Free The Fall by Christie Meierz Page A

met only once.
    “My love.” The Paran’s soft whisper cut through the welling grief. He had joined her under the tree and wrapped his senses around her, offering love and strength and support.
    She dragged her gaze from her hand to the Paran’s face. His smooth, brown, interesting, beloved face.
    “I love you,” she whispered. Her eyes slid down to the groove again.
    “My heart is yours.” Long fingers covered hers and curved into a gentle squeeze. “Have you changed your decision?”
    “Changed?” She sucked in a breath. She could… see , in a way, the edges of the Paran’s empathic senses curling around her. Her eyes went back to his, then to his hair. Servants had woven it, all of it, into a multitude of thin braids, which they then worked back into ruler’s knots. It must have been where he had disappeared to all afternoon. The braids would minimize the snarled mess that three days or so of no brushing would make of his ankle-length hair.
    He squeezed her hand again, still waiting for an answer.
    “No, I haven’t changed my mind. I think—I think John would want me to seize the day.”
    Tiny lines of tension in the Paran’s face relaxed, and he wrapped his arms around her. The grief and heartache and sorrow that had been roiling around in the pit of her stomach began to ease.
    “We go into seclusion tonight?” she asked.
    “After the evening meal.”
    “How long till it’s served?”
    “It has already begun.”
    She ventured a smile and found it didn’t shatter her face after all. “We’d better get to it, then.”
    * * *
    The heavy, ornately-carved door of the Paran’s private apartments closed behind them. Laura’s heart sped up. Now that they stood on the brink of it, all the reasons he might regret bonding with her raced through her thoughts. A small voice in the back of her mind wailed, What if he doesn’t like what he sees?
    Beside her, the Paran was breathing faster, too. “We are alone,” he said, unnecessarily. The extra guards around the outside of his quarters shone like beacons to senses heightened by anticipation. None stood their usual watch inside. “Are you certain of your choice? Once we start, there is no going back.”
    “I know,” she murmured, turning to face him. “How do we do this?”
    His face lit. “Come.” He took her hand and led her to the sleeping room. Pots of blooming flowers lined every wall, and their fragrance filled the air. “The servants are well-pleased.”
    “You didn’t order them to do this?”
    “No.”
    She took a deep breath, savoring the floral scent. “Your servants love you.”
    “Perhaps it is you, also, that they love.”
    He shrugged out of his robe and trousers and lowered himself to the blankets, pulling her down with him.
    His fingers worked at the fastenings of her robe. She grinned as her robe slid off her shoulders. “What do we do now?”
    A gentle smile played on his lips. “Reach into me with your senses,” he said, taking her hands. His eyes closed, and a soft radiance grew around her, white in the dim light. Though she couldn’t see it with her eyes, it obscured her vision. His heart unrolled like a tapestry before her. Nothing surprised her, but she saw… all the things he wanted her to know, and all the things he didn’t, the dark corners and childish fears offered up along with the strengths. It took her breath away.
    Her turn, now. The blood ran from her face, and her skin tried to shrink. As much as he loved her, as much as they’d shared, her sensitivity permitted her to see more deeply into him than he ever had into her. Parts of her still lay hidden, and the time had come to reveal them.
    His eyes opened. “Have no fear. You have nothing to fear.”
    “What if—”she swallowed “—I am not what you think I am?”
    “Impossible.” He leaned forward to nibble soft kisses across her lips. “Show yourself to me, my love. Open your heart.”
    His love surrounded her, warm and soft, like a blanket.