Free Thy Name Is Love (The Yorkist Saga) by Diana Rubino

me. ‘Tis the fact that I lost over you . So I am
     going to take him on again, and I will beat him this time. I will
     take on the entire French army single-handedly if I have to."

She shook her head, wondering what demon had possessed her
     normally calm and confident spouse. "Valentine, really, there's no
     need—"

"I am going to do what it takes to prove myself to you, then you
     will beg me to love you!" He knelt before her and grabbed her by
     the shoulders, forcing her onto her back.

"Conquering armies, brute force, and worldly power is not what it
     takes to get me to love you!" She struggled to prop herself up on
     her elbows before he laid her full length on the rug.

"Then what does it take? Am I ever to know that?" His eyes spat
     out chips of blue ice and his brows knitted into a rigid line.

She was wedged between him and an oak chair, its ornate carvings
     digging into her back.

She shook her head. "Love cannot be forced, Valentine! You cannot
     even force your own flesh and blood to love you! No one was able
     to make my mother love me enough to keep me! It must come
     naturally, not given out like a medal for decimating an army.
     Conquering a heart isn't like conquering an enemy. Sometimes it's
     harder."

She struggled to break free, but he bent over from the waist and
     seized her in hands so strong, she knew he could hurt her
     seriously.

"Let me go! I am not your poleaxe!"

He pulled her up to him and she cried out in pain as he wrenched
     her arms forward. He lifted her clear off the floor so that she
     was suspended in air, her feet dangling.

Their lips were nearly touching and he spoke as if telling a
     story, "When the Queen's orders came that I was to marry you, I
     danced and tumbled with joy. I thought, ‘A-ha! I shall win her
     now!' for that was the one thing I would have that no one else
     could."

"Nay sir, I am no thing , no possession," she protested
     as she kicked and struggled to be free of his grip.

"The King has his court, Richard has his north country, but I was
     to have silver-haired Denys Woodville, the only woman I'd ever
     wanted. Now you are my wife, and I still cannot have you!"

He paused for breath, relinquished his grip and turned away. She
     tumbled to the floor, rubbing her arms where he'd clutched them.

She felt no fear, but a strange urge to comfort him. His fists
     were clenched, about to strike the wall, the veins hard and blue
     against his neck.

"Valentine, I am not a trophy to parade around. Winning me isn't
     like winning a battle."

"‘Tis because of battle I've lost everything." He seemed calmer
     now, and he sank into the chair by the fire, and rested his cheek
     on the fist of one hand. "Maybe all I am fit for is war. Maybe I
     really don't know how to love."

He talked as if to himself, and she couldn't tell if he wanted to
     laugh or cry. He was enmeshed in such a tangle of emotions,
     voicing her own feelings would just make it worse.

Her heart went out to him in painful empathy. Behind his confident
     deportment, he was as lost as she in the maze of courtly intrigues
     they had found themselves in, and the day to day challenges of
     living as husband and wife.

Now she could see what Richard had been saying that day long ago
     when she had confided her fears to him about the man she was
     expected to marry. Valentine was hiding behind a curtain of his
     own anguished uncertainty. Ever the man of action, he wanted to
     fight, but the enemy was himself.

And her ,
     she had to admit. His own wife, the one person he should have been
     able to count on.

"Stop thinking in terms of battles," she said gently after a time.
     "Not everything worth having has to be gained by force. I am here,
     and you won't win me that way."

"I already have you, but I certainly haven't won, have I?" he said
     with obvious bitterness.

She blinked and tried again to be reasonable. "You are a titled
     and landed nobleman. You have always had that, and family,
     parents.