Page 66 of The Highlander Is All That

“Aye. But no’ a Titan.”

“You seem godlike to me.”

“I appreciate that blasphemy, but I assure you, wee lass, I am only a man.”

She set her palm against the scruff on his chin. “I love when you call me wee.”

“Well, you are, my lass.”

“I’m plump.”

“No’ hardly. You’re perfect.”

She sighed and stroked him with her thumb. “I love it when you call me perfect.”

“You are.”

“Not hardly. But I do try.”

He kissed her again for a long moment, but when he lifted his head it was with a sigh. “We need to talk, you know.”

“I know.”

“For one thing, I live in Scotland.”

“I’m aware,” she said in a horrible attempt at a brogue.

“You’ll have to work on that,” he said with a snicker.

“Aye, me braw mon.”

He rolled his eyes. “We’re no’ pirates.”

“Was that a pirate accent?”

“It was.”

“My apologies. I’ve never met a pirate, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Seriously, Elizabeth. Could you live in Scotland? Would you like to live there?” he asked with a hint of trepidation.

“I would.”

His head dropped on her shoulder and he sighed. “Thank God.”

“Perhaps we should head there now.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Elope. To Gretna Green.”

He jerked up and stared down at her. “I canna leave until my mission is done, lass. I have to see your sisters wed.”

She made a face. “I don’t want to stay here. I hate the season. I hate London.” And she didn’t want to have to face Twiggenberry and tell him her answer was no.

But of course she must.

“I made an oath to the duke, lass. I owe it to him to see this done . . . especially if I break his faith and marry you.”