Hero of a Highland Wolf

“I needed to stretch my legs,” she offered, thinking maybe that’s why she would do such a dumb thing, or maybe it sounded like a good explanation. She was highly thankful his people were wolves. What would have happened if they hadn’t been? They would have shot her, that’s what.

“Aye, well, in the future, I would ask that your wolf venturing be confined to this side of the seawall. The trails leading to the sea are too dangerous for anyone to navigate, especially if the person has imbibed too much.”

She wanted to ask whose fault that was, even though she knew very well her own stubbornness had made her careless.

“I will take your concern under advisement,” she said, finishing off her bread. “I hope I didn’t inconvenience anyone too much.” She truly hoped only Grant had known of her escapade.

“I howled to warn you not to get too close to the water’s edge until I reached you. But you ignored me.”

Vaguely, she remembered him nudging her. Like in a dream. An annoying wolf who wanted her to move when she’d been too tired to. “You howled.” Great.

She could guess what that meant. He was the pack leader, calling out to her in a distressed wolf’s way, warning her to return. His kin would have hurried out to see to the matter, just like any wolf pack would.

Even if they didn’t believe he needed help, they would have arrived to see what was going on—as was a wolf’s ever-curious nature.

She wanted to ask how many had seen her in her drunken state, risking her neck above the breakers. But she didn’t dare pose the question. She never got drunk. Ever. Which had been part of the problem with her inability to handle the liquor last night. She didn’t approve of such behavior. Her own father drank way too much and had behaved badly on many occasions, embarrassing her and her mother more than once. She didn’t want anyone to see her acting in such a manner.

“Thank you for seeing me back to my chamber.”

Grant said, “It was the least I could do for you.” He didn’t comment on her saying the chamber was hers.

“Why did you leave the bed this morning?” Or last night. She wasn’t certain when he’d run off. “I needed to be close to the bathroom. You could have slept in my room. I promise I wouldn’t have made any untoward advances,” she said. Not like she did on the hilltop. Then she frowned. Maybe she had made untoward advances to him in bed and that was why he had left. She felt her body warm.

His mouth kicked up at one corner as if he was trying hard not to show how funny that notion was to him. What? He’d think she would have ravished him? Unable to keep her composure when she was so close to the hot Highlander? But she really couldn’t remember what she’d done to make him leave.

She stiffened a little at his response. She wasn’t that needy. Just because she might have seemed like it when she kissed him.

She’d been mated twice. She often had wolves interested in her. Just because she wasn’t mated now and Grant and his people didn’t want her here didn’t mean other wolves wouldn’t find her appealing.

She’d also considered the possibility that he might attempt to pursue her, mate her, and gain control of her properties that way. Then he’d never have to submit to her wishes. And he and his clan would never have to worry about losing their ancestral home.

But he didn’t seem to be interested even in that. He just wanted her gone. Unless he’d kissed her as a way of changing the dynamics between them. Sure, kiss the she-wolf, make her melt under his touch, and she’d be as malleable as any beta wolf under his jurisdiction.

She didn’t know why she was thinking along those lines. Maybe the feeling of being in her ancestral home, where she felt she belonged in an odd sort of way. Maybe her dad didn’t, but being here felt right to her. Despite the way Grant didn’t care for her presence.

No matter what, she wasn’t giving in to the madness and showing him anything other than her professional side—this was business, after all. She didn’t want to think of herself as his superior, but she had to remember that’s just what she was. The boss did not kiss her employee, and she had to remember that.

And then her traitorous mind thought back to him vacating the bed in the middle of the night to leave her alone. How he’d grabbed his kilt from the bench and stalked out of the room. And that made her recall what she’d seen once again. He’d been naked. Only this time in bed with her. And she, likewise.

A recipe for disaster.

Her cell rang and she wasn’t sure who to expect. One of her cousins, maybe. But it was Archibald. This was not a good time to talk. “I’ll call you back as soon as I’m through with lunch.”

She smiled at Grant, who looked like he expected her to tell him who had called and then he’d tell her how much he disapproved.

***

After the meal, Colleen said she was taking a walk in the gardens, and Enrick and Lachlan wished a word with Grant about the tour. Both were concerned that it had not gone well—mainly because he didn’t wish to discuss it. He noted that as soon as she’d made it outside, she’d made a phone call, probably to the person who had called her during lunch. He suspected it was Archibald and that she wanted to speak with him in private. That didn’t bode well.

“Her father was Neda’s flesh-and-blood son, but we were the ones who took care of Neda and her properties,” Lachlan said, getting wound up about the situation all over again.

“Don’t you think she did it for the lass? Her only grandchild, to carry on the family line?” Enrick asked.

Grant ground his teeth. “Colleen has never lived here before. She’s not part of the heritage or the history.” Even though she seemed to enjoy the tour, he suspected it was a passing fancy. Living here day in, day out would be a whole other matter. “She doesn’t care anything about the place like we do. This is home for us. Always has been. She is just a visitor.”

He tried to convince himself of that. What if he was to fall for the lass—not that that was at all likely—but what if he did, and she wanted to leave after the weather got bad? Or she longed for her American home?

He’d be mated to a she-wolf who would be depressed and unhappy, and then what? Would she drink to drown her sorrows? He could envision the whole situation becoming a disaster. Mating was for a lifetime and… Hell, why was he even thinking of such a thing?