A kiss. Hell. He should not have imagined such an indulgence. The memory of when he'd kissed her at the stones… the warm wetness of her mouth intoxicated him. But he didn't wish to merely seduce her. His soul had somehow become tangled up with hers, enmeshed. Without her, he would be as stark as an oak stub without its limbs, leaves or acorns.
He wanted to marry her. The sharp truth of it sliced through his awareness, cutting away the needless clutter. Never in his life had he even considered marrying anyone, but to imagine not having this amazing woman as his wife was inconceivable. Somehow she had become as vital to him as the air he breathed. Her beautiful light pulled his soul out of the dark abyss.
"Anna." On impulse, he turned.
"Aye?" She observed him with questioning eyes.
He tried to steady his hands as he took the goblet from her and placed it on the table, then led her to the chair. "Please, have a seat."
"Very well. I hope you'll sit, too."
He didn't. He knelt before her. God help him. He hoped he could do this right.
Alarm reflected in her wide eyes. "What are you doing?"
He took her hand, so small and delicate. He stroked her soft palm with his thumb. "Anna." He stared into her lovely green eyes… so startled and confused. He felt the same way. A moment of hesitation struck him and he dropped his gaze. He was too damaged, mind and body, for someone as perfect as her. Why on earth would she want him? He was a chief, he reasoned. He could provide for her and protect her. He would cherish her all the days of his life; that should count for something.
"What is it?" she whispered, closing her fingers around his.
He lifted his gaze and saw his whole world in her eyes. His future… and suddenly he knew without her he would have no future. "Will you be my wife?"
