The Darkest Chase Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
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Two complete opposites fall into a heart-ripping fairy tale in this scorching hot small-town grumpy sunshine romance by Wall Street Journal bestselling author Nicole Snow.

Life is just full of crazy surprises with teeth.
One day you’re the forever single wallflower keeping up the boring family furniture shop.
The next, you’re getting mouth-to-mouth from a scary hot stranger who wants to make your life a thriller novel.
Yes, my disaster has a name.

Micah Ainsley.
Everything I’m not. Nothing remotely good for me.
He’s all wolf—moody, savage, and ferociously protective.
I’m a human puppy.
He thrives on secrets.
Everybody knows what I had for breakfast.
He’s experienced. So experienced.
I’ve never even been kissed.
But when he needs my help to take down a rich creep who just happens to be my new client, I’m game.
I’m ready to live a little.
I’m eager to prove I’m more than a hot mess with a cross-eyed crush on a coldhearted man who’s too old for me.

Then another surprise bites me in the face.
The night Micah claims me.
The moment our wrong becomes reality and there’s no going back.
The darkest chase is on and it only ends one way—sweet dreams or total devastation.

All the small-town sugar, spice, and angsty goodness in one epic slow-burn romance. Remember to breathe as you watch Redhaven’s coldest man thaw for the little spark he’ll fight like mad to keep.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

IN THE DARK (TALIA)

Ithink I’ve been shut up in the workshop without ventilation for too long.

Varnish. Fumes. Lack of oxygen.

That sort of thing.

That’s the only reason why I could possibly be standing here in the open doorway of Grandpa’s shop, blinking at the bright sunlight filtering in, drenched in the smell of spring wildflowers and the warm scent of rising bread from the bakery two doors down.

All while a clean-cut, dark-haired man in a full three-piece uniform with a tailcoat and white kid gloves bows.

There’s a heavy vellum envelope in his hand with A Touch of Grey written across it, closed with a wax seal.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, staring at the envelope with our shop’s name on it. “You must have the wrong place.”

“No mistake, Miss Grey. I’ve been asked to request your grandfather’s company,” the man says. I guess he’s a butler or a valet or something. The way he talks is so formal, polite but stilted and intimidating. He straightens, still holding the envelope, waiting for me to take it. “This invitation provides the time and date.”

“But why?” I blurt out.

The man only looks at me mildly, waiting for me to take the envelope.

Yeah, I’m not getting any answers here.

This is just too weird.

And I have a funny feeling I know who’s behind this, considering the uniform and the fact that there’s only one family here in Redhaven who’d do something this dramatic. Any other rich client would send us an email or call.

But the Arrendells just have to make a big production out of everything.

Breathlessly, I take the envelope gently like it’ll grow teeth and bite me.

By now, I’m used to the Arrendells being the kind of weird only filthy rich people can be. They’ve been the backdrop of my town for my entire life and they’ve always given me the creeps.

Honestly, I’m not sure if I want anything to do with them.

It's not me they want, though.

He asked for my grandfather.

I turn that over as I break the seal. The smooth red wax crumbles against my fingertips, and there’s a hand-calligraphed invitation card addressed to Grandpa.

We formally and humbly request Mr. Gerald Grey for a consultation on a custom commission project. Please arrive at the manor tomorrow at precisely 8:00 a.m.

-L, M, and X Arrendell

L and M—Lucia and Montero Arrendell—the Lord and Lady of the house and also the town’s First and Second selectmen.

X… that must be Xavier.

The only son left in town after the ugly scandals that left two of his brothers dead recently. I’d say I can’t begin to imagine how it feels to lose family that way, but unfortunately, I can.

I glance over my shoulder, through the open door to the workshop. I can just hear the rhythmic sounds of Grandpa working the lathe.

I offer the valet a thin smile.

“Um, this seems less like an invitation and more like a demand.”

His lips twitch faintly. A hint of weariness, maybe?

“Please forgive the tone. The young master is rather accustomed to getting his way, yes. May I tell him he can expect Mr. Grey in the morning?”

“Well… let me talk to him first.” I flash my politest smile, though I feel like I’m putting on a mask. Especially when this guy keeps standing here like he’s waiting for me to go talk to Grandpa now and come back with an immediate answer. I take a step back, one hand on the shop door, my smile frozen in place. “We’ll be in touch. No need to wait around, dude.”

The valet looks like he might protest.

I almost feel bad for him.

Too bad.

If Xavier Arrendell is anything like the rest of his kin—and from the rumors, he’s the most short-tempered of them all—then he won’t like this minion coming home without an answer.

“Sorry to be so short. It’s just a busy day for us,” I say, hastily closing the door in his face before I bustle back into the rear of the shop.

God, I need a minute.

I’m not good with people or unexpected surprises.

And I really do need to talk to Grandpa before we can even think about accepting this invite to hell.

When I step into the workshop, my grandfather stops the lathe. He still uses the old manual kind with a foot pedal, and its whirring grinds to a halt, along with the bassinet leg he’s been shaping.

“Serena?” he asks. “Is that you? Would you mind bringing me a glass of water, please? All this sawdust is choking me somethin’ fierce.”

My heart sinks when he calls me that name.

So it’s a bad day.

He thinks I’m my mother again. He’s forgotten my parents have been gone for over twenty years, killed in a car wreck caused by a drunk when I was just a toddler.

At twenty-seven, I guess I do look a lot like my mother did when she died, though. Now I know I made the right choice, not letting the Arrendell valet see him.


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