ceiling.

And there he’d remain. For days. On end.

Instead, here he was on Axuma doing a favour for Dunia’s Prime leader, Selene Munene.

It wasn’t working in his favour, though.

Evidenced by the fact his quarry was staring straight at him as if she could see right through his fractal shield.

Fokk! She’d detected him. But damn, she was good.

He felt a mix of wtf-ness shoved in with a hella lot of respect.

‘You’re wasting my time!’

Kage’s brow lifted, his stealth gaze drawn to her tapping foot. Through the haze of his exhaustion, he appreciated that Harlow Meridien was one gorgeous woman, even while working her foot like she was.

‘I don’t have time for this,’ she snapped.

Still, he stood there debating with his ego.

Not the way he’d slated meeting her.

It was certainly NOT the way he’d thought his day would end.

Unable to refuse the request from his khosi’s woman and especially aware of his quarry’s strategic importance to the Dunian and Sable Rider cause, he’d hauled ass to Axuma.

Truth be told, he’d been intrigued by the woman he’d heard was developing a new technology - a groundbreaking hybrid FTL fuel created from a rare fusion of refined xentium and elentium. He wanted to meet the mind responsible for this so-called powerful anti-grav propulsion fuel rumoured to be better than nuclear power and antimatter. So he’d pushed himself.

Drained from flying sorties over New Malindi for days on end, he’d arrived dead tired, growlingly hungry and super cranky at her street. Still in his exo suit. Riding the mean mutha of a flyer that he stored on his corvette.

He’d frightened a few locals when he’d arrived at her building, causing them to scurry away at the sight of his menacing, growling flyer. He’d parked it and was about to comm Kainan to confirm his arrival when his mark unexpectedly appeared at her building’s entranceway, leaving for what seemed to be a dinner date.

Her face matched the identikit on his wrist comm, so he’d sat back in his blacked-out machine and watched her laugh as she spoke to someone on her comm tab. His flyer’s sophisticated microphone had caught her excitement about the menu at House M’Osia Axuma. He’d felt an unexpected kick to his centre at her husky and low voice.

Loathe to spoil her plans, he’d triggered his metanoids and effectively disappeared into the night. Then, after activating its stealth shield, he’d left his flyer parked in her visitor space and legged it after her.

Incongruously, he’d watched a Sable flyer, his own design no less, supped up in hideous gold (which he’d never have approved, so it must have been a custom hatchet job), pull in to pick her up. He’d caught her date’s ogle and tap attempt and growled under his breath, itching to put hands on the jackass.

He’d trailed them to the restaurant, coasting behind them in stealth mode. Found an empty table adjacent to hers and leaned back to watch the show. After all, Kainan insisted that he keep his eyes on Harlow from the moment he caught up to her.

And what a show. It’d certainly kept him entertained and more awake than he’d ever been these past few days.

He’d watched her grit her teeth putting up with that waste of space.

He’d seen how controlled she’d been when she’d given her idiot date a piece of her mind and stifled a chortle at how she’d noped away from him, her ass swinging delectably.

He’d smirked with approval when she’d double-backed and ordered her dessert and cheesy, garlicky curly fries. Starving, he’d even contemplated asking her to get him some. But he hadn’t been ready to break cover. He was having too much fun watching her being her. He’d even enjoyed seeing her almost skip for joy as she walked home, nibbling on her snack and sipping her drink.

Fokk, she was something else. Beauty. Brains. Bounce.

Younger than he’d expected, given her scientific accomplishments to date. Mid-thirties, he estimated. A bundle of energy and sass from head to toe. Starting with her partially shaved haircut, with an elongated black bob to one side shimmering with purple gold highlights. It fell against her honey-coloured soft cheek, giving Kage the urge to reach out and touch it. Her ’tude came to life in her hazel eyes, accentuated by nature’s liner and impossibly long lashes. Below that was her pert nose and full lips. Then her even more magnificent curves were accentuated by her close-fitted, rainbow-hued V-necked dress.

Sexy, saucy and smart to boot.

It irked him some that she’d busted him, stealth cover and all.

Yet he was a man who knew when to cut his losses.

So he conceded and was about to reveal himself when she piped up again.

‘You’re not an assassin because you’ve had plenty of time and opportunity to do your thing. You’re not an ex-lover because no one I’ve been with is that tall. You’re not Dunian because your tech is out of this planet. You’re not the media because they can’t afford even one arm of your gear. You’re good, but you’re not that good because I busted you.’

She paused in thought, and then her large eyes grew even wider.

‘Wait, it’s the food, right? You’re after my cake and curls! I heard people were stalking diners from House M’Osia after they didn’t get reservations.’

She extended her to-go bag in his general direction, her face a picture of genuine horror. ‘Here, take it. It’s not that serious!’

This time he couldn’t help himself.

He laughed out loud.

His amusement turned into a full-blown guffaw.

He shook with mirth. He felt tears run down his cheeks.

After a few moments lost in a laughing jag, he looked up to see Harlow aiming a frosty look in his direction.

‘You all done now?’ she shot at him.

‘Fokk! It’s been a long couple of quantum-crazy weeks. Didn’t know that laugh was what I needed.’

‘Are you after my food or not?’

‘I’m starving, that’s for sure. But I won’t take your food, Harlow,’ he told her, barely controlling his chuckles.

Her brows rose. ‘You know my name?’

‘I do.’

‘Don’t know yours, and I still can’t see you,’ she said bluntly. ‘It’s getting rather silly talking to a somewhat empty wall.’

‘Your wish is my command, Miss Meridien,’ Kage drawled.

She rolled her eyes in his direction and crossed her hands over her generous chest.

He sent a quick command to his neural node and HUD. His suit glimmered, and he appeared, leaning against the entrance wall to her apartment.

To her credit, she didn’t break out into a scream.

Instead, he watched her eyes widen, her irises tracking the entire length of his tall and broad frame, from his helmet to his low-sheen, fitted meta suit and thick, anti-grav boots, taking note of his side piece and knife slots.

She leaned in, studying the suit closely.

‘I was right,’ she whispered, almost to herself, peering closer to look. ‘A meta-material fractal shield. Built into an armoured suit. No, wait, integrated into a human body. It’s bio-nano tech. Wild!’

‘Impressive deduction,’ he drawled, pulling off his helmet.

Her eyes opened wide. ‘Well, hello!’ she said under her breath.

Harlow

Forget his fractal shield and armoured suit.

The impressive specimen that required intense study was under that helmet and suit.

Harlow swallowed.

He was TALL. BROAD. THICK.

The armoured suit was straining against the mountain of muscle that was ALL of him. His shoulders were a wall unto themselves. His shredded arms crossed over a chest that was generous and bulky. Not exactly flat, but Harlow wouldn’t have dared run into it.

It looked like he bounced boulders off it for fun. His hips were low and muscled. And his thighs! Mother, they kept on giving. The intertwined logs sculpted down to his massive booted feet, one of which was braced back against the wall.

But it was his face that threw her for six.

It was crowned with a mass of short jet-black hair with streaks of blue and silver.

Below a broad, powerful forehead were eyes in a storm of deep-set, silver grey. Further, a broken nose, chiselled and angular. Lips full and lush. Then there was the swathe of jagged scars down one side of his face. Framed by a bushy black beard shot with silver. Under which she could see a stubborn jaw.

She ran her eyes over his face again, noting the lines under and along his bloodshot eyes. He wasn’t some opportunistic food stalker. On the contrary, he was a dangerously potent and armed man.

Hot damn!

But first things first.

‘Who are you?’ she shot out.

He pushed off the wall with his boot, running a palm over his face. Harlow almost touched the weariness oozing from every pore of his body.

‘Kage. Also known as Shadow.’ His voice was low, gravelly, with an intonation she couldn’t quite place.

‘Appropriate.’

‘I’m a friend of Selene Munene. She sent me to transport you to safety.’

Harlow pulled a face. ‘Selene sent you? To track me down in Axuma and send me where?’

‘To Zulu One. The command centre for the Free Dunia Coalition.’

Harlow arched an eyebrow in disbelief. ‘But why would she do that?’

‘We have intel that Massimo Makori, who has some idea of your work here on Axuma, might be trying to get a hold of you and, therefore, of your project’s research. We’ve intercepted comms that he’s hired a group of very dangerous kinais, now active on Axuma, specifically to track you down. We have to get you out of here ASAP.’

‘Damn,’ Harlow said, shocked. ‘And how do you know Selene?’

‘My, shall we say, band of brothers, have been helping the alliance against the coup.’

Harlow was unconvinced. ‘How do I know you’re working with her?’

He tapped his wrist comm, swiping his lean, long fingers rapidly across the screen. Shortly, a 3D holo display popped up to reveal Selene’s face.

‘Harlow honey, this is pre-recorded. Shadow, also called Kage, is a good friend. He’s from Eden II. He’s part of The Sable Group, which has been instrumental in helping us take back Dunia. We also have credible evidence that you’re a target because of your research work which Massimo would love to get his hands on. So please, don’t be your usual stubborn self. Let Shadow bring you to where I am. On Arumba at one of our safe garrisons. It’ll be temporary, hon. The sooner we get Dunia back in our control, the sooner we can get you back home. So pack a small bag, grab your research and get here.’

The display flickered to a close, and Kage withdrew his arm.

‘You’re part of The Sable Group?’ Harlow said slowly.

He nodded.

She was intrigued, given she’d always wondered what or who was behind them. ‘I know a little about your outfit,’ she mused. ‘Rumours have it that y’all run the best ship-building shop in all of Pegasi. You churn out the fastest, sleekest fighters, interceptors, gunships and racing pinnaces. Your security tech rocks, and your weapons manufacturing is state-of-the-art.’

‘Guilty as charged.’ He said it offhand and casually, but she recognised the flash of pride on his face.

‘So where do you sit in the grand scale of things?’

He shrugged, eyes flicking past her shoulder and then back to her face. ‘I’m just a soldier, doing as commanded.’

‘Bull spit!’ she called out. ‘You’re more than that. Selene wouldn’t trust me to just anyone. Plus, your suit tech. That’s high-end and proprietary. I haven’t seen it on anyone else. Neither have I read or caught wind of it. So it won’t surprise me if it’s DCM. And if it is, and you’re walking around in it, and Selene is working with you, it means you’re not just some super soldier grunt. You’re right at the top.’

‘Maybe, maybe not.’

‘You won’t say?’

He smiled at her, but the expression around his silver eyes was tight.

‘Fine,’ she said with a cold smile. ‘Stay smug. Keep your secrets to yourself. I’ll find out anyway. I have my ways and means.’

‘Do your worst,’ he taunted back. ‘Meanwhile, I’ve got a corvette waiting for you and whatever you need to cart off Axuma. Can we move this discussion to your apartment? So you can get your shit, and we can push off this city?’

‘Don’t order me around!’ she shot out, irked by the strange debate and his insistence.

‘Now, now, temper, Harlow,’ he said softly. ‘Get upstairs or wherever your apartment is, pack your stuff and let’s roll.’

‘Not so fast, cowboy,’ she warned irately.

Harlow was about to launch into another self-righteous diatribe when she paused and forced herself to look at him. He seemed exhausted. She spotted a white edge to his full lips. His nose flared, and he yawned. Like he was fighting off an intense urge to nap. Then, she remembered his reference to being starved, and it all came together in her head.

‘You’re hangry.’

‘What the everlovin’ fokk?’ Kage flung back.

‘Yup. Come with me. Now.’

For a split second, she analysed her life decisions. She’d never invited a strange man into her home before. She also wasn’t the type to want to rescue men from themselves. This was a first. What was wrong with her?

The pinched look on his face won the day. She felt an unlikely wave of compassion overwhelm her.

She waved her wrist comm over the apartment building’s door, and it swung open.

She marched in, and he jogged to catch up to her, barely catching the edge with his large palm as it swung shut.

‘Harlow, you’d better be heading upstairs to pack. We don’t have time for anything else.’

Kage’s low voice echoed in the empty lobby.

Still, Harlow’s low heels clicked on towards the lifts. ‘And I don’t have time to debate with your salty, starved and low-glucose ass for much longer. I’m not leaving this city until I feed you.’

She marched through the open lift doors. ‘You coming?’

He stalked inside, ducking under the already high jamb and muttering in annoyance.

The doors shut, and she glanced at his hulking, sulking form.

‘Here, have a curl on me,’ she offered, pushing the box of garlic butter-soaked potato goodness into his nose.

She swore that he almost swayed with need. His helmet fell to the floor.

He flicked a silvery glance at her, then nabbed the box and proceeded to tear into it and chow down with no aplomb whatsoever. His eyes momentarily fluttered with pleasure as his powerful jaws worked.

‘Told you, you were hangry. And those are the best damn potato curls in all of Dunia. Incidentally, the most amazing hangry curse breakers.’

‘Now, who’s smug?’ he taunted between breathing in the food.

Harlow shot him a sweet, self-satisfied grin and chortled.

Their eyes met, his glinting with intense emotion. Like he had the potential to devour and devastate her more than she could ever imagine.

Damn.