Page 68 of The Highlander Is All That

“I have no clue. I like the way you smell better,” and she proceeded to sniff him here and there until he grabbed her and held her down and kissed her soundly.

Which, of course, followed course. And soon, they were in a tangle of limbs once again.

It was easily as glorious as the first time.

And the next was as well.

Though to be honest, each encounter had a different feeling. As they made love through the night, it became gentler, less frantic, a delirious exploration that went on for hours.

The sun was creeping over the sill when he shook her awake. “Elizabeth,” he hissed. “You need to get up, lass.”

“Mmm,” she groaned. She did not want to get up.

“Darling, the servants are starting to stir.”

In a heartbeat, she shot up. “Oh dear.”

Madly she searched for her clothes which were, oddly enough, on the floor across the room. He helped her dress and then he smoothed her hair and kissed her again. “Doona forget to tell me when it’s safe to emerge.”

She laughed. “I shall, my darling. No worries.”

And then she skulked back to her chambers with an enormous, and smug, smile on her face.

Chapter Fourteen

Elizabeth had completely forgotten about morning calls.

When she’d arrived in her room, she’d merely flopped onto her bed and relived each and every detail of the previous night before dozing off to sleep.

Elaine’s manic scratching woke her.

“What?” she called.

“I’m sorry, miss,” her maid said, pushing into the room with a tray of chocolate and croissants. It was Elizabeth’s favorite breakfast, but she didn’t want to stir. Even for that. “Visitors are arriving.”

“Oh, blast.”

“Blast?” A cheery voice rumbled off the walls. “And here I thought you adored being adored.”

Elizabeth pried open a lid and glared at Victoria. “How can you be so chipper in the morning?”

“It’s a gift.” She threw herself on Elizabeth’s bed with a bounce and Elizabeth groaned.

“I don’t want to get up.”

“Well, you have to. Someone sent you flowers and you have to come and see.”

“Do I?”

The thought that they might be from Hamish sent a thrill through her until she realized how unlikely and irrational that was. He’d been with her all night, after all. He hadn’t had a chance.

“I think they’re from Twiggenberry.”

“Do you?” She was a genius, Victoria was.

“Or they might be from Blackworth. He’s keen on you too.”

“I’m so lucky.”