The Daring Twin - Donna Fletcher Page 0,38

between lust and love,” she informed him.

He chuckled. “Lust is a good start to a marriage.”

“Lust does not last. Love does.”

“Love can be learned.”

His seriousness startled her. Could he learn to love her? Was she willing to take such a chance?

“Can it?” she answered honestly.

“Are you not willing to find out?”

She stared at him a moment for she had thought she heard a plea in his voice, or did she hear what she wished to hear? He did not really care if they loved or not. She fit the requisites he had set forth in a wife and that was all that mattered to him.

“Your silence means yes,” he said.

“There is much to my silence that you do not know.”

He reached out for her hand. “Confide in me. Tell me what lies in your silence. I want to be a part of it.”

His offer stirred her heart even more, but she wondered if he truly understood what he offered her. To be willing to go to the very depths of her soul, to share all her turmoil and happiness was more intimate than making love.

She tested him. “You do not know what you ask.”

He looked affronted. “I do not speak my words lightly. Talk with me. Share with me. I am willing to hear and to listen.”

The idea of sharing her deepest emotions, her inner secrets with him, made her fearful and she stepped away from him, slipping her hand out of his.

“Do not put a distance between us.”

“It is a distance we both forged,” she said.

“Out of stubbornness.”

Her smile surfaced slowly. “I will agree to that.”

“Finally, we agree on something, which means we can begin to build a bridge where we both can meet in the middle. It will take work building this bridge for it must be sturdy; stubbornness is at least a starting point, but trust will be the firm foundation.

He was willing to work toward a middle ground for them both, instead of him dictating; it surely was a beginning.

“This plan of yours for building a bridge sounds good to me.”

“I am glad you like it.” He held out his hand.

Fiona reached out and took his hand, the first block in the bridge being forged.

Chapter 15

“Tell me of my men, Aliss,” Raynor said, looking out the window at the now all too familiar scene. He had been a prisoner, by his estimation, near to two months—and that was far too long. He had fully recovered weeks ago and it was time to escape.

He turned to look at her. She stood silent at the table that served as her work stand. Herbs, pots, flasks, pestle and mortar were arranged neatly on the table with a large enough space left for her to work.

“I need to know where they are being kept.”

She dusted her hands free of the herbs she worked with and wiped them on a cloth tucked in at the waistband of her brown skirt.

“I know why you hesitate and I attempt to honor your request of not knowing my plans, but I need this information from you.”

“I thought you would—”

“Escape on my own?” He shook his head. “I cannot abandon my men, especially when you have told me that they have fully recovered from their wounds.”

“That is why you have waited,” she said anxiously. “I wondered why you remained.”

He ignored her remark. “My men, Aliss.”

She remained hesitant.

Raynor decided on a different approach. “Do you spend much time with my men?”

Aliss stared at him for a moment.

“A simple enough question.”

She nodded. “I see them only when they are taken out of their cells and allowed the fresh air for a short time every few days.”

“They must enjoy their brief reprieves.”

“They sit and watch what goes on around them.”

“I am glad to hear this, but tell me why have I not been given a breath of fresh air on occasion?”

“Tarr will not allow it.”

“Yet he gives it to my men?”

She shrugged.

He walked over to her. “You could get him to agree to it for me, could you not?”

Aliss sighed, pulled the cloth from her waistband, and dropped it on the table. “Securing a bit of freedom for your men was one thing; trying to get it for you”—she shook her head—“impossible.”

“I appreciate your efforts on my behalf. You have taken very good care of me and I am forever in your debt. I will never forget your kindness.”

“Say no more,” she insisted with raised hands. “I do not want to know your plans.” She placed a few

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