The Highlander's Bride(45)
“I’m glad you clarified it for me,” she said with a weak smile. “And I’m glad you didn’t make jest of it.”
“I would never do that.”
“I didn’t think you would, which is what gave me the confidence to speak to you about it. You are an honorable man, another quality I so longed for in a husband.”
“I am your husband,” he said, and stood. “And it is time to seal our vows.”
Chapter 17
Sara didn’t budge or prevent Cullen from joining her on the blanket. She had discovered pleasure in the few intimate moments they had shared together and could only imagine how wonderful the depths of intimacy would be with him. Now, however, she didn’t know if she wanted those memories. They would most likely haunt her for the rest of her life and leave her feeling empty and lonely, and she was lonely enough already.
“There’s nothing to fear,” he reassured her softly, linking her fingers with his.
She regrettably broke the link, easing her hand away from him. “I don’t fear being intimate with you. I fear what would follow, and having lost the woman you love, you know what I refer to.”
“I am glad to have loved briefly than never to have tasted love at all.”
“Then you are stronger than me,” she admitted freely.
His grin turned to a tender laugh. “I’d say more foolish than strong.”
Sara chuckled along with him. “But isn’t it fools who truly love, for they don’t allow fear to stop them?”
Cullen nodded and reached once again to take hold of her hand. “Neither of us are fools, and love doesn’t have anything to do with our agreement. You are grateful to me and I to you, and we do what we must for the benefit of us both.” He slowly traced circles in the palm of her hand. “Enjoy the moment and think of nothing more.”
How could she think straight? His simple touch created havoc within her, causing tingles and shivers to race over her flesh and throughout her body. He leaned toward her and she knew he meant to kiss her, and as much as she wanted to taste his kiss, she knew it would be a mistake, and a costly one.
Regretfully, she eased away from him, her hand sliding out of his grasp. “I can’t do this.”
“But isn’t it best that you do?” he asked.
“It would seem so, but it matters less to me than it once did.”
Cullen looked perplexed, his brow scrunching. “Why so?”
Sara was direct and determined, fighting the impulse to surrender and deal with the consequences later. “I gave it more importance than was necessary, or perhaps it was simply that I wished to know intimacy before condemning myself to an empty life.” She shook her head. “I never realized that it was love I wished to taste, and I owe that revelation to you and Alaina. Hearing you speak of your love for her made me understand how I longed to find such a love and not simply experience sex.”
She smiled at him with saddened eyes. “I want to love. I don’t simply want to couple.”
“You don’t have much choice at the moment,” he said. “Not if you hope to protect yourself from future repercussions.”
“My choice; my consequences.”
“Not anymore.”
His curt response startled her. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “It’s really quite simple. You’re my wife and I take my husbandly duties seriously.”
“Since when?” she snapped, not believing him, or perhaps wanting to believe him.
“Since I’ve come to admire you.”
He admired her? When had that happened? He had wed her under duress and for a specific purpose. There was no reason for him to feel one way or another about her. When had he looked at her differently? What had caused it? She was who she had always been, but then, hadn’t she thought the same of him?
He had simply been a means to an end, and now suddenly he seemed more than that, and not because she found him appealing. He was a handsome man but that mattered little to her. His character interested her. Had he come to feel the same about her?
He eased her back on the blanket and she quickly splayed her hand against his hard chest. She felt his strength; it seeped into her invading her flesh and her senses. It tingled her fingers and sent gooseflesh rushing up her arms and over her body.
She reached up to stroke a small dent in his chin. She hadn’t noticed it before, but in this position with him near on top of her and the firelight casting a wicked glow on his face, she could see all of him, dents, nicks, and crannies.
“We are much alike.”
“It would seem so,” she said, agreeing with the obvious and feeling more than comfortable with it. It was as if they were old friends, knowing the good and the bad of each other, and none of it making a difference. In the end they would, without a doubt, be there for one another.