“Aye. I know. Me, too.”
She nodded again, this time more fiercely.
“That is still my strongest wish—to be with you. You say you l-love me enough to set me free.” She dashed a hand across her eyes. “But I want you to f-fight to keep me, Tavish Balfour! I want you to wage battles and vanquish enemies and destroy every last wall that will ever keep us apart. I want you to claim me as your own and never let me go!”
He managed a stuttering breath, but emotion rose so quickly, it stuffed his throat and nose until it found an outlet in his eyes. Swallowing, he pressed a hand to his face, anything to avoid collapsing to the floor andgreitinglike a babe.
He hadn’t known.
He hadn’t understood how much he wanted Isla and a life together. How desperately he longed for that outcome.
But feeling the joy of it now . ..
A terrible sob wracked him. And then another.
Damnation.
First blushing, and now this?
He couldn’t remember the last time he had wept.
“Tavish.” Her voice a whisper.
A hand tugged on his wrist, pulling his palm from his face.
And there she was.
His Isla.
Like himself, tears coated her cheeks.
“You c-can’t cry,” she hiccupped, “because then I’ll c-cry, and I won’t be able to s-say what I must.”
“What must ye say, love?”
She smiled, so radiant. “I want you—I wantus—to wake up each morning and choose each other.” She pressed a palm to his cheek. “And I want us to keep choosing each other. Over the disapproval of our families and the uncertainty of our future. Today, t-tomorrow . . .”
She drifted off on a gasp of air.
Tavish’s vision turned blurry once more.
“Forever?” he whispered.
“F-forever.”
He cradled her beloved face in his hands. He brushed away her tears with his thumbs.
“Truly?” he whispered.
She nodded.
On a shaking breath, he kissed her. Not a kiss of wild hunger or desperation.
No.
A kiss of agonizing love. Of the hope of their promised life together.
The kiss he had given her after their handfasting.
