Aife was fighting the urge to groan and moan and sigh. Never had the simple act of combing her hair felt so good. The man really did have the most nimble fingers she could imagine.
“Here. All done.”
Already? She could have sat there all day, being taken care of. She stood back up on slightly shaky legs and took the comb he was handing back to her. Unfortunately, she could not offer to return the favor. His luscious hair looked impeccable.
“Thank you,” she said, closing her fingers around the comb possessively. She already knew it would be one of her most treasured possessions. “I love it. I will be sure to hide it the next time Edita comes.”
Something hot and fierce flashed in Torsten’s eyes. Anger? “Next time Edita comes, she will not dare steal anything from you, believe me. And she will not dare make you feel like a failurefor being on your own. Because next time she comes, she will see you with a man.”
Her breath caught in Aife’s chest. Did she dare hope he meant what she thought he meant?
“With a…man?”
“Yes.”
With me, Torsten wanted to add. Because, as true as it was that he had come to show her that he could walk and give her the comb he had promised her, he had, in reality, come for a much more important reason.
He was going to tell her what he felt and ask her to marry him. As he’d lain in bed alone in his hut, feeling his body get stronger by the day, he’d had time to think about his next course of action, and there had been only one he could agree on, only one that made sense.
He’d sworn to himself that if he ever recovered the use of his lower body, he would not shy away from what he felt. For the first time in his life, he’d found someone he wanted to be with, someone who allowed him to be the man he could be, someone who gave meaning to what he did and did not make him feel he was lacking in any way. He was not going to let this chance at happiness pass. Too much time had been wasted already, and after his brush with death, he knew that there were no guarantees he would get to live until a ripe old age. He could at least make sure he spent the time he had with someone who made his life complete.
But he could not ask Aife to be that person, not yet. There was one thing he needed to know first.
“Aife,” he began, taking her free hand in his. She was still holding his comb as if it were the most precious thing she had ever held. “There’s something I need to know. Do you still have feelings for Sven?”
There it was, the all-too important question. He knew his brother would never respond to her advances, but that didn’t mean she had forgotten her intentions regarding him. Did the woman he’d come to love, love another man? Torsten’s heart went in his throat while he waited for her answer. As much as he was desperate to be with her, and give what was between them a chance to blossom, he could not be with someone who was lusting after his brother. Any other man would have been bad enough but Sven… It was just impossible.
“No.” The word tore through the silence with the precision of one of Magnus’s double-edged swords.
“You don’t?” It seemed too good to be true. Only a few weeks ago she’d been doing everything she could to make his brother see her differently, using him to attract his attention. “Because you were?—”
“I don’t,” she cut in. There was such earnestness in her tone that he instantly knew she was not lying. “And in truth, I don’t think I ever had feelings for him, not that kind of feelings anyway. I realized it the day we went to the beach together, because earlier that morning he’d asked me if he could come with me and I’d refused. I…” Her cheeks went a delicious red color when she made her confession. “I think I merely lusted after him, it was never…like it is with you. I lust after you as well, but I also laugh with you, I dream of you at night, I worry about you, I want to eat cockles with you, watch you sleep, confide in you, ask you questions, watch the sun set while nestled in your arms. It’s everything with you. I?—”
I love you.
She didn’t say the words, but they still filled the resounding silence.
“Yes,” he agreed, drawing her against him. It was exactly the same for him. “It’s everything with you. Lust, hope, tenderness,gratitude, and just pure, unadulterated bliss. I think there is a simple way to describe this jumble of emotions.”
“Love,” she breathed, her face lighting up with a joy he had never seen on anyone’s face before.
“Love. I suppose that after pretending we had become lovers, it was only a matter of time before we really did.”
“I suppose so.”
They stared at one another a long moment relishing in the realization that their friendship had transformed into something even more beautiful. He smiled to himself. Not so long ago he’d been hoping that fate would place what he needed in front of him and that he would be astute enough to recognize the opportunity and seize it. Against all odds, he had.
“You know, my mother told me the other day that I was in the hut with her and your mother the night you were born. I slept through the whole labor and when I woke up, I walked over to you. Apparently, the steps I took to reach the pallet were my first real ones. As soon as I saw you, I took your hand in mine. You grabbed my little finger and refused to let go.”
The awe he saw in Aife’s eyes mirrored the swelling he felt in his chest. “I did?”
“Yes.” He closed his fingers around her wrist, encircling it. “It seems I was the first man to ever touch you and I want to make sure I’m the last one as well.”
That was what his mother had tried to make him understand that day, Torsten now realized, that he would never want to let go of her.
She smiled. “I want you to be the last one, too. The only one.”
“So what say you? We pretended to be a couple to make others believe we cared about one another. Will you marry me to show them that we do belong to each other? To make my life complete? To?—”
