Page 139 of Moon Craving

"She kept a diary of her recipes. Perhaps you would like it?" he asked.

Warmth suffused Abigail. "I cannot think of anything I should like better."

"Nothing, my angel?" he asked with a wicked glint in his blue eyes.

She felt a blush crawl up her neck and could not speak in reply to save her life. She

loved this playful side to her husband and saw it all too rarely.

"Thank you," she said, meaning both his generosity and for sharing this side of

himself with her.

"You need not thank me, but if you insist, you can do so by waiting for your escort

before coming down the stairs of a morning." His frown was marred by the twinkle in his

gaze.

She grinned. "I'll consider it." But they both knew she wouldn't.

It was shaping up to be one of those arguments like the one between the

blacksmith and his wife regarding the disparity between the Sinclair and Balmoral clans.

Neither held any true rancor over the subject, but neither would they change their view in

regard to it. It felt good to have something like that between her and Talorc, something so

normal and domestic.

"I now understand why you argued so fiercely for me to give my clan a month to get

used to you. You were hoping that by showing leniency, I would learn to tolerate your

flaunting of my authority."

She widened her eyes in mock innocence, though she would be devastated if she

truly believed he thought her guilty of such. "I do no such thing."

"You think not?"

"It's a ridiculous instruction."

"You are a stubborn woman."

"I thought I was your angel."

"A willful one."

"It runs in the family."

"It is a more charming trait in you than your sister."

"How can you say so?" she asked even as her heart swelled with the implied

compliment. "Emily is everything that is wonderful in a sister."