Page 8 of The Highlander Is All That

He shouldn’t be disappointed. He’d already acknowledged that his friend was a far better catch for her. “He is a widower.” A disgruntled offering.

“Oh, how sad.”

“He has a daughter.”

“Oh, that is even sadder. A helpless little mite without a mother?”

“Aye.” Though Catriona was hardly a helpless mite. She was more of a hellion.

“Does the baron plan to marry again?”

This was going from bad to worse. “He hasna spoken of it.”

“I was just wondering, you know, because he is very handsome.”

“Aye.”

“And he seems very nice.”

“Aye.” There was no call for such misery, but it swamped him nonetheless.

“What a pity that Anne dislikes Scotsmen.”

Anne?

Hamish blinked. “Anne?”

“They are of an age.”

Indeed, they were. He cleared his throat. “Anne . . . dislikes Scotsmen?”

“Oh yes. On account of the fact that she fell in love with one, and he broke her heart.”

He barked a laugh. “She canna blame all Scotsmen for that.”

“She can,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “And she does. Faithless philanderers, all of them,” she warbled.

“That is no’ true. Scotsmen are the most devoted lovers!”

“Really?” She fluttered her lashes at him, which sent rivulets of delight and alarm through him. Her expression was far too intent. And again, not intent enough.

“I . . . ah. Aye. You’ll never find a more loyal man than a Scotsman.”

Her smile was stunning. “Well, I believe you,” she said, coming to her feet. He followed suit. “But you will need to convince Anne of that.”

He had no intention of doing any such thing.

She held out her arm and he took it as a matter of habit, and then they headed down the stairs.

He had no idea what happened next, other than the vague recollection of Elizabeth tripping on a stair, and his arms coming out to catch her.

But then, there she was. In his embrace. Staring up at him with wide doe-like eyes. Lips parted. Breath soft and sweet on his cheek.

She slipped a bit and gripped him closer, pressing her delicious body against his. His head spun. His cock rose.

She’s too young, some small voice cried from the back of his mind. She is unequal to your experience. This is wrong!

Ah, such a chorus of dissent.