After Arran had run off, she tasted freedom
like she had never known before. She had been grateful to her
brother, Ian, and her sister-in-law, Moira. They both had helped
her through a difficult situation. And Moira had helped her to
rebuild her self-esteem and gain her freedom.
Brianna had grown accustomed to making her
own choices, and she intended to keep it that way.
She did not want to seem ungrateful, for
Royce had done much for her, but she wished him to understand how
she felt.
She sat in bed, the pillows tucked firmly
behind her back, and the wool blankets tucked around her and his
fur cloak thrown across her legs. Her blue shawl was wrapped around
her shoulder for added warmth, and she had pinned her hair up with
a comb.
She felt comfortable and confident when she
turned her attention to where he sat at the table working on his
arrows. She was not prepared for the way her heart jumped at the
sight of him. The firelight reflected off his dark hair and cast a
partial shadow across his face, concealing his scars and making him
a man of mystery.
She thought the shadows not only concealed
his face but his identity as well. The shadows kept him well hidden
from prying eyes and perhaps from himself. Why, then, did she find
this mystery man so very appealing?
Why did the shadows not disturb her? Why did
she feel she understood him? And why did her heart pound so
strongly in her chest when she gazed upon him?
“Did you need or want something,
Brianna?”
“I would like to talk with you.”
He did not hesitate. He placed the arrow he
worked on down on the table, wiped his hands with a clean cloth,
and walked over to the bed.
She watched him. He moved with purpose, as
though every step were orchestrated, every motion intentional. He
was a man of confidence with a touch of arrogance, yet he possessed
a tremendously caring heart.
He sat beside her on the bed. “I am at your
service.”
She had not thought of him that way, but he
was actually at her service. When she needed something, he was
there. He looked after her every need, and here she was about to do
what? Be selfish when he was being unselfish.
He wanted her to follow his orders because
of her own foolishness. If she had not attempted to get out of bed
on her own he would never have ordered her to obey him. And he
really did not order her about and he gave her choices. He had
asked her when she wished to do things.
He had never really forced her to do
anything, not even kiss him.
“Deep in thought again?” he asked and leaned
close to steal a faint kiss.
Her heart simply melted and she felt guilty
for her selfish thoughts.
‘Tell me what troubles you, for the worry is
clear on your face.”
She bit at her lower lip, no longer feeling
the urge to discuss the matter with him and wondering what to say
to him.
He smiled. “Thinking twice about what you
wished to say?”
She loved his smile; even with his wounded
lip and swollen eye his smile remained magical. His smile always
lightened her heart and was contagious. It was a genuine smile,
never forced, never deceitful. He smiled because he felt it in his
heart.
“I have changed my mind; I do not need to
talk with you.”
His laughter was a soft rumble. “You think
now that I am not curious.”
“It is not important.”
“It was important enough only moments
ago.”
She shrugged. “I have changed my mind.”
“I wish to know.” His smile remained, though
his tone was firm.
“I do not find it necessary to discuss with
you.”
“Have you lost your courage, then?”
She bristled at his accusation, though he
said it in a teasing manner. “Nay, I told you I have changed my
mind.”
“Then what will it matter if you tell
me?”
She was annoyed at him for pressing the
matter and annoyed at herself for having allowed the matter to
trouble her. And would it really matter if she did discuss it with
him, or was it her own stubbornness that caused her this worry?
“I am patient. I can sit here for the
remainder of the day—and wait for an answer.”
She stubbornly remained silent.
He ran his lips over hers ever so lightly,
sending a shiver through her. ‘Talk to me, Brianna, I will
listen.”
His understanding often confused her, though
it was more her own misunderstanding that brought on the confusion.
She expected him to be like most men, and he was not like any man
she had ever known.
She sighed in resignation. What else was
there for her to do but talk with him? “I had wished to discuss my
not having to ask your permission to move about and such. I am
feeling much stronger and not so foolish.”
He chuckled beneath his breath.
She poked him in the arm and doubted he felt
it, for it was a solid wall of muscle she hit.
He brushed his lips over hers once again.
“It takes courage to admit the truth.”
He was right about that. It had taken her
courage to admit the truth about her husband and marriage, and once
done it had taken her courage to go on. Now was not the time to
dismiss all she had gained.
“I know I had foolishly taken a chance that
day I attempted to stand on my own. It has taken time for me to
regain my strength, and once I did I never wanted to lose it again.
So now I stubbornly hold on to it so that it can never be taken
away from me.”
His expression turned serious, for he
clearly understood what she was attempting to tell him and he
admired her courage. “You are stubborn, courageous, and beautiful,
and I have no doubt that your strength will forever be with you.
And if you feel well enough and”—he cleared his throat with a
laugh—”no longer foolish, then I see no reason why you need my
permission to do anything.”
She smiled like a child who had just
received an astonishing present.
“I but ordered you to obey me out of fear,
Brianna. When I saw you in pain on the floor, I was angry with
me
for leaving you unattended.”
“Nay, it was my fault,” she insisted, her
hand going to gently cup the side of his face.
He loved when she touched him; her skin was
so warm and soft. “It seems that we both are stubborn.”
“Then we will better understand each
other.”
“I think we already understand much about
each other, and I like what I understand,” he said, turning his
face into her hand to kiss her palm.
She sighed as his tender kiss sent a ripple
of pleasure cascading over her. “I am confused at times, for these
emotions are not familiar to me.” She shook her head as though her
own words added to her confusion. “I thought I had but now—” She
shook her head again. “I do not know.”
He understood what she did not, but she
needed to learn herself. He clearly understood how she felt, for he
felt the same way, only he did not question it. He wished to
experience every feeling, every moment, and every thought as they
fell in love together.
“You do not need to know right now—simply
feel.” He encouraged her with another kiss to her palm.
“I feel when you kiss me.” She sounded
breathless.
“What do you feel?” He wanted her to speak
of it, understand it, and respond.
“Your kiss washes over me, touches all of
me, and makes me more sensitive to my senses.”
“Do you like the feeling?”
She giggled softly as though she did not
wish to betray a secret. “Very much.”
“Would you like to know how I feel when I
kiss you?”
She nodded with enthusiasm. “Aye, I very
much would.”
He took her hand from his cheek and held it,
bringing his mouth close to hers. “When your lips touch mine,
tingling warmth begins to spread through me. It starts slow, but as
our lips mate the heat grows and rushes through me. My flesh grows
hotter, my heart pounds, and I fight the ache to become intimate
with you.”
She fell silent at his words but only for a
moment, for she had felt as he did, and she wished to be as honest
as he. “I am familiar with the feeling.”
He stared at her for several silent moments.
“So this feeling is mutual?”
“Aye, it is.” Her answer was brief, for she
was not certain how to respond or where her response would take
them.
He ran his lips over hers once, twice,
paused, then kissed her gently. He looked into her eyes and asked,
“What, then, should we to do about it?”
The answer was clear, though Brianna could
not bring herself to say so. She remained in silent thought,
staring back at Royce.
“I will have an answer from you, Brianna,”
he said without demand.
She found her voice without difficulty.
“Will I have an answer from you?”
“Aye, if you are ready to hear it.”
Was she ready? Since she asked herself that
question, she wondered if she was. “I need to talk of this with you
before I can answer. Is that all right with you?”
“Of course, I do not expect you to hurry
into something so very important if you are hesitant about it. Talk
with me, talk with yourself, and when you feel comfortable enough
to answer, then answer me.”
“Can we talk now?”
“I would like that.”
She gave his hard chest a slight shove. “I
cannot think clearly with you so close.”
He accommodated her. He sat back, resting
his hands in his lap. “Enough distance?”
“I do not want you far away from me.” Her
words gave her pause to think, for she did not wish him a distance
from her. She wished him near.
“I will never be far away from you, Brianna.
I will always be close by in body, mind, and spirit.”
His words brought joy to her heart and a
smile to her face. “Then I will never feel alone.”
“Nay, for I will always be with you.”
She asked a question that would challenge
them both and could put a distance between them. “Do you wish to
know love?”
“Does not everyone?”
“Aye, I suppose, but I wonder if I or anyone
else really truly knows what love is, and if we do not know it, how
then can we find it or know that we have found it?”
He gave her question thought before
answering. “I do not think that we need to find love. I think that
love is part of each one of us, and that when we learn to share
that love with a special person, then we truly know love. Until
then we take chances, possibly make mistakes, and learn more and
more about love.”
“So then you think that mistakes help us to
discover love?”
He nodded. “As strange as it may sound, I
do. You have known the strong love of family. If you had not known
that love, you would never have recognized the cruelty and
selfishness of your husband. You would have believed him to love
you.”
“But I thought I loved him.”
“You did love him; that is what makes what
he did to you so much more difficult to accept. You understand the
goodness of love, your husband never did. You cannot be sorry that
you loved him, and you should be grateful that you understood
enough about love to let go and suffer no blame for it.”
“If you have not known love, how can you
understand so much about it?” she asked.
“I knew the love of a caring and wise
grandmother. She taught me skills of the mind and heart, and it is
because of her that I have waited to know the love of a special
woman. Tell me, though, Brianna, you talk of love; what of
intimacy?”
“They are one to me.”
“Then what you are telling me is that you
cannot share intimacy without love.”
She gave a hefty sigh, as though giving
heavy thought to his remark. And since there was no avoiding a
response, she intended to choose her words wisely. “I have shared
intimacy without love and it repulsed me. I could not do that
again. So, aye, I cannot share intimacy without love.”
Royce charged forward like a warrior into
battle. “Then do you question if you love me or if I love you?”
She challenged him without a sword or
shield, her weapon his and her heart. “Both. We know each other a
mere three weeks and we speak of love. Is it love or our forced
confinement, or your tender care of me? Do I feel obligated to you?
Do you want me because there is no other here? My heart and mind
war with questions.”
“And you fear making another mistake.”
“Aye, I do and because of that I must have
answers that satisfy me before I make a choice.”
“Are you asking me if I love you?”
“Have you asked yourself if you love me or
if you feel as you do because I am here when no other woman
is?”
“What you are asking is if it is love or
lust that I feel.”
“I ask the same of myself. Do I love you or
do I need you? Is it that I see in you what I wished in a husband,
a caring man? Or is it my dreams and wishes that fill my head with
these feelings? I need to know this before I go further than a
kiss.”
“You have uncommon strength for a woman.
Most women would not give it the thought that you do.”
“I know the consequences of not clearly
looking before I leap.”
“Are you suggesting that I look clearly
before I leap into something—”
“—you may regret,” she finished. “We know
little of each other.”
“Untrue, I know much about you.” He
continued before she could protest. “I know how you feel about
love, men, family, and children. I know you are strong and endure
pain with courage. I know you are not demanding when someone tends
to your care. I know you have a generous heart, for you concern
yourself with a stranger and his wounds. I know you are beautiful
and that your skin is soft and wonderful to touch. And I know how
very much I enjoy kissing you.”
“I have opened myself to you more than I
realized.”
“Does it frighten you to think that I should
know you so well?”