Ch 19: I love you

Did he feel the same way? She wondered. If he did, he didn't show it or say anything to that effect. Only what he told her earlier about not having problems getting along in bed with her. Wow, was he right on that count? She could stay there next to him for the rest of her life.

The problem was she wanted more. She wanted her hand, the one that was still on his chest, to start roving so she could explore his body, feel every contour, every sinewy muscle that he had under his clothing.

Oh, Lord! She had to quit thinking like that. Her body began to ache and it was such a surprising feeling because she'd never responded to a man in such a way.

Then again there weren't many men made the sinful way he was. Her stomach tightened, and most surprising, her breasts seemed to swell against him.

If she thought she affected him the same way, it was eliminated when the familiar rhythm of breathing started again. He'd fallen asleep.

Yet, she really couldn't blame him. From the moment he'd arrived at her house to take care of everything and her, he hadn't slowed for the next thirty-six hours.

It was dreadful to think that he did all of that for her and Joseph without sleep and she didn't realize it until now.

She felt guilty. Not once did he complain or break from that famous steeled composure except when he held her or spoke softly to her, did she notice something different. It was a tenderness she never thought he was capable of.

Even when she was a teenager, he'd always kept a distance from her, never touching her, ever. Although he said it was because of Joseph, she wondered if that was true.

Was all of this for comfort sake or was it something more? She weighed her memories in her mind.

When he'd found her with that young man, he'd touched her, but only to haul her out of the house, after that, he never laid a hand on her and she wept just as much in shame that day as she did in grief today. Something changed in him when Joseph died.

Did he feel responsible for her or was it something more? Even though he said it wasn't, she still had her doubts. On top of that, she certainly couldn't run around and brag about this tenderness, because it was nothing to write home about.

Not that she had any experience, but she'd read books about passion and sex, and what he displayed beside that brief caress earlier that day didn't lend anything to that type of attraction.

If she didn't know him better, and if she didn't see him that night in Joseph's room, or the way he adored Alice, she wouldn't have known he was capable of love.

"I love you." She muttered softly and shamefully at the sleeping man beside her while closing her eyes. It was a coward's way to say it, especially when he was asleep, but just the same, she managed it and that's what mattered.