“I don’t know what else to say, Bella. I seem to have exhausted my meager supply of love words.”
She supposed she should be done torturing him, although she had to admit it was fun watching him wriggle and wince with each word like a lad in church clothes. Clearly, talking about his feelings didn’t exactly come naturally to him.
She reached up and put her hand on his face, feeling the warmth seep through her.
“Perhaps you’d better show me, then,” she said softly.
His eyes raked her face, as if he didn’t quite trust his ears—or his interpretation. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, feeling suddenly shy. “I love you, too.”
A fierce expression hardened his face. “You don’t have to say that.”
She smiled. “I know. But it’s the truth.” She paused. “I’ve loved you for a long time, but didn’t want to acknowledge it because I was scared you would never love me back. And then when I thought you’d betrayed me…” Her voice drifted off.
He stroked her cheek with the side of his finger. “I’m sorry, love.”
She shook her head. “It’s in the past. All that matters is what we do from here. You’re a hard man to love, Lachlan MacRuairi, but I do believe I’m up to the challenge.”
“We’ll probably argue.”
“Aye, it seems likely.”
“I have a bit of a temper when I get angry.”
“I’ve noticed,” she said wryly.
“I can be a mean bastard. I’ll probably say something to hurt you.”
She laughed. “Are you trying to scare me off?”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Maybe.”
“Well, stop—it isn’t going to work. I’m quite aware of your faults.”
He frowned. “I didn’t say they were faults.”
She laughed, reaching up to twist the lock of dark hair that had fallen across his forehead around her finger. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, could she ever tire of looking at him? Their eyes met, and all jesting fell to the wayside. Suddenly, the air fired between them.
“I thought you were going to try to convince me,” she said huskily.
He leaned down and kissed her, answering her command with the soft brush of his mouth. A kiss so tender and sweet it took her breath away.
He tore his mouth away with a pained groan. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never done this before.”
She would have teased him, but she could see how much this meant to him. He wanted to get it right.
“Neither have I,” she said softly. Like him, she knew lust, but not love—not tenderness.
Maybe if she had, her marriage might have been different. Her feelings for Lachlan had given her better perspective on her past and helped her to feel that she could put it behind her, where it belonged. Buchan seemed less the cruel monster of her memories, and more a man to be pitied. He’d wanted her so badly it had become an obsession. Looking back, she could see all the little places her marriage had gone wrong. He’d wanted her to respond, and her defiance only made him try harder. Until they’d entered a vicious cycle from which neither one of them could break free. They were both too stubborn to admit defeat.
“You humble me.” His voice was gruff with emotion.
“And you me,” she said, tears of happiness in her throat. She couldn’t believe this was really happening. That something so wonderful was happening to her. Part of her feared that at any moment, someone would wake her up and tell her that it was all a dream.
His mouth fell on hers again, and she could feel the force of his emotion running through her.
It was all the reassurance she needed. She slid her hand around his head, running her fingers through his hair—which was far too soft and silky for a fierce warrior—to bring her mouth more fully against his.
