“Why do you ask for a kiss?” She blinked. “Because . . .” She paused and then, rallying her courage once more, told him the truth. “Because . . . I have never been kissed. And I should like to know what it feels like, if even just the once, before I die. I cannae ask anyone else for the favor. Ye be my husband, so it must be yourself or . . . no one.” Her words caused something to tumble in him. His shoulders slumped and his expression floundered. Tenderness, she realized. “Oh, Leah.” His hand cradled her cheek. His head dipped before she could countenance it. Before she could anticipate.
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