Page 64 of The Highlander Who Protected Me

“If you don’t stop this instant, I will brain you with that fire iron,” she threatened, pointing to the hearth tools.

He wiped his eyes. “We wouldn’t have much of a discussion after that, I imagine. And I’d have another disability to contend with.”

Ainsley drew herself up straight, looking immensely offended. God, he’d missed her imperious snits. Even if she boxed his ears, it would be worth it.

Aye, he was still in a bad way when it came to Lady Ainsley Matthews.

But as much as he loved the mother, there was now the daughter to consider. Whatever crack-brained idea Ainsley had come up with, it would be his responsibility to make sure it didn’t harm Tira or her in any way.

“If you’re going to be ridiculous,” she said in frosty tones, “I’ll leave and come back when you’re capable of sensible conversation.”

Ah.Royal heard a hint of vulnerability and even a wee bit of shame behind that infamous dignity of hers.

He never wanted her to feel ashamed. Not with him.

When she made to stand, he wrapped a hand around her wrist. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to offend you. You simply surprised me.”

She huffed a bit. “You were very rude. It’s not easy for a woman to make an offer of marriage, you know. It’s not the done thing.”

He smiled at her. “And when have we ever done the done thing?”

She twisted her mouth sideways for a moment before letting go of her outrage. “Never, I suppose. We always seem to do everything backward.”

“It makes life more interesting, doesn’t it?”

She eyed him, as if uncertain of his mood. “I meant it, though.”

“Meant that you need my help, or meant your rather exciting marriage proposal?”

“Both.”

“Then we need something stronger than tea for this discussion,” he said, standing up. “A sherry, perhaps?”

She wrinkled her pretty nose. “I don’t think sherry will quite do it. Do you have brandy?”

“Of course.”

The angry flush in her cheeks had faded, leaving her pale and weary looking. And although she tried to hide it, she was shivering. Ainsley had always been a robust girl, not one of your Dresden misses. But now that he’d gotten over the shock of seeing her, Royal noted that she’d lost a great deal of weight—more than the baby weight. Though her figure still possessed exceedingly delightful curves, she seemed almost fragile.

He stirred the fire and added some coal, which earned him a grateful smile. Then he crossed to the drinks trolley to pour a whisky for him and a brandy for her. Clearly, they both needed a bit of liquid courage to smooth the tricky conversation ahead.

After handing Ainsley her glass, he pulled his chair around so they could face each other. He needed to look into her amazing violet eyes while they thrashed this out. Needed to sense her emotion. And he wanted to be close to her. To breathe in her enticing, jasmine-scented perfume, to see the faint blush that colored her pale skin when her emotions ran high.

Whatever else would come of this day, she was with him now. He would cherish the moment he thought he’d never have again.

They sat knee to knee while she sipped her brandy. He was pleased to see some color returning to her cheeks.

“I’m sorry I was mean to you,” she said. “But you rather deserved it.”

“I did. But there’s very little you can say to me that would truly insult me, Ainsley.”

“It’s one of the things I most like about you,” she confessed. “It’s quite nice not to have to worry about someone taking offense at everything I say.”

“Certainly not offended, but curious. Sweetheart, why the change of heart? I’ve asked you to marry me more times than I can count, and you always refused me.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “I must seem ridiculous.”

“Charmingly so, naturally. But I take it your proposal has more to do with the trouble you mentioned than a sudden discovery of an undying passion for me.”

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