She threw herself into his arms and hugged him fiercely. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
“So am I,” he said, emitting another soft groan as he wrapped his arms around her.
“This doesn’t change any of my feelings for you,” she said, resting her head against his chest and not ready to back away. His skin was warm and his body had remained surprisingly firm and muscled. He was quite fine and strong for a man in his forties. In truth, more finely built than most younger men.
“Ailis, open your eyes now.”
“They are open. I have been looking at you all the while. Must I care about those scars when there is everything else that is so much more important about you?”
He sighed. “Why do you dismiss them as unimportant?”
“Because this is what they have become with the passage of time.” She hugged him again. “The pain they gave you was important, for that injury put your life at risk back then. But now? Why are you letting these scars define you? And why are you allowing the useless opinions of people you would never allow close to you to affect you?”
He cast her a wry smile. “Are you berating me, Temple?”
“I don’t mean to. It is just that I am looking at you through clear eyes, and I know what I am seeing. If given the choice of you or another to share my life, there is no one but you I would ever want. And I do not mean in anytonway of doing things. No separate lives or separate homes for me.”
“Or separate beds?”
She shook her head. “I would hope to share that marital bed every night.”
He moved away from her to don his shirt and other attire in order to make himself presentable once again. “Dukes and duchesses commonly have separate quarters, even in love marriages,” he said as he slipped the shirt back on.
“That sounds lonely.”
“The quarters are usually linked by an adjoining door so husband and wife can go back and forth at their pleasure without having to pass through the hallway.”
“That sounds much better. I’m glad you showed me your body,” she said as he turned away a moment to tuck his shirt into his trousers. “Thank you.”
He grunted and turned back to don his cravat and vest with practiced ease because he always attended to his own grooming.
She sighed as he shrugged into his jacket.
“What is it, Ailis?”
“Will you give me kiss number seven now?”
“Are you serious?”
She nodded.
He stared at her a long moment and then smiled. “Yes, you shall have your kiss number seven.”
This surprised her, and she smiled in relief because she was afraid she had overstepped with him and he would no longer want anything to do with her.
“But I have one requirement before I give you that seventh kiss,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “I want you to promise me that you will not hold back. If you truly love me, then this kiss needs to be a kiss of love. Will you do this for me?”
She nodded. “I promise.”
It was easy to comply, since these were her feelings and she was never good at hiding them, nor would she ever wish to hide them from him now that she had admitted her love for him.
In truth, it felt freeing.
Perhaps he would reciprocate these feelings someday, for he had to trust her already and she knew he enjoyed her company…most of the time.
He would not have taken off his shirt if a strong bond had not been established between them, a bond strong enough to survive his raw, brutal ache.
As his mouth was about to sink onto hers, she whispered, “I love you, Jonas.”
