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“Aye, I can.” He pressed his hand against her belly above her womb. “I love you, Bethie Stewart. Any child you conceive of me will be born of that love. You’ll be a light to our children, as you are a light to Belle—as you are a light to me.” She looked into his eyes, saw the full force of his feelings revealed there, felt as if her heart were singing. He loved her . Oh, how she had longed to hear those precious words! And yet . . . “I dinnae know if our love will be enough.” “It will be more than enough.” Then he covered her mouth with his, and she forgot everything but him.” — Pamela Clare
Aye, I can.” He pressed his hand against her belly above her womb. “I love you, Bethie Stewart. Any
child you conceive of me will be born of that love. You’ll be a light to our children, as you are a light to
Belle—as you are a light to me.”
She looked into his eyes, saw the full force of his feelings revealed there, felt as if her heart were singing.
He loved her . Oh, how she had longed to hear those precious words! And yet . . . “I dinnae know if our
love will be enough.”
“It will be more than enough.” Then he covered her mouth with his, and she forgot everything but him.