Love.
Rosalyn Lockhart stared at the man that poured out his heart to her. Her cheeks burned and there was a strange tightness to her chest. She couldn't look him in the eye. What a thing to say… somehow it felt like this already happened before, but it was about him telling her that she was the only one he desired.
Similar, but different all the same.
And she had been willing to accept desire and find logical reasons for it. She was beautiful and the history they had together made some sense that she would be the object of his affection—while he had been working hard to be a Knight, she was the only one he paid attention to.
The young Lady had even chased off the maid servants that looked in his direction or approached him, jealous of any attention that he might have provided those women.
So it made sense.
