Page 63 of King of Obsession

And here I was, traipsing around her goddamn farm, having domestic and gentleman farmer fantasies.

I needed to get my head straight and remember my freakin’ purpose.

But as we walked, our shoulders almost brushing, I couldn’t shake the sensation that Cleo would be a distraction I was ill-equipped to resist.

She led me to a slight rise at the edge of her property. From the top, the view stretched for miles, nothing but wild, untamed bush as far as the eye cast out. It was breathtaking and humbling.

‘This is what I wanted to show you,’ she murmured.

Her eyes were on the horizon, and I followed her gaze with curiosity.

‘Wait for it.’

I did, breathing slow and deep beside her.

Without warning, an unpredictable and astounding burst of color flared across the sky.

A celestial display of intense red and green collided into purple and blue lights that played over the firmament.

I raised a brow. ‘What the fuck?’

‘I caught it on the radio. A major geomagnetic storm is hitting the north and south poles. The result is this spectacular aurora over southern Australia and New Zealand,’ she breathed.

I had to admit, the magenta, amethyst, and ruby skies were breathtaking.

‘Feast or famine, or hope or fear, and in all things, land of chance, where nature pampers, or nature slays, in her ruthless,red, romance.’

I lifted a brow at her exhortation and nailed her with a curious gaze.

‘It’s a line from a poem by Patterson that I’ve cherished for all my life.’

As she whispered, she turned to face me as the sky’s unusual hues washed over us.

I was lost in all of her, at the soft smile on her lips, the fire of heaven reflected in her eyes.

At that moment, I understood how she loved this land, heart, mind, and soul.

Also, how much this slight, strong, savage woman was fast undoing me.

The realization hit me like a sucker punch.

The very thought made it challenging to breathe.

As if her spirit sensed my yearning, her hand reached for mine. Squeezing hard as the aurora above us flared with such magnificence that only reflected how stunning she was.

A stab of caution, doubt, and fear hit on the back of a wave of sorrow.

Memories of my parents and their love flooded my psyche.

Fotto. I hated thinking of how they’d been torn from us, my soul still ragged and worn with grief.

I’d witnessed so much death and destruction in my world.

Beauty never lasted, love never stayed the course, and if it did, it’d be blown apart by your enemies in a heartbeat.

What if I lost her too?

I was about to blow with emotion when she must have perceived something in my expression because her brow furrowed. ‘Alessio? ‘What is it?’

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