“I’d take advice from the pope, sweetheart, if he could tell me how to change your mind,” St. “You’d take advice from your little brother?” Emmie nudged a strand of hair away from her face with her wrist. “Val tells me that method found favor with many sophisticated cultures of old.” I want to toss you over my shoulder and chain you to my bed until you agree to marry me.” He turned and set about fixing himself a cup of tea. “We’ve been good lately and I would like to build on that trend.” “Well, don’t,” Emmie replied, turning her attention back to her task. “I want to kiss you, you know.” He seemed mesmerized by the repetitive movements of her hands on the dough. “Good morning.” His tone was grave, the light in his eyes unreadable. The ladies in York would probably pay him… Just.” She smiled, loving the sight of him, carelessly handsome, domestic, and yet so overwhelmingly male.
The earl came upon her in the kitchen, and watched in silence as she kneaded and turned, kneaded and turned. Just’s household than because it was needed.
Emmie was up early the next morning, making bread dough more out of habit and for St.
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