The Lion's Daughter (Scoundrels 1)

“I want to go on discovering, Esme—children, family, home—all of life, all of love—with you.”

“Always I have thought of life as a battle,” she said shakily. “A journey, even a difficult one, is better.” Her eyes were glistening. She blinked very hard. “And better still that you wish to make your journey with me.”

“If you hadn’t been distracted by revenge and honor and the rest, you’d have deduced that ages ago.” He looked down at her. “Luckily, I’m not a very demanding spouse. I don’t mind that my wife is not brilliantly logical in every way. Or that my beautifully romantic speech did not move her to tears. One can’t have everything.”

“You do not wish me to weep,” she said. “I become very cross after. And I do not wish to be cross with you. Not tonight—even to make you laugh.” She smiled. “For it does please me to make you laugh, you know—even though at the same time I may be vexed.”

“Because you accept me just as I am, don’t you? You haven’t tried to reform me, only to hold onto me. I don’t want to reform or tame you, either, only keep you safe with me, always.”

He tilted her chin up and let himself be caught, lost in the evergreen depths of her eyes. “I love you,” he said. “Just believe it.”

“I do,” she said. “I will.”

“Then tell me something. Anything.”

“I love you, Varian Shenjt Gjergj,” she whispered, “with all my heart.”

He bent and lightly brushed his lips against hers. “Hajde, shpirti im,” he said softly. “Come, my heart, and show me.”