Page 61 of The Highlander Is All That

But he didn’t want to stop her.

Elizabeth, on his lap, kissing him.

It was sublime.

It was also torture, because Hamish knew they could not continue.

“Elizabeth, please. We must talk.”

She looped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest. “We can talk like this.”

“You may be able to, but I—”

“You, what?”

“My brain has descended.”

She tipped her head to the side. “What does that mean?”

“It means I canna think with you on my lap like this.”

“Like this?” She made some horrendous circular movement with her hips, one that made his eyes cross.

“Elizabeth. Do you have any idea what you are doing?”

Her grin was wicked. “I’m fairly certain.”

“You are driving me mad.”

“Excellent.”

“I thought you chose Twiggenberry. You were supposed to choose Twiggenberry.”

“Twiggenberry makes me ill. You, on the other hand, you smell like heaven.”

To his consternation, she nestled her nose in the crook of his neck and licked him.

Licked him.

“Darling, please. You have to stop.”

She chuckled. “It’s just a kiss.”

“It willna be,” he warned. “And then you’ll be ruined.”

She leaned back and smiled at him. “Ruined for Twiggy? How awful.”

Twiggy? “Twiggy?”

“It’s what he wants me to call him. I think I shall retch again.”

“You canna be serious.”

“I am. About both.”

He tried to hold back a laugh—this was no laughing matter—but couldn’t.

“Honestly, Hamish. I’ve thought about this a lot.” She stilled and all the amusement drained from her face. Her gaze was clear and solemn. “You are the man I want. You and no one else.” She raked her fingers through his hair and held him still while she kissed him again.