“You had no feelings for her at all?”
“I barely knew her. What mattered was that I was doing my duty as the next clan chieftain.”
“But you said your father encouraged you to find love.”
Artair nodded. “Yes he did, and I chose a woman who I felt would make a good wife, and in time I believed we would grow to care for each other.”
“Caring for a wife is far different from loving her.”
“Caring is an essential part of love,” he argued.
“I care for many. I wish to love—passionately love—the man I wed.”
“Passion eventually dies; caring lasts forever.”
She smiled. “Passion only dies if you let it, and it is not only the passion of intimacy I refer to, it is pure passion for life.” She stretched her hands up to the night sky. “Life is full of passion. You only need embrace it.”
Artair stared at her, his eyes narrowing.
“You think me crazy,” she laughed. “But I will take being crazy over your mundane sense of duty.”
“You do your duty when it comes to your healing.”
With a huge smile, she hugged herself tightly. “With joy and gratitude and tons of enthusiasm.”
Artair smiled, her zest contagious.
“What of your brother Cavan?”
“What of him?”
“He found himself wed to a complete stranger. Didn’t he object?”
“At first, adamantly.”
“But he realized his duty and did it?” she asked.
Artair nodded. “It actually turned out well for him and Honora. They fell in love.”
“Love found them, which is usually the way.”
He chuckled. “You believe love finds us, we don’t find love?”
“I do,” she said bluntly. “I believe love is much wiser than we are.”
He rubbed his chin. “You are a strange one, though interesting.”
“Another compliment. You do touch my heart, Artair,” she said with repeated taps to her chest.
“You’re an easy woman to compliment, Zia.”
She sighed. “How lovely my name sounds coming from your lips. It’s as though you felt my name and somehow touched me with it.”
Artair coughed lightly and shifted his legs where he sat on the ground.
Had she made him uncomfortable? And why did it matter to her? She did find him appealing. He was a handsome one, but she actually found his company more enjoyable. After she got past his sense of duty, she spied a different man—one she wouldn’t mind getting to know better.
It was best to end the conversation now, so she gave an exaggerated yawn. “Time to sleep. The sun will rise soon enough.” She hunkered down on the blanket Artair had provided for her. “Pleasant dreams.”
“The same to you,” Artair answered.
Artair watched Zia’s chest rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm as she slept. The firelight danced over her hair, making the golden strands appear as flickering flames.
He had enjoyed their lively conversation, and only now realized that he had learned nothing about Ronan from her, but she had learned much about him. He hadn’t realized at the time that she was asking most of the questions, and that he generously supplied the answers. She certainly knew how to get what she wanted from a man, and she did it so effortlessly.
He could understand why any man would declare her a witch. Without candor or malice, she made men feel inferior to her. Hurt a man’s pride and he would go to any lengths to seek retribution.
Zia, however, was who she was. There was no pretense to her, and that made the knowledge of a man’s own stupidity too much to bear.
He laughed at himself, and he hadn’t done that in a long time. He hadn’t been able to. With Cavan and Ronan’s capture came more duty for him, and he embraced it for he knew he had to. There were times when he hadn’t wanted it. So many times, he had wished for his brothers’ safe return, but time passed and his duties increased.
He had never told anyone that he was relieved when Cavan returned. Many wouldn’t have believed him. After all, with Cavan gone he would be the next chieftain of Clan Sinclare. But he hadn’t wanted that distinction. It belonged to his brother Cavan, who had been raised since childhood knowing it would be his. Artair felt the same. Cavan was born to be chieftain, and he would serve Cavan, as would his brothers. It was the way of things, and Artair had no difficulty accepting his station in life.
He was actually pleased with it. His desire was to meet a good woman, settle down with her and raise a brood of children. He would always serve his clan and family well. That was the way of it and that was his intention.
Passionately love.
Zia’s words rang in his mind.