Part of her had worried he'd push her away, turn her down out of misplaced chivalry, or because he doesn't want her. This is, after all, a strange situation; they aren't interchangeable with themselves, but there's a shared bond that carries more weight than it could in her own moment.

And she thinks: what if I don't? What if he's right, and someone has sent her here to die, to keep him from giving her these years? What if it all ends in a month, or three months, in his secluded house-- what if this is all she gets?

It's a terrible reason to do what she's doing, she knows. But it's not the only reason she lifts her face to look at him, finally adjusted to the darkness, and arches up to kiss him.