Fearless The King Series Book One - By Tawdra Kandle Page 0,141

inches from his.

“Of course you’re invited,” he murmured. “Who else would I want here?”

The wind drifted over us, and a faint scent of oranges filled the air. I lay my head down on Michael, my ear against his heart. I didn’t have to reach to know what he was feeling; it was the same thing that I felt. Utter contentment.

His hand brushed my spine lazily. “Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?”

I shifted so that my lips were just under his chin and moved them against his jaw. I could smell his unique scent, warm and inviting.

“What do you think? It was only the very best Thanksgiving—the very best holiday, bar none, that I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Was it the food or the company?” His hand had moved up to toy with my hair.

“Hmm… let me think. Well, the mashed potatoes were delicious… ow!” I protested as he gave my hair a playful tug. “Okay. So it was the company. It was your grandparents, specifically—”

Suddenly I was on my back, flipped over with a smooth move that left my head spinning. And Michael’s eyes were directly above mine, his hands on either side of my head. He was attempting a threatening expression, but his eyes were smiling.

“My grandparents? They’re what made this the best Thanksgiving of your life?”

I pretended to consider. “Okay, okay. It wasn’t the potatoes or Gram and Poppy, though I do love them.” I framed his face with my hands. “It was you. But you knew that already.”

He nuzzled my neck and moved his lips along my throat. “No, I’m not the one with the mind-hearing ability. So I like to hear it every now and then—that you still—” His eyes smoldered. “That I’m still the one. The one you want to be with.”

“The one I love.” I pulled his lips to mine, and the kiss left us both short of breath. “You’re what I’m thankful for today.”

His fingers traced my scars, as they had earlier. “I was thinking of that at dinner—how differently things might have ended. I was—am—so grateful that I found you… and that I didn’t lose you… and that I still have you.” He punctuated each pronouncement with a quick kiss on my eyes and nose, and then rolled to lie on his side next to me, one arm still across my ribs.

I heard a calling bird in the distance and closed my eyes against the dappled sunlight. It was perfect… but a part of me was anxiously asking how long it could last.

“You’re frowning.” With the tip of his finger, Michael smoothed my forehead.

“I was thinking. About the future. About next year.” My chest tightened and my eyes were damp.

“There’s nothing to worry about. I promise you.”

“But you don’t know. What if you go away to school, and you realize how much better you could do… if you meet someone else, and you find out that I’m really not the one? Or worse, if you didn’t go and then you resented it forever?”

“Hey.” Michael’s fingers were firm beneath my chin. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” I blinked, hoping the tears would disappear even as they rolled down the side of my face. He gently wiped them away.

“You know that none of that is going to happen. I love you, and even if I have to be away from you for a little while, that’s not going to change. Of all people, you should know that—you can see into my head.”

“But I can’t see into the future,” I whispered. “And what’s in your head could change then.”

I expected him to protest, to offer me more assurances. Instead, he leaned into my ear and murmured, “Listen…” then covered my lips with his own.

Tasmyn, you are mine and I am yours. For yesterday, for today and for tomorrow. For as long as time goes on, and longer still. I might not know the future, but I do know this—you were made for me, and I was created for you. Trust me. Trust this. Don’t be afraid.

And lying there, in that time and in that space, with him so near I could feel his every breath, I wasn’t afraid.

One person can create a story, but it takes a team effort to birth a book. I would like to thank Mandie O'Steen Stevens for more help than I can ever properly acknowledge, Christine Powell Gomez and Stephanie Nelson for creating beautiful covers for me, and Julie Titus for her patience and excellence in formatting. My awesome