Fighting Fate: Book 2 of the Warrior Chronicles by Leigh Morgan Page A

is trying to say is that we are all sorry this has happened to Taryn. None of us would have knowingly put her in danger. If Jesse had known he was putting Taryn in harm’s way he never would have approached her.”
    Mary took a sip of her now tepid tea. She didn’t want anyone misinterpreting what happened this morning and thereby inadvertently putting Taryn at even greater risk. She set her cup down, trying to decide how to tell these incredibly wealthy people that they erroneously made the jump that this was all about them. The truth was much deeper and more complex than that.
    “I very much doubt Jesse had anything to do with what happened to Taryn this morning, besides trying to stop it.”
    A dog barked in the distance, disturbing a group of song birds. The grandfather clock in the foyer chimed the hour. A tense silence fell over the room as Mary took a deep breath and tried again.
    “Jesse didn’t put Taryn in danger. All that young man is guilty of is protecting her when I couldn’t. He isn’t to blame for those men attacking Taryn. That dubious honor belongs to my long dead husband and events he set in motion more than a decade ago.”
    Mary fished into her small leather bag and retrieved the small box that was delivered to Taryn this morning by special courier. Taryn had taken it to her office this morning and Mary insisted Merlin retrieve it and Taryn’s messenger bag before to coming here.
    Opening the box, Mary pulled out a shiny length of sterling silver and gold chain dancing with vintage charms. She held it high, the light making it glow. “I believe those men were looking for this.”
     
    …
     
    Taryn awoke with a tongue in her ear that made its way up the side of her face. It was rough, gritty even, and emanated the combined scent of beef jerky and parsley. Ick. Batting the thing away she opened her eyes to be greeted by warm, liquid brown eyes full of unconditional love and a lithe sweet face covered with short cream colored fur. If it weren’t for the dog’s breath, her day might have been looking up.
    Wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, Taryn sat up. The dog, curled next to her on a king-sized bed, put a paw on her leg as if to keep Taryn near.
    “You sure are a pretty thing. Too skinny, but the nicest warm blooded creature I’ve seen all day. Maybe I’ll take you with me. Fatten you up a bit.” Taryn said, stroking the animal’s sleek fur from head to rump.
    “Morgan’s a whippet. Whippets don’t ‘fatten up’. It’s not good for their bones.”
    Taryn whipped her head around at the sound of Jesse’s voice and immediately wished she hadn’t. Her head ached like she’d consumed copious amounts of tea laced whisky instead of the other way around. She hadn’t had a hangover in over a decade, and she was pretty sure she didn’t have one now, but the pounding in her temples was worthy of her worst night of tequila induced regret.
    The sight of Jesse fresh from the shower, towel a shade lighter than his skin resting low on his hips, drops of water running over his well sculpted ‘V’ shaped back made her groan out loud. She didn’t even try to hide her attraction, what was the point? He seemed perfectly content in his skin, and little else, as he traipsed around the room, retrieving various articles of clothing. He had a tattoo of kanji running half the length of his back from high on his right shoulder to below his shoulder blade, and what looked to be some kind of bird peeking out of the towel on his lower left hip.
    Jesse was giving her access to his body in what he must have seen as a non-threatening way, but she was threatened. Not by him, he wasn’t laying on the sexual bravado or sending out waves of I’m-going-to-chain-you-to-my-bed-until-you-don’t-want-to-leave. What threatened Taryn was her desire to run her hand under his towel and explore his bird tattoo with her lips. Worse than that, she wouldn’t stop there once she got started, oh no. She’d run her