Courting Darkness by Melynda Price Read Free Book Online Page B

experiencing it in that vivid dream, she had to admit there was a small part of her that was glad she couldn’t remember it all. But ultimately, that selfish part of her wasn’t big enough to deter her from wanting to discover the truth.
    Why had Liam turned on her, and why had he taken her memory away? What happened during those unaccounted weeks between her abduction and her accident? Did the angel that loved the Olivia in that book—the angel who willingly gave his life for her—still feel the same? Or had something happened between them to shatter that bond? Oh, how her heart ached for him—ached for the truth…
    Olivia’s eyes burned anew with the sting of tears that couldn’t come. She’d cried herself dry mourning someone else’s memories. Her life was as fractured as her heart. She felt like two different people— the before and after. The alarm clock on the nightstand clicked on, sounding a monotonous blare that would wake the dead, which was what it usually took to rouse her in the morning. Quieting the alarm, she crawled out of bed and started gathering tissues.
    She had exactly an hour before she had to be at work. As terrible as she felt, Olivia wondered how she was going to make it through the day on a few hours’ sleep—exhausted, and hung-over.
    The hot shower did little to improve her frame of mind or her condition, and there wasn’t enough makeup in the world to fix this face. Red swollen eyes, chapped nose, blotchy cheeks against the backdrop of her black hair, she looked like the walking dead. Too emotionally exhausted to care overly much about her appearance, she pulled her damp hair into a messy bun, slipped on a tank top and yoga pants from her laundry basket, and made her way down the stairs.
    Her first class was at seven, and she had new members starting today, so she’d need to get there early enough to complete their registration. As her feet touched the floor, the scent of bacon hit her nose a moment before the rich sizzle reached her ears.
    Olivia tensed. Who was here? In her home? And cooking breakfast? She tip-toed across the floor and carefully peeked her head into the kitchen. What the hell…?
    “Good morning, Olivia.”
    She glanced at the table, set for one. A glass of orange juice sat beside a plate filled with scrambled eggs and toast. Tate crossed the kitchen, pan in hand, and flopped two strips of greasy bacon onto her plate.
    “Sit. Eat,” he commanded, nodding at the chair.
    She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised to see him Martha Stewarting in her kitchen, or offended he’d taken the liberty to do so. As he turned to set the pan in the sink, she plopped into the chair with an indignant huff. “For being my guardian, you certainly don’t know me very well.”
    Grabbing a coffee mug from the cupboard, he filled it with the strong black brew and turned to look at her, arching a dark brow as if to say “Oh really?”
    “I don’t eat breakfast.”
    He added her special sweetener to the coffee and then her creamer. Lucky guess on the creamer, there were four different bottles in the fridge to choose from. He crossed the kitchen and handed her the mug. Before she could mutter a “thanks,” he turned and poured himself a cup.
    Sitting across from her, he took a sip, then set the mug down and said, “Well, you should. And I know more about you than you think. I also know you look like shit. You’re exhausted. You’ve been crying all night, and there’s no way you’re going to get through this day without at least a good hit of protein and carbs.”
    Grudgingly, she broke off a piece of toast and popped it into her mouth. She hated to admit it, but he was right. She felt like crap and was running on empty.
    “Oh, did I mention you’re hung-over?”
    “Anything else?” she added with a hint of snark before forking a mouthful of eggs.
    “This coffee is fantastic. I’ve gotta say, I’m delighted with your human beverage.”
    Cute. So her guardian was a