Still, she held him. She gave him more. “I love you.” On her words, the return of that love swirled into his eyes. When she tried it in Irish, his lips met hers with such tenderness her heart all but wept. “A ghrá.” He pressed his lips to her shoulder, to the side of her throat. And on love, took them both over. Blissful, she clung to him. She could feel his heartbeat slow again, as hers did. Whatever she’d faced during the long day, whatever she’d face on the next, she had right now.
