The Highlander Is All That (Untamed Highlanders #4)(20)

Elizabeth, in a lawn nightdress, was curled up in a chair with her eyes closed. The fire danced over her face, highlighting her alabaster cheeks.

Good lord in heaven above, she was beautiful.

It was wrong to tiptoe into the room and watch her sleep.

It was wrong to smile when she issued forth a delicate little snore.

It was wrong to kiss her.

But of course, he couldn’t help himself. He went down on his knees before her and set his lips to hers.

It was a soft, tender kiss, one intended to not wake her up.

But it did.

Not at first, though. At first she gave a little moan, and then a sigh into his mouth, and then—heaven help him—her arms wound around his neck.

“Hamish,” she murmured against his lips.

His body hardened. He loved her voice, and that voice whispering his name was even more divine.

He threaded his fingers through her silky hair, which was deliciously wild and free, and he held her closer.

And then he deepened the kiss.

He knew the moment she came fully awake. It was a slight stirring of her body, an ethereal sense of presence. Oh, and her fingernails on his scalp.

He pulled back and smiled at her. “I’m sorry.”

She frowned and then she smacked him softly. “Are you?”

“I shouldna ha’ kissed you.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Oh, don’t.” She pushed away, leaped to her feet, and stormed to the fireplace to savage the logs with a poker. Dare he tell her the flames backlit her body? That he saw every curve through the lawn?

“Um . . . Doona what?”

She whirled around and glared at him, but he hardly noticed. Because yes. He could see. Every. Curve. He shut his mouth and swallowed the drool. His wayward cock was more difficult to manage. “Don’t ruin a perfectly wonderful kiss.”

“I’m no’ ruining it.”

She set her hands on her hips. “Saying you shouldna ha’ done it right after you’ve done it is not promising.”

“You know what I mean. It was a lovely kiss. But I shouldna ha’ kissed you while you were sleeping.”

“I agree with that.” His heart plummeted at that, but then she took a step toward him. “I missed half of it, after all.”

“You—”

“Totally unfair.”

He could not move. Was locked in place as she came closer and closer and then pressed herself up against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck again and nudged his groin. His eyes crossed and he groaned. “Wee lass. What are you doing?”

“I’m kissing you.” She pulled his head down then—by the hair, in fact—and pressed her mouth to his.

It was a sweet, untutored, awkward kiss. There was no reason for his pulse to pound the way it was. No reason for his cock to surge. But it did.

She felt it.

And she laughed.

“I told you you would like it,” she whispered.

“Lass, I never disagreed. But we’re in dangerous waters. Surely you see that.”

“I like kissing you.”

“And I like kissing you.” He gently detangled and set her away. “But you’ve got to know, I’m not the groom the duke would want for you.”

“You’re not married.”

“Nae. But he wouldna approve.”

“Why not?”

“You’re his cousin. You deserve better.”

“Better?” She sniffed. “You’re handsome.”

“Well—”

“Tall.”

“Aye, but—”

She squeezed his bicep. “Strong. You can protect me.”

“Aye.” Oh God. His head spun.

“Am I correct in the assumption that you could feed a wife?”

“Of course.” He could feed one very well.

“So what’s the problem?”

“Elizabeth.” He held her off as she moved in again. “You are a lady.”

“So?”

“I doona have a title. You should be married to an earl . . . or a duke.”

“Earls and dukes are fusty.”

“They are wealthy. They could feed you much better than I can.”

“Aunt Esmeralda says I shouldn’t plump up.”

“You would be lovely regardless.”

Her smile was blinding. “Thank you, Hamish.”

“Please. Don’t say my name that way.”

“What way?”

“As though you . . . love me.”

She stilled. Stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. “And what if I do?” she asked in a whisper.

The words were like a punch to the gut. “You canna.” Oh please God. No.

“How do you know how I feel?”

Oh lord. Were those tears in her eyes? “Elizabeth. We’ve only just met. You’re young. This is, no doubt, just some childish fancy.” It hurt him to say it, but it was true.

What was truly horrible, though, was her reaction. Her features tightened. Her lips wobbled, and her nose went a little red. Then she sucked in a breath and tipped her chin high. “Childish fancy?”

“Aye. Aye.” Thank God. She understo—