The Highlander Is All That (Untamed Highlanders #4)(7)

“But you kept holding me. And staring at me. And breathing on me. And, in fact, you are the one who kissed me.” Again, untrue. It had been a mutual thing.

“This conversation is beside the point.”

She gaped at him. Was it? Was it really? “What is the point, exactly?”

“I shouldna ha’ kissed you.” She loved that as his dander rose, his accent became more pronounced.

“It was a nice kiss.”

“I am here to protect you from blackhearts who would kiss you like that.”

“But I enjoyed it.”

“Stop saying that!” He raked his hair again until it stood on end.

“But it’s true.”

“Elizabeth. Please. This canna happen again.”

“All right.” She had every intention that it would, but for some reason, her quick capitulation seemed to annoy him even more.

“We should go back to the house,” he said.

“Of course.” He flinched when she took his arm as they started on the path, but then he settled into the expected role.

They walked in silence for a bit, but mostly because Hamish was brooding. When he spoke, it was in something of a grumble. “So, do you?”

She glanced at him. His expression was tight. A muscle bunched in his cheek. She noticed that the speckles of his beard caught the sun in glints of gold and red. “Do I what?”

“Kiss strange men?”

Ah. He was jealous. She hid her smile. “I do try to avoid the strange ones.”

Oh! He did not like that. He bristled like a hedgehog.

Her smile deepened.

“How many men have you kissed?”

She couldn’t tell him the truth, so she merely shrugged.

“Can you even remember?”

She could. The answer was one. “It does not signify,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.

“It most certainly does.”

“You are here to help find us husbands, not catalog my kisses.”

He seemed vexed by the reminder, but said, “Just so. I was sent here by the duke to do a job, and I assure you, kissing his cousin was no’ what he had in mind.”

“I disagree. I think he should be pleased.”

Hamish stopped short and stared at her. “What?”

“How can I know what kind of husband I want if I don’t, ahem, test the waters?”

His nostrils flared. “Egads, woman. Tell me you doona mean what I think you mean?”

“I think I should kiss several men. You know. To get a feel for it.”

His brow darkened. “You shouldna do this.”

“Why ever not?”

“When you allow a man such a liberty, he feels welcome to take more.”

Was he really lecturing her? She felt the irresistible urge to goad him, to rile him as much as he was riling her. “So . . . do you?”

“Do I what?” he snarled.

“Do you feel welcome to take more?” She batted her lashes at him, but only because it made him uncomfortable.

He paled and stared at her for a moment while that muscle in his cheek worked. “This conversation is highly improper.”

“Is it? I feel it’s rather apropos. Did you enjoy that kiss, by the way?”

His ears went red. “That is none of your business.”

“I disagree.” She pulled away and propped her hands on her hips. “I think it is very much my business. I mean, how should I know if I even did it right?”

“Did it—?”

“Perhaps I should try again.”

His eyes narrowed. He licked his lips, though she was certain he was unaware of the slip.

She shot him a sweet smile. “Ah, well. No doubt Bower would be willing.”

“He bluidy hell would not!”

“Honestly, Hamish. There is no cause to yell.”

“I’m no’ yelling,” he yelled. Three birds in the apple tree took wing. He sucked in a great breath, fighting for composure, scoured his hair again, and then muttered, “You will drive me to drink, lass.”

Elizabeth’s smile widened. She batted her lashes. “Is that a good thing?”

“It most definitely is no’.”

“I shall have Henley supply you with some brandy.”

“I prefer Scots whisky.”

“I’m certain he can find some of that.” She winked. He did not seem amused, but that hardly bothered her. She was having far too much fun tormenting him.

Because she knew something he refused to tell her. He had liked that kiss. He’d liked it a lot. She’d felt the undeniable length of his arousal pressing against her belly, and it had thrilled her to death.

Oh, she would kiss him again.

Whether he wanted her to or not.

And he would like it then too!

On that thought, she whirled away and headed back to the house on her own. She only looked back once and it was to see Hamish staring after her with a glower on his handsome face.

*

Scotsmen.

Anne St. Claire stormed into the library and slammed the door. A duke was one thing, but these men? Dusty and scruffy? It was intolerable. Utterly intolerable.

That the fair one, the baron, was far too much like Kirk for comfort didn’t help.