Every Time We Kiss

“Tell me what you think happened the day of John’s death.”

She stiffened until he started to rub the long length of her back.

“You can tell me, Jennette,” he murmured.

“I hate even thinking about it much less speaking of it.”

“Tell me, Jennette,” he insisted.

“I’ve tried my best not to remember that day, hoping if I could put it out of my mind somehow it might not have really happened.” She pushed her hair behind her ear and looked up at him.

“The night we first made love, I dreamed about it again. Only this time, everything seemed clearer to me. I remembered holding the heavy sword in my hand. And when I should have been looking at John and paying attention to my feet, I couldn’t help but look back at you.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Oh darling, it was just a dream.”

“No, Matthew.”

“I watched you closely that day because the grass was so slick. I’d told John not to let you take the sword but you both insisted. So I kept my eyes on you. You didn’t look back at me.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I did, Matthew. You might not have noticed but I did.”

“I would have noticed.” He caressed her long tresses. The question burned his mind, forcing him to ask so he could learn the answer. “Nonetheless, why would you have been looking back at me?”

“I couldn’t help myself,” she admitted in a whispered voice.

“Were you attracted to me then?” he asked, praying for the answer he wanted to hear.

She nodded against his chest. “Yes.”

Now he started to understand her guilt. How dreadful to be attracted to a man who wasn’t her betrothed and then to accidentally kill the man she loved. And to have the man she was attracted to tell her of his desire right before she picked up that damned sword. No wonder guilt consumed her.

“The worst part,” she whispered, “is I think John knew.”

The only way they had a chance of being together was if she knew the truth. The entire truth. As much as he hated to tell her, he had no choice.

“He knew. At least, he knew I was attracted to you.”

Her tears rolled onto his chest. If he could take away all her pain he would, but he knew she had to come to terms with this mess. Perhaps talking to him would help her.

“Do you think he’d noticed my attraction to you?”

“I can’t be certain.” He caressed her hair. “He never mentioned it to me.”

“What if he did know?” she murmured into his chest. “I cannot live with that.”

“Perhaps that is why he asked me to protect you,” he whispered aloud.

“I tried so hard not to let my attraction show,” she said, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“Maybe he sensed your attraction, although I never did.”

“You didn’t?” she said with a sniffle.

“No. For all I could see you both were very much in love.” Her desire for him never meant she loved him. If only she could love him as she did John, he thought again.

r /> “Jennette, if the situation were reversed and John had killed you, would you have wanted him to feel such guilt over an accident?”

“Of course not.”