Hero of a Highland Wolf

“Are you sure? You could save your money. You know your dad and I were good friends.”

And that’s what made her more than suspicious. That it wasn’t just a chance meeting between her and him, but that he’d also befriended her father. Here she came along, and he was trying to charm her next.

“So you and my father were good friends?” she asked.

Archibald must not have known how much that would put her off. Because of her dad’s drinking, she and he had never gotten along well. And now that she knew about his lying to her about her grandmother—not to mention that he’d said Grant and his kin were human—she liked her dad even less. If he’d still been alive, she would have told him straight to his face what she thought of him.

Part of the problem was that he had been very much an alpha like she was, so they’d butted heads over the years. Sarah Playfair, her mother, had been a beta enabler. But what could she have done? Wolves stayed together forever.

She realized then that Archibald was talking about her father as if he was the greatest thing since the invention of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Apparently, he’d taken her dad fishing, hiking, and running as wolves—the last said in a “for her hearing only” way. So it did sound like he’d really been close to her dad. Better him than her.

She didn’t care what Archibald had enjoyed doing with her dad. She was curious whether her father had ever talked to Archibald about her. Not that she cared what he’d say, but if Archibald had known about her, had he thought her unimportant in the scheme of things until her father died?

She ordered fish and chips and water, and realized Archibald hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t really listening to what he said. He just continued on, as if he would get on her good side for being such a good friend of her father’s. That would be the day.

“Did my father talk about me?” she asked, feigning interest.

A shadow of concern appeared in Archibald’s expression, but then he quickly smiled and said, “Aye, he said you were a bonny lass.”

Either her father had lied, although she doubted he’d make the effort, or Archibald had. “So he told you how much I loved horses, then?”

She had never been near horses. But she wanted to catch him in his lies.

“Aye, I recall he mentioned something of your love of horses,” Archibald said, looking a little uneasy.

She loved making him squirm. She’d had to deal so much with her father’s deceitfulness that she couldn’t abide it in others. And didn’t need to.

“Did he tell you how proud he was when I earned my degree in mathematics?”

“Oh, aye. He said he wished he had your head for numbers and wished you’d visit while he was here so he could determine the discrepancies in the accounts at Farraige Castle.”

She frowned. Her father had hated that she was earning a degree in mathematics, hated that the genes that had made her ancestors so brilliant in the field had skipped him. Was Archibald making up the rest? Or had her father wanted to prove something was wrong with the accounts just to antagonize Grant?

Her phone rang in her purse, startling her. By the time she answered it, the phone had stopped ringing.

Looking at the caller ID, she was a little surprised to see it had been Grant. Hadn’t he wanted her gone? He should be happy and leave her well enough alone.

She called him back, noticing that Archibald was watching her intently. She suspected he wouldn’t be happy that Grant was checking up on her, or that she would immediately call him back.

“Hello, Grant. It’s me, Colleen,” she said in her most businesslike tone.

“Where the hell are you?”

As usual, he was abrupt, to the point, and not pretending in the least that he was interested in her.

She smiled at his brusque tone. Why in the world did it appeal so much to her?

Chapter 11

Grant couldn’t believe how damned possessive he felt about Colleen. Maybe it was guilt over being the one to tell her about her grandmother. He hadn’t handled the matter carefully enough.

The only good news was that the lass hadn’t packed her bags and left with them.

Both Lachlan and Enrick looked on, waiting to hear what Grant had learned about the lass as he tried to come up with something gentler to say to her over the phone, despite his anger and concern about her leaving without a word to him or anyone else.

When Colleen didn’t tell him where she was, he thought he might have upset her even more with his gruff, blunt tone. He couldn’t help it. He’d been frantic to learn where she had gone once he realized she wasn’t in the area. And he’d called several times, unable to reach her. Now that he had her on the phone, he wanted to know where the bloody hell she was.

But with Colleen, he had to temper his approach a bit, he realized.

“Sorry, lass. I’ve had men searching for you all over the place, fearing you’d had a wreck.”

“Oh,” she said coolly. “I’m at Kelton’s Pub.”

“Kelton’s Pub?” He cursed under his breath. How had she managed to drive that far? “Are you lost? Forget it. I’m coming to get you.”

“No. I’m fine,” she said, sounding determined to do this her way.

She had every right to, he knew, yet he didn’t want to worry about her even if he had nothing to concern himself with.

“How did she get there?” Enrick asked.

“Stay in the area,” Grant said to Colleen, ignoring his brother. He could only deal with one conversation at a time. “I’ll meet you at the pub in two hours.”

“Forget it, Grant. I’ll get a room at a local bed and breakfast.”

He ground his teeth. He didn’t like the scenario, but as long as she was fine, he really had no say in what she did or didn’t do. Maybe she’d feel better when she returned home.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?” Archibald asked Colleen in the background.

As soon as Grant heard Archibald speaking with her, he saw red.

The bastard was there? With Colleen? At the same pub? It was a date? What the hell was the deal with a bed and breakfast? Damnation.

Or maybe it hadn’t been a date and she had gotten in touch with Archibald so that she could air her gripes about Grant and his clan. Or cry on his shoulder about her grandmother.

If she needed to talk to anyone, it would be Grant. He knew her grandmother. Not that bastard.