Tasting Isla

*Isla*

King Maddox is lying in my bed… with his arms around me. He is holding me like I am something of high value to him, something precious, and for the first time in my life, I start to think maybe I am more than just the daughter of well-meaning parents who had misfortunes and could never quite make ends meet.

Maybe I have some worth to me after all.

I drift off and have pleasant dreams the rest of the night, mostly about him, this amazing man who has me tucked away against his chest, cradling me in my sleep.

In the morning light, I awake, thinking at first he is likely gone, but he’s not. His firm chest is still beneath my head, and when I lean up to look at him, his eyes are wide and looking into mine.

“Good morning, Isla,” he says. “Did you sleep well the rest of the night?”

“Yes, I did, thank you,” I tell him, still trying to figure out whether I am awake or caught up in a dream again.

Why is the king still in my bed?

“That’s good to hear.” He runs his hand along my cheek, ca