out of jealousy,’ she said. ‘You’ve the right to choose any woman you please.’
‘And if I’ve already chosen?’ He slid his arm around her waist.
The words hung between them, and she gave no answer for a long time. ‘If it’s a new wife you’re wanting, you should choose one of them. Someone who will add joy to your life.’ She stepped away from his arms, walking slowly toward one of the other homes.
He didn’t like the direction of this conversation. It sounded as if she’d already given up. ‘And you felt nothing at all when you kissed me yesterday?’
She let out a heavy breath. With a hand, she tucked a strand of hair behind one ear, beneath the wreath of greenery. ‘I did. And that’s what bothers me.’
He wanted to go to her, but she had to make this decision on her own. Instead, he held back, watching over her. Amid the drifting snowflakes, there came the cry of an infant. Nothing at all unusual, but the sound stilled him. He heard the sounds of a mother soothing the child, and regret tightened within him.
Had Cristina lived, he might have held a son or daughter of his own. He might have taken the child upon his shoulders, soothing its cries.
Brianna turned and seemed to read his thoughts. The infant continued to fuss, and she glanced toward the sound. ‘Are you all right?’
His expression tightened, but he nodded. From a fold of his cloak, he held out the orange to her. ‘Take it, and go home, Brianna.’
But she made no move toward the fruit. She drew closer, studying him. ‘You said your wife died in childbirth.’
The edge of grief closed upon him, the cries of the infant grinding against his memories. ‘She did.’
‘Was it a son or a daughter?’ She moved closer, and if she knew what her questions were doing to him, she made no effort to stop.
‘I never knew.’ He shook his head, for the babe had died inside her. Often he wondered if he’d made the right decision not to let the healer cut into Cristina. They’d known that the babe was already dead, and he’d not wanted to desecrate his wife’s body.
Brianna caught his wrist and held it. Whether she was offering her sympathy or something more, he couldn’t tell. ‘Why do you ask me these questions, Brianna?’
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. ‘I’m trying to understand you.’
He took her face between his hands. ‘I grieved for them until it nearly destroyed me.’
The sorrow in her eyes mirrored what he’d felt over the past few years. Even so, her hands came to rest upon his chest in silent understanding.
‘I know what you have suffered,’ he continued. ‘And if you wish it, I would try to ease your pain. For however long I remain in Ireland.’
She stared at him, the indecision etched upon her face. ‘I know what you want from me, Arturo. But I can’t change what I feel inside.’
His hands came to rest upon hers. ‘Do you want me to stay?’
For a time, she didn’t answer. The intensity in his eyes allured her, making her want to set aside the past and begin anew. Already she knew the taste of his kiss and the soft swirl of desire that reached into her heart, offering a night to forget.
Even so, her courage faltered.
‘If you stay, I would be using you to forget my grief,’ she confessed. ‘You don’t deserve that. You should be with a woman who can give you the love I can’t. There’s nothing left within me.’
‘Belleza, are you afraid of me touching you?’
‘I’m afraid of the way I feel in your arms.’ She sensed that he would take her to a place where her mind would have no voice, where she would forget everything except the devastating pleasures of her body.
He lifted her hands to his mouth, and she felt the warmth of his breath upon her fingertips. ‘Then I’ll take you home.’
A wisp of regret slipped beneath her defences. This man confused her, offering her glimpses of a life she wanted. But she didn’t know if she had the courage to reach for it.
With their hands joined, he led her back to her hut while snowflakes spun upon the wind, coating her lashes and hair. In the darkness, they walked in silence until they reached her home. Arturo raised her hand to his mouth in farewell and turned to go.
‘Wait.’ Her voice came out in the smallest whisper. She reached out and touched his shoulder, so very frightened of what she was about to do. ‘The orange,’ she reminded him.
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