“Wait up, lass. The least I can do is wrestle the shark off you if one decides to grab some delectable part of you.”

He hadn’t really said that, had he?

Shelley stared at Duncan, who was now wearing a pair of black Bermuda shorts, the rest of him bare. His toned biceps made her envision him wearing a kilt and swinging a sword, fighting the bad guys in the movie, sweeping up the fair maiden in his arms, and carrying her off to his castle. If women saw him like that in the movie, they’d be all over him when they caught sight of him outside his castle walls.

He didn’t say anything more, and Shelley was too stunned to speak. Wendy broke in, dying to know all about him. “That’s him? A Scottish hunk? Who sounds like he’s already way too intrigued with you? Don’t tell me you’re wearing that string bikini of yours,” she said. Knowing Wendy, she’d want to forget her manufacturing crisis and fly to the island to check him out. She’d let him stay at the villa for free, too. Probably pay for all his meals, excursions, everything. She could certainly afford it.

Forget Shelley taking in needy strays. She figured Wendy would be the one offering a free room stateside for him. Until she learned he was a wolf. Wolves lived by different rules, and they had to be cautious about stepping over the lines.

“Yeah, he’s my new roommate.” Shelley didn’t want to tell Wendy she was wearing the bikini, and the Highlander’s tongue was practically hanging out of his mouth. He acted like he’d just shifted into the wolf and come back from a fast-paced run, heartbeat accelerated, adrenaline whipped up, and ready for a lot more exercise—this time one-on-one with a she-wolf. “Got to go, Wendy, and again, thanks for the generous offer. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Shelley knew she’d get the third degree from her friend, especially when Wendy learned he was a Highland wolf, not just human.

Shelley had never dated a wolf, and for the first time, she wondered why the hell not. Because they could be serious trouble, like a commitment forever? And what if she made a wrong choice? Their forever could last centuries.

She clicked off the phone and waved her towel at Duncan. “Didn’t bring a towel?”

His sexy mouth lifted slightly, his dark eyes nearly black and the skin beneath them crinkling with good humor. “Do you mind if I share yours?”

Feeling much better about her finances, she cast him a smug smile. “It’ll cost you.”

Duncan had been looking out the guest bedroom window, watching the waves roll in and the breeze toss the palm fronds like fluttering, dark green fans while he’d been telling his oldest brother, Ian, what he’d learned so far—about the woman he’d met in the bar and her ties to a man who worked for Silverman, the trouble he’d had with his hotel reservation, and his having to pay so much to share a villa with a wolf—when he saw Shelley wearing a shimmering, blue string bikini as she crossed the patio.

Ian asked him more about the she-wolf than about how far he was getting with the investigation. Ian’s focus on the female wolf rankled Duncan. Ian had to know a wolf wouldn’t sidetrack him. He didn’t think that staying with a female wolf should be of any consequence. Until he saw her leave the house wearing barely anything—an iridescent royal blue thong and a barely there halter top that together highlighted the swell of her breasts and her firm ass. He swore when she turned and leaned over to pick up a shell on the beach, and as she spoke to someone on the phone, she nearly fell out of the top.

“Duncan?” Ian said, breaking into Duncan’s spell-binding vision of the mermaid headed for the water.

“Uh, I’ve got to go. My roommate insists on being shark bait, and I need to make sure she isn’t food for the fish. We’d never be able to afford the whole cost of this villa if she didn’t survive her swim. Talk to you when I have more news.”

“Duncan—”

Recognizing the laird’s warning tone of voice that would be followed by a stern reminder of duty, Duncan ended the call, unzipped his bag, and dug around in it until he could find the only pair of Bermuda shorts he’d brought on the trip. Now he wished he’d brought both pairs. He didn’t own a swimsuit, but he was rethinking that also.

He stripped down in record time, and after yanking on the shorts, he raced down the stairs to reach Shelley before she got into the water. He could imagine one little wave removing the tiny bit of cloth between her legs and the one barely covering her breasts. He smiled at the thought. He’d be there to rescue her. To hell with the bikini.

He tried not to look as anxious as he was to catch up to her, but when she waved her towel at him, he realized he should have thought to grab one from the upstairs bathroom.

When she told him it would cost him to share her towel, he asked, “How much?”

He wasn’t sure if she was teasing, but he was willing to pay anything to stay with her while she swam, whether his clan could afford it or not.

Smiling, she shook her head, the breeze seductively sweeping her auburn hair across her face. “You won’t even need it. Too many sharks out there. You won’t get wet.” She grabbed her hair and held it in abeyance, winked, turned, and continued to make her way through the sand to the water.

He smiled at her sassiness. She paused briefly to lay out her towel, bending over and making him growl low with desire. She didn’t look back at him—although she had to have figured out what her body was doing to his—and continued to the water.

When she was only a few feet from the surf, she suddenly dashed into it until she was wading waist deep in the water, her back to him.

He jogged to the water’s edge, felt how warm the waves were that caressed his bare toes, not anything like the Irish or North Seas, and ran in after her. Maybe if he got close to her and a wave snatched her bikini away, he’d be able to capture it. Nah, he really wouldn’t want to return it to her. Instead, he’d protectively cover her body from prying eyes—not that anyone could see them in the dark like this, except another wolf.

He was within arm’s length of her when she was up to her shoulders in water, and she squealed.

“Shelley,” he shouted, his heart thudding and adrenaline shooting through his veins at hyperspeed. He grabbed her arm, pulling her toward him, ready to punch the shark in the nose. He’d heard that was a way to keep the sharks from coming back for more.

She laughed but didn’t squirm to get loose from him. “Just a school of colorful fish. They nibbled on my legs and startled me.”

He relaxed and meant to let her go, but the waves were pushing her soft body against his, and he liked the feel of her curves, the way her breeze-tossed hair caressed his shoulder, the way she smelled so sweet and feminine and wolflike.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her close, hug all that sweet tanned flesh against him, rub his face in her hair, cup her glorious breasts, and…

He gritted his teeth. He couldn’t do any of that and had to satisfy himself with just holding her arm as the waves slowly lifted her off her feet and threatened to pull her away with the current. He remained her steadfast pillar, immovable in the sand beneath the waves.

“You make a great anchor,” she said, rising on tiptoes with each swell of a wave.

“If I don’t keep you close, how will I get to you fast enough if another colorful school of fish attacks you?”

She chuckled. “If it had been a shark, what would you have done?”

“Socked him in the nose. I’d heard they have sensitive noses.”

She laughed and he loved the sound, so airy and light. But he could tell she was very impressed with his plan of attack and rescue.

“So, were you telling your brother about staying with me?”

“Aye. Ian. He wanted to know all about you.” Duncan looked down at her. “I think he believed I might be sidetracked, which I never am.”

“Not by a woman, I take it,” she said, very seriously.

He responded just as seriously. “Never.”

“Yet he thought you might be.”

Duncan didn’t say anything. His brother truly couldn’t believe that. Duncan had every intention of checking out Silverman’s house, which he would do after Shelley went to bed tonight. Getting their money back was just too important a mission. “And you? Was it your girlfriend who called?”

“Oh, yes. She gave me some… news about the problem with the grant.”

She seemed reluctant to tell him what was going on with the missing funds.

“Aye?”

“Someone stole them.”

He snorted. “Seems to be a widespread rash of thievery going on.”

“Salisbury Silverman.”

Duncan frowned at her.

“That’s what my girlfriend told me the paper said.”

“Bastard.”

“Yeah. So I’m willing to help you get your money back—and mine, too.”

Duncan shook his head. “No deal. I’ll get your money back. But I don’t want you getting involved in this.”

She looked out to sea.

“Shelley?”

“All right. Just remember I offered if you need any help.”

He wouldn’t need help. Not from a lovely she-wolf who could get hurt in the process.

Shelley switched topics. “I told Wendy I already had a roommate.”

Either her friend would think the situation would work out well, or she’d warn Shelley away from him. “Ah. What advice did she give you?”

A bigger wave nearly toppled Shelley, and Duncan pulled her into his arms, anchoring her silky body against his. God, he was already fully aroused, and having the nearly naked woman in his arms made it worse. On the other hand, he was grateful for the wave that had brought the mermaid to him so fortuitously.

Shelley cleared her throat. “I didn’t give her a whole lot of time to offer advice. But she heard your Scottish accent and deep, sexy voice so I’m sure she’ll be all questions tomorrow.”

“Sexy, eh?”




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