“You know what they say about assumptions?” She cocked her head to one side. “They make asses out of umptions.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Ember.” A grin tickled his lips.
She shrugged. “We Highlanders are a mysterious breed.”
Chuckling, he snuggled her closer. “Can you forgive me for not telling you who I was?”
“Can you forgive me for being so angry, when it was not your fault at all?”
Pursing his lips, he pretended to think about it. “I suppose so. But will youpleasestop telling me you’rejusta serving lass? After all, you’re soon to be a patent holder, and assuming—although that would make an ass out ofuming,by your logic—you’re still willing to work with Oliphant Engraving, you’ll soon be part of a very lucrative new line of products.”
Her smile grew in excitement, a future of possibilities stretching out in front of her. “Only ifyoustop telling me you arejust a cowboy. You ran a successful horse ranch, and now you run a very successful engraving industry.”
“I love you, Ember.”
It was the sincerity in his tone which caused her to sigh in pleasure, but when his lips claimed hers, she sighed again. This kiss was softer, sweeter, and full of promise.
“Ember,” he began, after he’d tucked her head under his chin and wrapped her in his arms, “you’ve worked so hard for other people: your stepmother, who doesn’t appreciate it, and your stepsisters.”
“My sisters at least appreciate me.” When he hummed diplomatically, she knew he was thinking of Tiffany. “The Oliphant Inn would likely collapse without me.”
“But that’s not your problem, love. That’s your stepmother’s problem. She can hire more servants to do what you were doing for free. You deserve the chance to chase your own dreams, to work hard for somethingyoudesire. Like making sure all the finest ladies in Scotland are wearing Oliphant engraved shoes next season.”
She smiled against his shoulder, her arms tightening around him. “That is not myonlydream.”
“Dare I hope it has something to do with me?”
Feeling powerful, she hummed and wriggled against him. “Perhaps.”
When he took a deep breath, she felt his chest expand against her. “Ember, I want to make your dreams come true. I want to give you the freedom to work toward your own goals, for your own happiness.”
“Why, Mr. DeVille-turned-Oliphant”—she pulled back so she could look into his eyes and pretended surprise—“are you offering meanotherjob?”
“Yes. But I’ve already hired a housekeeper. Mrs. Oliphant.”
“Of course.” She nodded, as if they shared a secret. “Which one?”
“Honestly? I have no idea. I plan on paying her handsomely, so you don’t have to do anything around our home you don’t want to do.”
Our home. She liked the sound of that. “So what jobareyou offering?”
His lips slowly tugged upward. “Well, it’s less of ajoband more of aposition.”
Her heart began to speed up again. “What—what kind of position?” she asked, imagining allsortsof naughty positions the two of them could get into.
“Marry me, Ember,” he whispered. “Please?”
“Can I wear my fancy dress again?”
His eyes searched hers. “I’ll even return your beautiful bronze shoe to wear down the aisle. But then I’m taking it back.”
“What for?”
“To remind me appearances don’t mean everything. I danced with a beautiful, intriguing lady who wore that shoe, but it was the shoe’s creator I fell in love with.”
Ember melted against him with a sigh. “I suppose I ought to tell you that I love you.”
His expression lit. “That would be nice, yes.”
