His brother stuck out a hand. “Ye need to tell her how ye feel.”
Dazed, Max reached up and clasped his brother’s forearm, and when Lyon pulled him to his feet, stood there for a long moment, staring into the other man’s guileless gaze.His brother. Lyon was his brother, sired by the same laird. He’d been raised to be a gentleman, the kind of man others calledmilord. But he’d offered Max friendship and understanding and support and advice. He’d come out of his wayhere, to lift Max’s spirits.
Max had had friends before, but until he’d arrived here in the Highlands, he’d never had a family.
He squeezed Lyon’s arm once then, with a nod, stepped back and cleared his throat. “Thank you. I—I will.”
His brother nodded once. “And take her something special. I’m no’ the expert on the fairer sex that Lysander is, but I ken that women like that sort of thing. No’ flowers.” He shook his head. “Nor something alive. I learned that the hard way—some lasses just dinnaelikepuppies.”
Max’s eyes had gone wide. “Something…special.”
“Aye, something that shows you really understand her—not as a lady or a serving lass—butEmber. And for the love of fook, brother, tell her you love her, just as she is.”
Max could feel his breaths slowing as he considered the idea. “Just Ember…” He thought of his office drawer and the shoe which rested there, lonely for its mate.
And his smile slowly bloomed. “I think I have an idea.”
