He took her upper arms, holding her gently. “Did ye mean it, lass? Ye wouldnae mind me staying here?" With ye.
Her eyes were wide, but she shook her head, as if understanding the seriousness of the question. “I ken now ye’re no’ my competition, Brodie. We work better together than apart.”
“And if…” God’s teeth, why was this so hard to say? He cleared his throat and tried again. “And if I stayed, could it be as yer husband?”
She sucked in a breath. “Are ye asking me…?”
“Marry me, Fenella. Marry me, and let me be a part of yer life here in the Oliphant kitchens. We are a team, and I love that we each have our strengths.”
Her lips had formed a little oh which made him want to kiss her. But she blinked and repeated, “Strengths?”
“Ye’re brilliant at baking, and I understand the proper amount of salt to use on rabbit.” He nodded. “Strengths.”
Just like that, her shoulders relaxed as she exhaled, and her lips softened. “I doubt I’ll ever get used to ye insulting my cooking.”
“I’m no’ insulting it, lass. Just saying it could be better.” By all the saints, but she was fun to tease!
One of her fingers poked him in the belly. “I see many more cooking contests in our future, Brodie.”
“So ye’ll marry me? Let me stay here with ye and help in yer kitchens?”
Her eyes were studying his face. “Aye, except…”
Except? Except what?
Mayhap his expression finally showed what he was wondering, because she sighed. “Is this what ye want, Brodie? Really?”
How could she doubt it?
“I love ye, Fenella,” he said simply. “I want a future with ye, and since ye belong here, I want to be at yer side.”
Her breath caught.
“Ye…love me,” she repeated.
It wasn’t a question, but he nodded as he drew her closer, tucking her against him as he wrapped his arms around her. He wanted to crush her to him, to claim her mouth, to let his beast break free once more, but she was injured.
And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
“I love ye,” he whispered. “And I want to spend the rest of my life seeing yer smiles and teasing ye about sausages and eggplant.”
“And cucumbers.” Her voice was muffled against him.
“Marry me, Fenella?”
Before she could answer, a sound at the back door indicated Kenneth’s return. “He’s dead,” the laird announced as he stepped into the kitchen. “How badly is Fenella hurt?”
She pulled away to glare at Kenneth. “I’m aright. Why do ye assume ‘twas me who was hurt?”
The other man looked amused as he jammed the torch into the holder and stepped up to pour some water from the ewer into a bowl. “Because if that little weasel had wounded Brodie, I would be disappointed. I trained him, ye ken.”
Scowling, Brodie snatched the bowl from his friend. “Gordon hit her.”
Kenneth studied Fenella. “Is that all?” he murmured, his tone as deadly as Brodie felt.
She shuddered, her arms going around her middle once more. “Nay, but…I am aright now. Brodie saved me.”
Suddenly, her face lit in a smile. Not the most brilliant smile, and ‘twas higher on one side, since her cheek was beginning to swell from Gordon’s blow. But ‘twas a smile nevertheless.