Howl for a Highlander

by Terry Spear

  Well, normally. The MacNeill brothers were potentially titled, so each of them would be required to have a wedding in their kirk on the castle grounds or in the gardens, if the lass so preferred. A wedding was a necessity in the event that Ian didn’t have a son, nor Cearnach or Guthrie, leaving Duncan to have an heir to the title.

  He glanced over her shoulder to see what Shelley had found.

  Normally, werewolves kept their names out of the press. But with Silverman’s worldwide theft, his name was easy to Google. When his name came up, so did his mate’s in a few instances.

  “Hmm,” Shelley said, reading the news. “It says here that Carlotta Silverman had substantial savings in her name only and that the Feds aren’t considering her as suspect in the thievery.”

  Duncan’s gaze hardened as he read all the news stories, refreshing the memory of how he and his clan had read through the breaking news releases, concerned that the bastard would get caught and thrown in jail—and create a whole new scandal. One that werewolves couldn’t live with.

  “Nay. She just deposited all that stolen wealth into accounts in her name, not to mention showing ownership of all the properties they have. Of course, none of that has anything to do with her mate’s dirty dealings,” he said sarcastically.

  “I doubt she’d stand up to you or any of your clan if you took her to task about the money, Duncan. Certainly not once she realizes he stole from a wolf pack. He must never have associated with any other packs, or surely someone would have tried to take him down. I really believe this will work. What did your brother say?” She looked up at him with such expressive, large green eyes, willing him to allow her to help him with this, willing him to trust her.

  He pulled her from the chair and studied her parted lips, which she immediately licked. Whether that was in response to what she knew he wanted or because his reaction was making her nervous, he didn’t know. And didn’t care.

  He held her shoulders with a desperate grip as if he was afraid she might say no, that she might back away, that she might slip free, and he pressed his mouth against hers.

  She melted beneath his touch, which propelled him forth, drawing him deeper, dangerously so. Her hands clutched his waist, not pushing him away but holding herself up, holding him close. Her mouth fused with his, heating his lips and begging for more. His erection jerked to attention, hard and ready to follow his orders. He wanted to lift her and carry her to the master bedroom and ravish her first on the soft mattress and later that evening in the ocean, bringing her fantasies and his to fruition.

  “It’s forever,” he mouthed against her lips, his pressed tenderly, hoping she’d agree, afraid she would not.

  She licked his lips with the tip of her tongue, teasing them. As soon as he opened his mouth to draw her in, she swept her mouth against his hard jaw, not taking his bait. She ran her hands over his back and pressed her belly against his raging erection. “Mating? Or something else?” she asked, her voice ragged with lust.

  Her tone was sexy, heated, making his temperature rise even more.

  “When I saw you at the airport,” he rasped out, “hell, saw you wearing all that silver, I wanted to grasp the chain at your waist and drag you to me and hold on tight.”

  She gave a low, throaty chuckle. “I thought you looked like a damned hungry wolf—dangerous and all alpha. I guessed right.”

  “If another man had approached you, human or wolf, and even if you’d planned a rendezvous with him, I doubt I would have permitted it.”

  She laughed. “Wouldn’t he have been surprised if a man he didn’t know had approached and told him to butt out when he and I already had a date?”

  “But you wouldn’t have been surprised.” He traced her jawline with a tender touch that seemed at odds with the gruffness in his voice.

  “No, I would have expected as much from a wolf like you.” Then she sighed. “I don’t know enough about you—nor do you know enough about me—to make anything permanent.”

  “I know that if I don’t return to Scotland with you, I will forever regret the decision. Tell me you feel the same way.”

  He could feel her heated skin against his, her body soft and yielding, not stiff and pulling away. He knew she wanted this as much as he did.

  She coiled a finger around his chest hair, staring at it, not lifting her gaze to meet his, unable to deny what he knew they both felt. “My mother and my uncles…”

  “Aren’t mating me.”

  She looked up at him then, smiled, and took a ragged breath. “They’ll want my happiness. They still hold a grudge against the Highland chief who threw us off the land.”

  “I’m not him.”

  “No, but your family did the same to your own people.”

  He ran his hands down her arms, then wrapped them around her back and hugged her tightly, showing her he didn’t intend to let her go. “Eons ago. Think of this as making amends.”

  “You don’t have to do this for my…”

  “Hell, Shelley. Do you want me to get down on bended knee?” He was serious, but he wasn’t sure she was taking him seriously.

  She grinned at him. “A warrior like you begging me to say yes?”

  He shrugged, unable to maintain a serious expression, his mouth curving upward some.

  She shook her head. “No, don’t bother. I’d laugh too hard and spoil the moment.”

  He caressed her soft cheek and tipped her chin up with his fingers so he could drown in her green gaze. “So you’ll say yes?”

  “If I don’t, you won’t give up trying, will you?”

  “Hell, no.” With that, he took her response as a yes, swept her up in his arms, and headed for the bed.

  But she wasn’t done protesting. “What do we really have in common?”

  “You and I love swimming together.”

  She chuckled at that. “You make a damned good anchor.”

  “You make a damned good mermaid wrapped around my anchor.”

  She smiled up at him with a devilish gleam to her eye, but then she sighed. “There has to be more.”

  “Aye, lass, there is. I love running with you in the woods and intend to take you running in the Caledonian Forest anytime your heart desires. I love playing with you in the water and tackling you in wolf play in the house.”

  “You’re afraid to tackle me,” she said, as he put her down on the bed.

  “I’m used to rough-housing with my brothers and male cousins. I’d never wrestled with a she-wolf before, and I was afraid I might get a little too physical.”

  She reached up and grabbed hold of his shirt. “You’re going to have to wrestle with me, Duncan MacNeill, and get a little physical. It’s all part of a wolf showing who’s boss. When I win too easily, it’s not as much fun.”

  He growled with impatient need. “I’m all for getting a lot more physical with you, lass. Believe me.”

  “We’ve already wrestled some. I stood on your chest in triumph when you broke into the house without invitation, but I would have liked to have worked harder at it.”

  He slid his hands under her shirt and fondled her breasts, covered in a silky bra, making her nipples harden like rough diamonds. “Next time, I won’t be so easily cowed.”

  She laughed. “You? Cowed?”

  “Only with you. And only as a means to an end.” He lifted her shirt, exposing her lace-covered breasts, and then reached behind her to unfasten her bra. “You love to watch me sword fight,” he added, getting back to everything she loved about him, hoping he could think of enough common areas of interest that she would capitulate. “You love my cooking.”

  “Hmm. I do love both.” She copied him by sliding her hands up his shirt and running her fingers and palms over his pecs. Having her touch his skin ratchetted his heartbeat up several notches.

  “You like that I’m a movie star,” he said, barely able to repress a smile.

  “But you said you were only an extra and didn’t even get the girl.”

  “A
ye, which is good for you, because I’m free to pursue the one I really want.” He stared at her shirt, her bra unfastened but not going anywhere unless he peeled everything off. But she was just as sexy half undone as she was totally naked. He slid his hands over her breasts, pushing the bra cups up and out of his way.

  “You don’t like plants,” she said in an accusing tone. “Don’t deny it.”

  “I have offered to show you our gardens at Argent Castle, a guided tour even. I don’t doubt that in your capable hands, I could become quite knowledgeable about plants. We even have a secluded arbor in the rose gardens and a gate that can be secured for privacy.”

  “Where I could teach you about the different varieties of roses?”

  “Where I could teach you what else can grow in a garden.”

  She laughed. “I love your sense of humor.”

  “See? You love lots about me already. When we get home, I can show you my sword.”

  She slid her hand over his crotch, making his arousal jerk with enthusiasm. “I’ve seen your sword, and it’s mighty impressive.”

  “So say yes,” he said, unzipping her pants, then tugging them down her hips. If she didn’t say yes, he was going to die an excruciatingly agonizing death. At least for the moment, because no matter what, he wasn’t giving up on her.

  “I have poodles. Your Irish wolfhounds will eat them.”

  He laughed. “They will romp through the castle together as one big happy family.”

  “You don’t like poodles.”

  “I will learn to love them.”

  “What about my job?”

  “What do you think about teaching the clan’s children about plants? I know it’s not the same as teaching at a college, but we don’t have anyone who teaches the subject, and we homeschool all our children.”

  “But I bet you teach them sword fighting.”

  “Aye.”

  “Not the girls, though.”

  “If any want to learn…”

  “I want to.”

  He laughed. “I would be happy to show you how to swing a sword.” He could imagine holding her back against his chest as he leaned forward and held her arms and helped her swing. He’d have to take her somewhere private as he was certain anything he did with her would get him into the mood for another bout of this kind of play.

  She seemed to consider her options, her gaze focusing on nothing in particular, her fingers stroking his chest in a tantalizing way. If he didn’t get her stripped and naked soon…

  “All… right,” she said slowly, and he could see some apprehension in her eyes. She would move in with his clan, his wolf pack, an American who wasn’t familiar with their ways. And she was willing.

  Not about to allow her to change her mind, he pulled off her capris, threw them aside, and then began to slide her shirt and bra off. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, and he was reminded of the mermaid and the anchor and smiled.

  “Wait until I get you back in the water,” he said.

  “Just as long as you follow through on your promises.”

  “Oh, aye, lass, ’tis what I’m good at.”

  “And sword fighting.”

  “Aye.” He jerked his shirt over his head and threw it to the floor, then reached for his belt, taking in her contemplative expression, her full breasts, and her extended nipples that looked like mouthwatering cherries waiting for his kisses. He thought about the way she’d eaten the cherry from his hot fudge sundae.

  “You’re not in a rush, are you?” she asked, leaning forward and running her fingers over the swelling in his jeans.

  Her touch made his erection jump again. He marveled at the way the she-wolf could make him react so quickly.

  “Aye. The next time, I’ll try to take it slower.”

  “All right, then. Hurry up before I see reason and change my mind.”

  “You are seeing reason, and you won’t change your mind.”

  He stood before her naked, only long enough for her to take a good lingering look, which was killing him. She swept her gaze all the way down him as though he were prime meat and she was ready to sink her teeth into him.

  She smiled and sighed at what she saw, her gaze shifting to his face. “Maybe we should wrestle first. Make sure that we’re suitably matched.”

  “We are suitably matched,” he said, and before she could say another word, he was moving her into the middle of the bed, his knees planted on either side of her thighs, his head dipping for a long, slow—painfully slow—kiss on her lips as his arousal prodded him to go faster.

  He didn’t let the rest of his body touch hers, not yet. Every time she touched him, he wanted to thrust between her legs, claim her for his mate, and keep her with him forever. That was another reason why he hadn’t removed her panties despite the temptation to just take her.

  Her hands cupped his face as she kissed him back, her moistened lips teasing and sweeping across his, but it soon turned to something much more passionate and fiery, her tongue exploring his mouth, his penetrating hers. Her hands quickly shifted to his shoulders as she steeled herself, her heartbeat thundering with need as he smelled her pheromones. They instantly kicked up a firestorm in him.

  The way she raised her thigh and rubbed gently against his cock and balls really got his attention. He shifted his mouth from hers to a hot nipple and lathed it with his tongue. He knew without even touching her that she was wet and ready for him. He wanted more. He wanted to hear her beg him to follow through, to force the issue. This time he kneed her legs apart.

  But of all the damn times to get a call, Shelley’s cell phone rang. “Leave it,” she said, as he looked over the mattress to the floor where her cell phone was in her pants pocket.

  “After I turn it off.” He climbed off the bed, fished the phone out of her pocket—not intending to look at the caller ID but noting it was from an Ethan Campbell—and then shut it off.

  He retrieved his phone and turned it off also, just in case.

  When he returned to bed, he thought she looked as though she half wished he’d tell her who was calling and half wished he’d keep it a secret. Duncan didn’t want her kin getting between them, whoever Ethan might be, so he didn’t say, figuring he’d abide by her wish not to know.

  Her legs were still spread, the patch of curly auburn hair between her thighs taking his attention before he moved in between her legs. He began to stroke her swollen nub with his finger, his tongue licking her navel, his libido cooled somewhat from the phone call.

  She was quickly aroused full tilt again, her fingers sliding through his hair, her body arching beneath his strokes. It wasn’t enough to have her begging for more. He had to possess, to conquer, to give in to her needs as well. His mouth covered hers and his body did the rest—his penis nudging at her entrance, entering, allowing her heated velvet sheath to accommodate him—until he was all the way in. Tight. Hell, she felt as though she was virginal the way she hugged his penis so constrictively, and it felt damned good.

  He thrust deep inside, penetrating her deepest chasm. That connection meant she was his, just as he would always be hers, his mate, forever.

  “Love me,” she whispered, her voice soft, warm, and husky like a breeze on a summer’s night.

  He did, with every ounce that he possessed. He loved her, pumping into her with an enthusiasm he’d never felt before with any woman, creating a union that was not just sex but an unbreakable link between them that would last through the ages.

  “Duncan,” she said, barely able to say his name.

  He sensed she was climbing to the peak, her body feverishly stretching out to reach the climax as he thrust into her deeper, seeking the pleasure that only came from a permanent mating.

  He couldn’t respond, couldn’t say her name, and suspected she didn’t care that he was so wrapped up in the way her muscles clenched around him and her supple body arched against him, gyrating a little as if to allow him deeper access, that the headboard was banging against the wall.


  The moment she cried out in the ecstasy of their union—of their bodies grinding and arching and thrusting as if they were a well-oiled machine, two parts as one—he came, explosively spilling his seed into her womb.

  He at once thought of how he would deal with babies and wolf pups—him, a dark warrior.

  He sank down on top of her for a moment, trying to catch his breath, all the blood having run straight to his groin. For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything but holding her beneath him, just like this.

  He stirred and felt himself hardening again, but he fully intended to get off her, not wanting to crush her with his weight.

  She kept him in place. “Stay,” she said, “just like this, inside me, on top of me, all around me.”

  Then she went to sleep, and he thought life couldn’t get any better.

  Chapter 13

  Shelley knew this was exactly what she’d always dreamed of when she woke to find Duncan still sleeping soundly, her body now nestled against his. She wondered when he had changed position, enabling her to sleep half on top of him so that he wouldn’t crush her. He didn’t crush her, though, when he was on top of her, instead making her feel protected and loved.

  He was wonderful, a considerate and consummate lover, passionate, yet tender at the same time. She knew beyond a doubt that he loved her.

  She couldn’t help worrying about what her family would say concerning her mating with him without their input. She didn’t need anyone’s approval. But knowing her uncles, she was certain they’d think otherwise. She could imagine them worrying that Duncan had forced her into agreeing to a mating, as alpha as he was, and because he was the kind of man who, when he decided something, went into battle mode to get it. She liked that about him, liked that he cared so much about his family’s financial troubles that he had intended to take on Sal Silverman alone—and anyone else the bastard hired to do his dirty work.