She asked a question that would challenge them both and could put a distance between them. “Do you wish to know love?”
“Does not everyone?”
“Aye, I suppose, but I wonder if I or
anyone else really truly knows what love is, and if we do not know it, how then can we find it or know that we have found it?”
He gave her question thought before answering. “I do not think that we need to find love. I think that love is part of each one of us, and that when we learn to share that love with a special person, then we truly know love. Until then we take chances, possibly make mistakes, and learn more and more about love.”
“So then you think that mistakes help us to discover love?”
He nodded. “As strange as it may sound, I do. You have known the strong love of family. If you had not known that love, you would never have recognized the cruelty and selfishness of your husband. You would have believed him to love you.”
“But I thought I loved him.”
“You did love him; that is what makes what he did to you so much more difficult to accept. You understand the goodness of love, your husband never did. You cannot be sorry that you loved him, and you should be grateful that you understood enough about love to let go and suffer no blame for it.”
“If you have not known love, how can you understand so much about it?” she asked.
“I knew the love of a caring and wise grandmother. She taught me skills of the mind and heart, and it is because of her that I have waited to know the love of a special woman. Tell me, though, Brianna, you talk of love; what of intimacy?”
“They are one to me.”
“Then what you are telling me is that you cannot share intimacy without love.”
She gave a hefty sigh, as though giving heavy thought to his remark. And since there was no avoiding a response, she intended to choose her words wisely. “I have shared intimacy without love and it repulsed me. I could not do that again. So, aye, I cannot share intimacy without love.”
Royce charged forward like a warrior into battle. “Then do you question if you love me or if I love you?”
She challenged him without a sword or shield, her weapon his and her heart. “Both. We know each other a mere three weeks and we speak of love. Is it love or our forced confinement, or your tender care of me? Do I feel obligated to you? Do you want me because there is no other here? My heart and mind war with questions.”
“And you fear making another mistake.”
“Aye, I do and because of that I must have answers that satisfy me before I make a choice.”
“Are you asking me if I love you?”
“Have you asked yourself if you love me or if you feel as you do because I am here when no other woman is?”
“What you are asking is if it is love or lust that I feel.”
“I ask the same of myself. Do I love you or do I need you? Is it that I see in you what I wished in a husband, a caring man? Or is it my dreams and wishes that fill my head with these feelings? I need to know this before I go further than a kiss.”
“You have uncommon strength for a woman. Most women would not give it the thought that you do.”
“I know the consequences of not clearly looking before I leap.”
“Are you suggesting that I look clearly before I leap into something?—”
“—you may regret,” she finished. “We know little of each other.”
“Untrue, I know much about you.” He continued before she could protest. “I know how you feel about love, men, family, and children. I know you are strong and endure pain with courage. I know you are not demanding when someone tends to your care. I know you have a generous heart, for you concern yourself with a stranger and his wounds. I know you are beautiful and that your skin is soft and wonderful to touch. And I know how very much I enjoy kissing you.”
“I have opened myself to you more than I realized.”
“Does it frighten you to think that I should know you so well?”
She nodded. “It leaves me vulnerable.”