The Highlander Is All That (Untamed Highlanders #4)(34)

Ah, God. Even though they didn’t touch, his heat enfolded her. His scent, some glorious and manly fragrance that was purely Hamish, surrounded her in a cloud. She longed to fill her lungs with it.

“I want to hear everything,” Esmeralda said. “Every. Thing.”

Hamish shrugged. “Not much to tell,” he said, picking up a cake and wolfing it down.

This, Elizabeth did not mind in the least. In fact, it was fascinating to watch. Those lips. That throat working. The stubble on his chin. All fascinating.

She caught Mary’s too-intent attention on her, and she sniffed and looked away.

“I want to hear nonetheless,” her aunt insisted.

“Is Bower with you?” Anne asked in a too-desultory manner.

“He’s coming. He had some business to take care of on the way. But Duncan and Catherine are staying in Scotland for a bit.”

“So they did elope?” Victoria’s eyes shone.

“They did indeed.”

“And Tiverton?” Esmeralda asked.

Hamish lifted a shoulder. “No idea. Apparently they stranded him somewhere in Cumbria.”

“No, they didn’t!” Esmeralda cackled at that.

“Indeed they did.”

“No less than he deserved. Imagine, kidnapping Catherine.” Elizabeth was still overset about that. She had been so worried and outraged and annoyed.

“It all worked out for them. Catherine is quite happy,” he assured her.

“I should think so. She’s loved Duncan for years.”

“And hated him,” Victoria added, picking up another cake.

“It is a thin line, my gels,” their aunt warbled.

“How comforting,” Anne muttered.

“Well, it’s true. I am glad you are back.” Esmeralda patted Hamish on his knee. Fortunately, he was wearing breeches, or Elizabeth might have smacked her hand away.

“I am too, truth be told. Hieing about the countryside is tiring.” He shot them all a smile. “If you don’t mind, I shall turn in.”

“Of course. Of course. We were just heading up as well.” Their aunt leaped to her feet and clapped. “Come, gels. It’s been a long night and we have calls in the morning.”

They all groaned as they came to their feet, but it was a genial groan. They had their Scottish guard dog back and the season was back on.

Elizabeth, for one, was delighted.

*

As tired as Hamish was, he couldn’t sleep.

Seeing Elizabeth had awoken something in him. Something that felt like hunger.

He’d done his share of soul searching while he’d been away. The dull ride had allowed for little but that.

Ranald had cornered him one night at an inn after Duncan had gone to bed and read him the riot act about kissing Elizabeth. But Hamish hadn’t needed his friend to lecture. He’d gone through all that over and over again in his head.

He knew he was not right for a woman of her breeding and background. He knew she was much younger than he was. He knew she was better off with a wealthy lord who could keep her in silks and diamonds.

But still, he wanted her.

He’d ridden straight back, only stopping to change horses.

And it had been worth it, seeing her again.

But her small nod had confirmed his assertions and pierced his heart.

It had let him know she’d made her decision.

The decision he both hoped for and dreaded.

She’d chosen Twiggenberry.

He hadn’t expected it to devastate him as it had.

With a sigh, he kicked off his covers and plodded to the decanter by the window. He knew better than to use whisky as a buttress, but he deserved a drink after the fortnight he’d had.

He’d just taken a sip when a scratch came at the door. With a frown, he set down his glass, wrapped a blanket around his hips and crossed the room to answer.

To his horror, and delight, Elizabeth stood there in the hall.

The sight poleaxed him. She looked so beautiful and sweet. He could barely move.

Something moved though. His cock rose.

A totally inappropriate response.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Yes. Let me in.”

He did, knowing he shouldn’t. “What is it?” he asked. Had someone else been kidnapped? Did he need to ride off again in pursuit?

Her answer befuddled him. Probably because it came along with a bundle of fragrant, luscious woman launching herself into his arms. “Everything.”

She peppered his chin with wet kisses and then she found his mouth.

God. What glory.

He couldn’t help himself. He kissed her back, savagely, hungrily.

By the time he found it in him to lift his head, he was breathless. “Elizabeth. We shouldna do this.”

She held him tighter. “I missed you.”

“Ach, I missed you too.” She pushed him back until his legs hit the bed, and then she pushed him again and he sat with a plop.

“Elizabeth—”

“If you say we shouldn’t again, I may hit you.”

That made him laugh, but it was a pained laugh, because she’d gone onto the bed beside him and then—God help him—she straddled him. It took a minute because she had to wrangle her skirts. Certainly enough time for him to return to sanity and stop her.