“He certainly had no issue with yelling his opinions at me no matter who was in the vicinity.” Drawing in a breath, she started in, mimicking her father’s tone with great skill. “You’ll never be the mate he needs if you can’t cook a decent meal. he needs a woman graced with all of the feminine arts!”
“So,” he watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction, “that’s what I’ve been missing all of this time? A good meal?” He shook his head with a sigh. “Well, maybe there’s more?”
“More?” She narrowed her gaze at him. “What more?”
“Feminine arts? What exactly fits under that category? Needlepoint? Hand sewing? I’ve always wanted hand-knitted socks!”
“I’ll gut you with my claws and then you won’t need socks.”
He heard the grumbling under her breath, but at least she didn’t try to maim him.