Marriage Without Love & More Than a Convenient Marriage?

He laughed a little, the sound one of husky joy. “You are.” He drew back, cupping her face as he looked for confirmation in her eyes. “You are.”

She bit her lips, holding back the longing as she nodded. “I am. It’s enough.”

The radiant pride in his expression dimmed. “Enough?”

“Knowing that our union matters to you. That you want me as your wife. That we can be a family.”

He sat back, hands falling away from her. “What are you saying? What does all of that do for you?”

“What do you mean? It’s good, Gideon. I want to carry on as we were, treating this like a real marriage. We don’t have to change anything or bring up your past or involve any lawyers. My brothers know why we separated, but no one else does. You are Gideon Vozaras. I’m Mrs. Vozaras. It’s all good.”

He stood abruptly, his mood shifting to acute dismay. “And why are you staying married to that man? That name?”

“Because—” I love him. Her heart dipped. She wasn’t ready to put herself out there again and get nothing in return. “There’s no point in shaking things up. I read those papers you sent and they say that I have a case to take you to the cleaners, but I don’t want that. I’m fine with us being married in a common-law sort of way. No use rocking the boat.” There, she was using language he understood.

Or should, but his jaw was like iron as he moved to the window and showed her a scant angle of his profile and a tense line across his shoulders.

“You asked me if we were falling in love,” he reminded.

“It was never part of our deal. I can live without it,” she hurried to say.

“I can’t.”

His words plunged a knife into her. She gasped and looked wildly around as she absorbed what it could mean if he wanted a marriage based on love, but was stuck with her—

“For God’s sake, Adara. Are you still not seeing what you mean to me?” He was looking over his shoulder at her, incredulous, but incredibly gentle too.

“What?” Her breast was cold and she realized the baby had fallen asleep and let her nipple slip from his mouth. She wished for extra hands as she tried to cradle the baby and cover herself at the same time.

Gideon walked over and grasped her chin, forcing her gaze up to his. A fire burned in the back of that intense gaze, one that sparked an answering burn in her.

She still wasn’t sure, though...

“You’re not bound to me legally, but that doesn’t matter if I own your heart,” he told her. “I want you, body and soul. If there’s something standing in the way of your loving me, tell me what it is. Now. So I can fix it or remove it and have you once and for all.”

“I—” She almost lost her nerve, but sensed it really was time to let go of the last of her insecurities and be open about what she wanted. Grasp it. Demand it. “I want you to love me back.”

She wasn’t just wearing her heart on her sleeve, she’d pinned it to the clothesline and wheeled it out into the yard.

A look of unbelievable tenderness softened his harsh expression. “How could I not?”

She slowly shook her head. “Don’t make it sound like it’s there just like that. I was awful to you. I know that you’ve lost people close to you and don’t want to be hurt again. It’s okay that you’re not able to love me yet. I can wait.” Maybe. She set her chin, determined it wouldn’t tremble despite the fact her heart was in her throat.

If only he wasn’t so confusing, smiling indulgently at her like that.

“You do love me.” He cradled the side of her face in his palm, scanning her face as if he was memorizing it, and she suddenly realized she must look like something the cat had coughed up. Her hair hadn’t been washed, she’d barely rinsed her mouth with a sip of water.

Self-consciously she lifted the baby to her shoulder and rubbed his back, using him as a bit of a shield while she worked at maintaining hold of her emotions.

“I love you quite a bit, actually,” she confessed toward her blanket-covered knees. “It’s not anything like what I feel for the other men in my life. This one included.” She hitched the baby a bit higher and couldn’t resist kissing his little cheek, even as her soul reached out to his father. “I don’t know how to handle what I feel for you. When my father was mean to me, it hurt even though I didn’t care about him, but it’s nothing compared to how much it hurts when you love someone and trust him and think they don’t care about you at all.”

“I know,” he growled. “Losing someone to death is agony, but it’s even worse knowing the person you love with all your heart is alive and doesn’t want to see you.”

Hearing how much he loved her was bittersweet. She stared at him in anguish, not wanting the power to hurt him that badly, but seeing from his tortured expression that she had. There were no words to heal, only an urge to draw him close so she could try to kiss away his pain.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I know, me, too. I love you so much.”