And then, she was kissing him, his own desperation reflected in the way she pressed her lips against his. Normally, a kiss like this would inflame him; instead, right now, it soothed. Not that Marian ever did not get his thoughts turned in directions that would be sure to earn him a slap if she knew. But, at this moment, it was about a reassurance, a reaffirmation that they were together.
That did not stop him from pulling her across his lap when she held him tighter, needing to hold her as close as possible as their kisses deepened. When he started to want to turn things in a more amorous direction, he moved his head back. This was not the time, much as he wished it were. "I love you," he murmured, framing her face between his palms. "I'm sorry I did not say it more often before, and I will not make that mistake a..." Second time? Third? Trailing off, it occurred to him how many chances he had misspent. He had never told her before he left for the Holy Land. He had not told her after she had regained consciousness in that dank cave. Even after finally admitting it, by accident, he still kept the words in more than allowing himself to be vulnerable to her. "I will not make that mistake again."