Thanks for visiting my stop on the Love Historical’s Valentine’s blog hop. Read my short excerpt to find the name of my hero in this scene where the heroine is fervently apologizing for a series of wrongs. It isn’t romantic in the sense of candles and flowers, but I chose this scene because it is the first time the heroine reveals her heart and any sign of weakness to the man she’s finally realized she loves. She has one opportunity to prove her love and win him back, though she may be too late.
EXCERPT
David listened carefully, not certain she realized tears were trickling down her face. She spoke methodically between gasping inhalations. She’d obviously put a great deal of careful thought into what she said and now concentrated mightily on getting all the words out in the right order.
Rochelle grabbed his hand, kissed the back of it then gripped it tightly between both her own hands. “I want to say that I am sorry for all of that. It is an immense number and magnitude of things to be sorry about, but I am. And the most important thing I want you to know is that I love you. I realized it too late, but I do. I love you and I want to be with you, no matter what happens.”
David stared at his hand held in a deathgrip. He cleared his throat. “I must confess, the combination of hearing your words and seeing you weep leaves me speechless.”
She released him, her hands wiping at her cheeks in distress. “ Oh, I did not want to cry! You will think it is some female trick!” She began to sob in earnest, dropping her head to her knees.
“Rochelle,” he murmured, putting an arm around her waist to straighten her. She curled toward him so easily, so naturally, to press her wet face to his neck, spasms of remorse wracking her frame. “Go easy now. Calm yourself.” He rubbed her back and spoke soft nonsense until she was able to recover.
She held on around his waist, drinking in his warmth and solidity and familiar scent, in full knowledge that this could be the last time she was this close to him.
“By this time tomorrow, all will be decided,” he said firmly.
She nodded, afraid to ask exactly what his decision would be.
“We will talk again, after the tournament.”
“Oh, David, please,” she cried, “please do not ask me to wait another day!”
“After the tournament,” he said firmly.
“You do mean tomorrow after the tournament, not five days after it?” she asked with a sniffle.
He chuckled. “Yes, tomorrow, as soon as I am able.”
END OF EXCERPT
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