King 02 - Breathless

Printed in the United States of America

Copyright © 2012 Tawdra T. Kandle

ISBN-13: 978-1475027297

ISBN-10: 147502729X

All rights reserved.

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

To my Tiaras…

Annie, Cindy, Devyn, Tami & Tammy…

Your love, support and encouragement have kept me sane through some rough waters. You inspire me and make me laugh. I wouldn't trade any of you…

not even for wine and chocolate

The indie community is a warm and welcoming place, and I am so grateful to those who have kindly and patiently answered questions, given advice and even generously shared their time and expertise. I hope I can pay it forward! I am happy to acknowledge those without whom this book would not be in your hands.

My critique partners at A Writer's Block had an active role in this book, offering their honesty and support. Mandie, Marcie, Andrea and Deana, I hope you enjoy the finished product! Mandie Stevens was one of the earliest readers of the finished project and the biggest fan of the story. Mandie, I will never be able to tell you how much your encouragement, patience and help have meant to me. You are definitely god-mother to this series. Julie Titus, formatter extraordinaire, has been amazingly patient and understanding throughout this process. Elizabeth Sharp designs the most intriguing covers; I am so fortunate to be able to use her work!

Stacey Blake, thanks for listening to me rant and coming up with the best ideas for launch parties, even to the point of great personal sacrifice. (That wine doesn't drink itself.)

My husband Clint continues to give me all the love and encouragement I need to keep writing. My daughter Devyn makes me laugh until I cry. Our son-in-law Greg talks writer with me when nobody else understands. My daughter Haley cooks me the best goodies and makes me coffee when I'm deep in writing. Catie, my proofreader, saves me from embarrassing typos and even a few continuity errors. Thanks for your time and attention to detail, Cate, and for your enthusiasm for this book. And my son David (AKA Pokemon Master) inspires me daily with his imagination and humor.

To all the bloggers, reviewers and readers who have graciously supported The King Series, you have my humble appreciation. Thank you, thank you, thank you…

The sun shone warm on my face, and even with my eyes closed, I could still see its brightness. A breeze blew gently over me, and then, in its wake, I felt the lightest touch of a single finger running down my cheek.

“Are you awake?” The finger stroked along my hairline, and I concentrated on keeping my face immobile and my breathing even. He waited a moment, and then his hand moved down along my chin, tracing the contour of my jaw. He hesitated only the briefest second before brushing over the scars that I knew were still fairly visible along my neck.

Tasmyn… come out, come out, wherever you are…

His fingers moved along my collarbone, and I shivered involuntarily. I heard a quiet laugh.

“Or,” he continued, speaking out loud now, “suffer the consequences.” With lightening speed his hand moved to my ribs and tickled mercilessly.

I gasped and my eyes flew open. “All right, all right! Geez. I was just about asleep.”

“Why don’t we take a walk before you nap? I need to stretch my legs.”

I reached up and slid my sunglasses into place over my eyes. Michael was still sitting next to me on the beach blanket, leaning one arm across my ribs as he gazed into my eyes.

“I think I can do that,” I answered, stretching. “What about Anne and Jim?”

“What about them?” Michael gestured to the blanket next to us. Anne was lying on her stomach, flipping through a magazine, listening to music through ear buds. Jim was clearly asleep; he lay on his back, mouth slightly open. Anne glanced up at us and smiled, then leaned over to brush her lips over Jim’s cheek in a gesture that warmed my heart. It gave me undeniable pleasure to see my friends so happy.

“Okay.” I moved to sit up, but Michael didn’t budge. Instead he leaned closer to me, covering my lips with his own until I lay back again. He flattened his hands on either side of my head, and his thoughts became louder and more intense. My heart was pounding almost painfully.

When I thought I was about to either implode or lose consciousness, Michael pulled away and fell half across me, carefully avoiding putting any weight on me and burying his face in my hair. I could feel his breath heavy against my neck, and I turned my head slightly to whisper to him.

“I already said I’d go for a walk with you. But as far as persuasion goes, that was very convincing.”

Michael laughed again and slowly sat up. I found the oversize shirt that served as my beach cover-up and pulled it on over my head. Michael offered me his hand and pulled me to my feet.

Anne pulled one ear free and leaned to look up at us. “Everything okay?”

“Just going for a walk,” Michael answered her. “We’ll be back in a little while. Better make sure Sleeping Beauty there gets some more sunscreen pretty soon, or he’s going to be in a lot of pain.”

Anne grinned. “I’ll take good care of him, don’t worry.”

We walked along the very edge of the water, letting it lap at our feet.

“It’s so warm!” I marveled for at least the third time that day. I had only known the frigidly cold ocean of the northeast Atlantic or the Pacific; the Gulf was a totally new experience, and I loved it. During this incredible summer, we’d made the drive to the west coast as often as possible, sometimes with a large group of friends, several times on our own.

“I’m sorry now we didn’t bring the snorkel gear,” Michael remarked. “It would’ve been a good day for it.” He tightened his grip on my hand, and I could feel the anxiety banked just below the relaxed front he was putting forth.

We walked in silence for a while, although I could easily hear what was going through Michael’s head.

This is our last beach trip. For this summer, at least. Maybe I can work it out to drive down a few times before it gets too cool. It’s four hours to get home from the school. That’s not too far for a weekend. But then you add in the drive over here… maybe if it were a long weekend…

He was frowning now, and I reached over to smooth his brow.

“Hey,” I said softly. “I thought we weren’t going to think about anything but today. Wasn’t that your rule for this trip? No talking about the future.”

Michael shook his head at me ruefully. “I wasn’t talking about the future. I wasn’t
talking
at all.”