Page 33 of The Highlander Is All That

“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.”