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“But wanting and loving are two different matters. I might not love you,” she added. She knew that was a lie as soon as the words were out of her mouth. He knew it, too. “Aye, you do love me.”
His next remark stopped her. “You just called me husband. I like that.” She let the blanket drop back on the bed. “Do you like me?” He grinned. “Sometimes.”
“Don’t you dare weep,” he commanded. “You’ve broken my heart.” “I’ll fix it later.”
