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“I was … like that battered old chest of my grandfather’s,” he said grimly. “The keyhole was so rusted up I didn’t think anyone would ever get in.” He was silent a moment, and she did not dare speak. “I thought I was a damned lost cause, Aimee, before you came along. I know I have no right to ask this, wife, but I want you to love me again.”

“What?” she gasped, almost unable to believe her ears.

“I know ’tis my own fault you do not,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “After what I did at the summer tournament, giving that crown to another. I know now that was unforgiveable, and the gods know I have plenty of faults beside that.”

He swallowed as his voice grew choked. “But I want you to try and overlook them all. Will you, Aimee?” There was so much longing in his tone that she could only stare and try to catch her breath. “Then I would scarcely care about anything else. Even if I never again lift another trophy.”

“But you did win something, Konrad,” she managed to tell him through sudden tears. “You won the trophy for the most liked knight. And you won something else,” she said in a choked voice. “You won my poor heart all over again.”

“Aimee!” His voice was hoarse. “Say that again, sweetheart.”

“You made me fall in love with you all over again.” Tears were coming thick and fast now, trickling down her cheeks. His grasp on her tightened, but she did not even flinch. “In vain, I tried to guard my heart against you, but it did not work,” she sobbed. “If you asked it of me, I would even wear a heraldic gown again. In your colors. To every tournament, if you desired it.”

“I do desire it,” he growled. “The gods help me, I should never dare make such a request after the way I behaved, but I do desire it.”

“Then I will wear it,” she laughed tearily. “Though I will need a new one, for that other is not fit to be seen … Mmmf!” Her words were cut off as he crushed his mouth to hers, and for a long moment, Aimee gave herself up to the sensation of being consumed by Lord Kentigern’s kiss.

Her heart seemed almost to stutter to a halt in her chest before pounding into life again. She clung onto his massive shoulders for dear life and scarcely noticed when he turned them both and bore her down to the mattress.

“Ah gods,” he groaned raggedly against her mouth moments later. “I don’t deserve you, Aimee Bartree.”

“Ouch!” she cried, and he froze. Reaching behind her, Aimee plucked a bent token from where it had become wedged between her back and the mattress. “These things have sharp edges,” she complained.

He gathered her in his arms and rolled onto his back, so she lay on top of him.

“Aren’t they digging into you now?” Aimee asked in concern. “Your back is bare.”

“I don’t mind it,” he replied. “My hide’s thicker than yours.” His hands roamed over the silky fabric covering her back and hips. “Let’s take this off,” he suggested.

They took it off.

“I meant to be calm and considerate,” Konrad panted sometime later. “But you reduced me to a frenzy again.” He sounded regretful.

“You were considerate,” Aimee murmured, running her hands over his hairy chest. “I will never, ever grow tired of this wonderous body,” she sighed, making him snort. She reached down to peel off a token which was stuck to his upper arm and showed it to him. “It has left the impression of a true lover’s knot on your arm,” she said tracing it with her finger. He turned his arm and glanced down at it but made no comment. “I would give you five of these tokens, just for the pleasure of beholding you naked,” she confessed with great daring.

A lazy grin spread across his face. “I would give you ten.”

Lightly, Aimee pressed a fingertip to the upturned corner of his mouth. She loved seeing his smile. It was everything she had hoped it would be, and somehow more. “Ten to look at me or for me to look at you?” she asked teasingly, hoping to see more.

“Fifty to look at you,” he said, his eye kindling.

“Fifty?” She quirked an eyebrow at him and tipped her head to one side. “How much is an ‘I love you’ worth in tokens?”

“One hundred,” he responded at once.

“One hundred tokens?” she repeated. “That’s a lot.”

“Yes.”

“How much is it worth … when I take care of you and rub lotion all over your body?” she ventured thoughtfully.

He rolled on top of her, sweeping tokens off the bed and onto the floor with a brush of his arm. “I really like that, Aimee. You know I do. But nothing’s worth as much as a hundred tokens, except an I love you.”

Aimee caught her breath. “Oh,” she said. They gazed at each other for a long moment.

“I’m waiting,” he said tersely.

Aimee laughed. “Personally, I think it’s worth more when it is given freely without prompting!”