Book 5: Taken by the King

Isaac

I pick her up in one swift motion, clutching her body to my chest. I’m not doing this on the couch in my office like she’s someone I brought home after a rowdy night at one of the bars downtown, no.

This woman is going to be my wife in a few days. She’s different. She means much more to me that I’m even willing to admit.

Unlooking the office door, I quickly move through the second floor of the house.

“Isaac,” she pants, gripping my shoulders. “I can walk–”

I turn a shadowed corner and walk down the hallway that leads to my room–soon to be our chambers. The full bedroom suit and adjoining sitting room.

I do my best not to kick down the door in my haste to get inside, driven mad by the feel of her in my arms. Her scent is everything I love and everything I find hard to explain. Like a fresh, clean spring day mingled with a warmth that reminds me of sitting by a fire with a drink in hand after being outside in the cold for hour