Page 15 of Enchanted Hero (The Secret Enchanters #1)

Was this what the fortune teller meant? Despite his denials, the old woman truly did see a sliver of the real him. What had she seen in her visions?

So many questions swirled, and yet one burned above all others: When Narissa told him to seize what was his, did she mean Everleigh? If matters were as they were rapidly appearing, there could be only one conclusion.

He’d just have to keep Everleigh.

The fluff of strawberry cotton candy melted in her mouth, syrupy, sweet and delicious.

It was one of many treats Everleigh had enjoyed this day, myriad delights tempting all the senses.

Now the late afternoon sun cast an amber glow on the colorful tents, warming the fairgoers as they laughed and chatted, emerging from the day’s last showings.

It was almost time for the gala, and they were strolling the grounds in the few minutes before they had to prepare.

Despite the incident with the magician, the day had been magical , and no matter how she tried, Everleigh couldn’t convince herself it was the fair.

She simply loved spending time with Alexander.

Something had changed between her and the businessman. As if they’d been friends for years, he drew her into conversation, sharing stories that made her smile and laugh and imagine. Minutes passed like seconds, and hours minutes, and the world somehow seemed brighter with him by her side.

Of course, the events at the magic show arose repeatedly, in countless conversations all around them.

Alexander had been present at both mystical events, and for a crazy few moments she’d considered whether he could have anything to do with the impossible events.

She’d regained sanity a minute later, discarding the fantastical theory.

He couldn’t possibly be some sort of supernatural being.

Although when the theaters lights had blackened, she’d asked Alexander if he was all right.

He hadn’t responded.

He must not have heard her, even though they were close. And his reluctance to believe in anything out of the ordinary was just stubbornness. The fact that talking about it seemed to upset him was also pure coincidence. He wasn’t hiding anything.

And if she kept repeating that to herself, maybe she’d believe it.

“Is there anything you’d like to do before the gala?” He squeezed her hand. “You look worried.”

Did he suspect her thoughts? She wouldn’t share them, at least not yet. She needed a distraction.

She stopped at the strongman game, where a behemoth of a man was swinging a mallet down on the thick base. The puck rode up, reaching “Super Strong” but falling short of “Strongest Man in the Universe.” Onlookers cheered.

He tried again without success. Another man, even more muscular, came next, accepting a kiss from a laughing woman. It was of little help, as he scored even lower.

“You can’t win,” she whispered to Alexander. “I read about it on a local exposé. The company rigs it so it’s impossible to get to the top. You’d truly need superhuman strength to ring that bell. Of course, when the vendor demonstrates, they adjust it so it looks easy.”

Alexander rubbed his hands together. “Do you mind if I give it a try?”

“You can’t resist a challenge, can you?”

He roamed his gaze over her, electrifying her with pure heat. She ignored the flash of excitement. “Come on.” She led him to the line.

“Look, folks. It’s our guest of honor. You think he’s powerful enough?” The vendor gave a cocky grin. The lanky, bald man was fit but not nearly as muscular as the players. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

The man briefly touched the console, and Everleigh nudged Alexander. When he swung the mallet, the puck soared easily to the bell. “And that’s how you win.” He swiped his hand under the console again. “Ready to go, big guy?”

With a neutral expression, Alexander took the offered mallet, then stepped in front of the pole. He lifted the heavy tool. “Now hold on a moment.” The vendor stopped him with an outstretched hand. “You can’t swing just yet.”

Alexander put the mallet down. “I can’t?”

“Of course not. Not without a kiss for good luck.”

Um, what?

“Don’t you think he deserves a kiss?” The vendor spun to the crowd. The cheers grew louder.

“You have an excellent point.” Alexander’s eyes sparkled. “A little luck couldn’t hurt. I wonder if someone would be willing to give me a kiss.” Dozens of eager hands shot up, yet Alexander wasn’t looking at any of them. He was gazing straight at her.

“Do you have someone in mind?” The vendor winked at the audience. “Come on, miss!”

She stepped forward, but her foot caught on the leg of a chair. She stumbled…

Directly into Alexander.

He moved with almost superhuman speed. His hands were so large, they spanned her entire waist, as he captured her, holding her flush against him. How had she not realized how hard he was?

“Kiss him! Kiss him! Kiss him!”

Every cell sizzled on sensitized skin. The air thinned, what remained catching in her throat. “I don’t think–”

“What about a kiss on the cheek? Surely you can’t deny him that.” The vendor waved the crowd closer. “Who thinks the lady should give him a kiss?”

Most said yes, although multiple women continued to vie for the job she kept telling herself she didn’t want. “Fine.” What was a little kiss on the cheek? As Alexander turned his head to the side, she lifted onto her toes and–

The vendor knocked into Alexander, causing him to turn just as she leaned in.

Their lips matched.

The world shifted. Alexander’s hands tightened, locking her in place. Heat burned as his mouth moved against hers, brushing, stroking, caressing. His lips were warm and supple, with spice and unending heat.

He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

They touched along the entire length of their bodies as he surrounded her, grasping her firmly, tightly, possessively .

Every cell was alive in sensation, as she pressed flush against the hard expanse of chest. His arms were corded with muscle, velvet-coated steel under thin fabric.

She pressed nearer, yet it was not enough…

“Wow, look at them. You think there’s something they’re not telling us?”

The vendor’s delighted words pierced the moment, like a mallet to the spell Alexander Stone cast. What was she doing? She pulled back, yet Alexander didn’t release her. She tried once more, and he let go, nearly causing her to tumble backwards.

He captured her again.

Her body was heavy as passion burned, demanding she leap back into his arms and finish what they started. He regarded her like a predator stalking its prey, challenging, stating without words this was far from over. It was almost as if he understood what she was thinking.

The vendor clapped Alexander on the back. “Are you feeling lucky now?”

Alexander’s gaze never wavered. “More than you can ever imagine.” He watched her for a second more, then turned to the game. He brought the mallet down, swinging it hard, but clearly not with all his strength.

The puck soared to the bell.

Everleigh stared. The vendor stared. The entire crowd stared.

“How is it possible?” Everleigh whispered.

“What did you do?” the vendor stuttered.

“He’s amazing,” dozens of people breathed.

Alexander swung the mallet to the vendor, who just managed to catch it. “As you said, it’s my lucky day.” The vendor gawked, then, as if realizing he shouldn’t appear shocked, grabbed a stuffed bear the size of an adolescent and shoved it at Alexander.

Alexander handed her the stuffed toy. It was large and soft and would go perfectly in the break room at New Age Treasures. “Let’s go,” he said softly.

She hesitated, but then nodded, allowing him to lead her forward. What just happened? The game was rigged, and it looked like he didn’t even try. The news claimed it took superhuman strength to ring the bell. Just how strong was Alexander?

Perhaps the console had been broken, or maybe the vendor had forgotten to switch it. Or perhaps Alexander truly was that strong. He’d gotten her company. He’d won the prize. If he decided he wanted her…

Did she have a chance of escape?

Silence ruled as they walked, the game and the kiss replaying in her mind once and then a thousand times. She almost mentioned it as many times, yet what could she say? You kiss better than a romance novel hero. Would you kiss me again, pretty please?

No, she wouldn’t mention it at all. It wasn’t supposed to happen, and never could again.

Finally he spoke, “The deep-friend donuts are delicious, don’t you think?”

Even as she recognized the attempt of distraction for what it was, she grasped it. “Yes, but not as good as the deep-friend cookies.”

“Good point,” he conceded. “Can we both agree there should be a new food group called ‘deep fried crap?’”

“Indeed.”

The amicable conversation relaxed her, especially as they moved on to other frivolous topics. By the time they reached the agriculture area and stopped in front of a large rainbow-hued tent, she was nearly smiling.

The sounds of the farm drifted through the air, a squawking, mooing and clucking animal symphony. Memories flooded her, and she sighed softly. Alexander grazed her shoulder. “By that winsome smile of yours, I’m guessing you did something like this as a child.”

She nodded. “My grandparents owned a farm, and every summer we experienced authentic country life. It was very rugged, and we rose before dawn to tend to the animals.”

“And you loved every second of it.”

Yes, she did. “There’s nothing like that moment right before dawn, with the promise of a new day. The air is cool and fresh, and all is at peace. Some of my happiest times were on that farm.”

“That sounds amazing.” Alexander squeezed her hand. “I haven’t spent a lot of time in the country. Do you ever go back?”