‘You can’t blame yourself completely.’
‘And neither can you. We can both accept our guilt and then move on. Forgiveness doesn’t come without that.’ He tilted her chin so she was gazing up at him again, and she saw his face soften with warmth, with acceptance, with love. ‘I love you and I want us to have a real marriage. A real family. Do you want that?’
Freya’s throat was tight with tears, so she could only nod. He brushed her damp cheek with his thumb. ‘You’re crying.’
‘I seem to be doing that a lot lately,’ she admitted with a shaky laugh. ‘And after not crying for so long. But these are good tears.’#p#分页标题#e#
‘When I first met you,’ Rafe said, ‘I thought you were so controlled, so cold. You didn’t seem to have any emotion at all. And there I was, boiling with rage and fear and desire.’
Freya laughed softly. ‘Desire?’
‘Yes—for you. From just about the first moment I saw you in that boring black skirt. You made it look very sexy.’
‘You’re right, though,’ Freya confessed quietly. ‘I’d almost fooled myself into thinking I didn’t feel anything at all. I didn’t want to feel because I knew it would hurt. And yet from just about the first moment I met you you made me feel. So much. And that was very scary.’
‘It still is a little bit, isn’t it?’ Rafe said soberly. ‘I was scared to tell you I loved you—that’s why I looked so grim this morning.’
‘And now?’ Freya asked with a tremulous smile.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘I’m a very happy man.’
Rafe tipped her chin up so their eyes met, and then their lips did, in a soft, sweet kiss that made every part of her ache.
The kiss was a promise, a balm, and it told Freya that the past really was finished. Forgiven. And the future lay before them—bright, shining and new.