Highland Werewolf Wedding

by Terry Spear

  Duncan made a mess of them, not bothering to neaten up after himself. Guthrie smiled at him, knowing that with the way a wolf could smell scents, the renter would realize another wolf had handled his property. No sense in trying to hide the fact.

  They returned to the office, and while Guthrie worked on breaking through the wolf’s security code on his computer, Duncan searched through all the drawers in the room, then began to pull books off a shelf and flip through each and every one of them.

  Duncan found nothing, which was more than odd. He turned to watch Guthrie.

  No matter how good his skills were at hacking, Guthrie was unable to get into the man’s computer. He glanced at Duncan, then at the mass of books thrown on the floor in a heap. Guthrie knew Duncan wouldn’t intentionally make a mess of someone else’s place unless he had good reason. To make a statement. To make the wolf beware. Elaine now had family, a new family, to protect her. Duncan couldn’t help feeling antagonistic about the wolf who lived here.

  “What do you suspect, Duncan?” Guthrie asked, standing.

  Oran and his brothers came to the doorway of the office, shaking their heads as Duncan considered them. “We didn’t find any clues,” Oran said.

  “There’s nothing personal here anywhere. How can anyone live so long in a place and have nothing that would clue others in about his habits, interests, lifestyle?” Duncan said. “I have a feeling he’s connected somehow to Elaine, her family, something. And it’s not in a good way.” That’s all Duncan had to say. A wolf’s instincts were often right.

  “Okay.” Guthrie sat back down at Mr. Hazelton’s computer. “Let’s see what we can learn about old Samuel here.”

  ***

  Much later that evening, Cearnach and Elaine returned to Argent Castle, where she almost felt at home. Calling a massive castle in a different country “home” seemed strange. Actually, being at the castle wasn’t what made her feel that way, but being with Cearnach. He was home for her.

  Most everyone had retired for the night, although Ian told Cearnach that his brothers and cousins were still at the keep, trying to break into the renter’s computer. No sign of the man as yet. And no indication that he was related to Elaine or that any treasure was hidden within.

  “I’m worried about them,” Elaine said to Cearnach.

  “They’ll be fine.”

  Dismissing her concern, he told her they were warriors, used to business like this. She still couldn’t help herself. She hadn’t thought they’d do anything more than she and Cearnach had done. Search the place. Not try to break into his computer. But Cearnach had warned her they would be thorough.

  She could see that Cearnach had only one thing in mind as he hurried her up to their bedchamber. As soon as he shut the door, she yanked aside the curtain on her side of the bed. He turned to see her sitting on the mattress, yawning. She attempted to fight the tiredness that racked her body, but she couldn’t shake it off. After the ghostly problems last night and the jet lag from the day before, then washing all those huge pups earlier today and running all over Scotland searching for treasure, she was exhausted.

  Cearnach stalked toward her, his gaze predatory, not in the least bit tired. He crouched before her and pulled off one of her boots, then the other. “It’s late and way past time for bed.”

  She smiled at him and cupped his face, then lifted it to look up at her. “If anyone had told me I’d be sleeping with a Highland wolf in a castle in Scotland…”

  “Mated to a wolf,” he corrected her. “There’s a vast difference. Last night, you slept with a wolf. Tonight, you’re with your mate.”

  Mated to a wolf. She liked the way he said it. The connection that now stood between them for the rest of their days.

  His warm fingers stroked up her belly underneath the sweater, higher until he ran his hands over her breasts and squeezed them. Already his erection was heavy against her thigh, his breathing rough, hers getting rougher. She’d never known being with a wolf could be this good.

  He pushed the sweater up, exposing her breasts. Cool air from the room mixed with his heated breath to make her nipples stand at attention. Her breasts felt heavier, achy, needy. Just like the area between her legs was feeling needy. Then he licked her nipples, tasting, swirling his tongue around one and then the other.

  He raised his mouth to hers, his soft sweater brushing her bare breasts as he rocked his erection against her leg, simulating being inside her. Her mouth caressed his, her tongue sweeping out to lick his, her teeth gently nipping his lips in a wolfish way.

  He groaned with need, his fingers combing through her hair as she tugged at his sweater to pull it up. To feel his heated skin rubbing against hers. The pleasure of his mouth on hers, his tongue teasing her own, his body sliding against hers, all made her want to be naked, to have him deep inside her… now.

  “I want you,” she whispered against his mouth. Her hands glided down his bare back and managed to slip into his jeans. He wasn’t wearing any boxers. Good. She cupped his ass. “Now.” Her hushed voice came out a low growl.

  He smiled, then whispered in Gaelic, making an ancient connection with her—not just a wolfish one, but a Highland one as well.

  She loved hearing the words that said he loved her, and she repeated them to him even though hers had an American accent. He seemed to love the way she said the words, no matter what her accent was. Then he stripped off her sweater and then his, tossing them to the floor.

  This was more like it. Her bare chest to his. Skin to skin. Nipples to nipples, his just as erect as hers were.

  He nuzzled her face, kissed her throat, and licked it, sending a new wave of heat coursing through every blood vessel. The pleasure was so intense that she felt her sex wet and prepared for him.

  He brushed his lips across her throat, then lower, licking a trail down between her breasts all the way to her navel, his fingers working feverishly to unfasten her pants. He unzipped her jeans, then plunged his hand inside between her legs, feeling her wetness, his fingers entering her, cupping her, demanding.

  She was on fire, the sensation of his touch, determination, and urgency sending her up in flames. Waves of orgasm struck as if the sun had just warmed the room, the bed, and her, even though it was dark out, cold and gloomy.

  His jeans and hers were on the floor before she realized just how fast he could move.

  He climbed on top of her, pressing her thighs apart. He pushed his cock slowly into the center of her being, deepening the drive, not in a hurry, although he looked as though it was killing him to hold back. His mouth sought hers and she took him in, his tongue slipping inside, deep and penetrating.

  She wanted him to make love to her as fast and furiously as he was able. She tightened around him—her sheath, her body, her legs, her arms, her lips around his tongue—holding the powerful wolf in her grasp. He was hers. Every glorious, muscled bit of him. And she loved him.

  Feral need demanded action as Cearnach slid deeply into his mate, his love, her erotic scent assaulting his senses and making him plunge deeper, faster. He wanted to go slower, but the way she was digging her heels into his arse and her nails were gliding down his back, the way she clenched his cock and rocked upward to meet his thrusts, he couldn’t hold on. Then she sucked on his tongue and he nearly lost it.

  He’d wanted her ever since he’d made love to her in the kennel. Wanted to taste her and feel her clenching him in the most pleasurable way, to hold her close like a mate would, to love her.

  She was the only one for him. The girl from so long ago. The woman now cradling him between her legs. He thrust his aching arousal into her, her pulse and his rapidly beating in unison, the tiny waves of pleasure wracking her body and feeding his own need to make her come again.

  Pulling his mouth free from hers, he nuzzled her face, then licked her jaw. He clutched her hips as
he pumped into her, her body grinding against his, the blood pooling in his groin, the climax so close that he barely breathed.

  Then he came, explosively, deep inside her, bathing her in his seed.

  He thought briefly about the puppy Elaine wanted from Sheba’s litter and how soon she’d have her own werewolf litter to love, too. He’d make sure of it in the most pleasurable of ways.

  ***

  In the middle of the night, Elaine woke with Cearnach’s body wrapped soundly around hers. She heard the muffled sound of the dogs barking in the kennel, alerting of trespassers or something. She couldn’t sleep until she discovered what the matter was.

  She untangled herself from Cearnach, pulled aside the curtains, and left the bed. After crossing the floor, she opened the window to look out. The air was cold and damp, and she shivered.

  That’s when she heard wolves howling farther away in the woods surrounding the castle. Were they some of Cearnach’s people? Running as wolves in the woods tonight?

  Or were they some of her kin? Why, if they were McKinleys or Kilpatricks, would they be prowling the woods here?

  She returned to Cearnach’s side of the bed and said softly to wake him, “Cearnach.”

  He didn’t stir. She walked back over to the window and saw men on the wall walk looking in the direction of the forest. She couldn’t sleep anyway, so she might as well find out what was going on. She quickly yanked on her sweater, jeans, and boots, then left the bedchamber, half expecting others from the keep to also be headed outside to learn what the matter was. Unless the wolves were just the MacNeills—then no one would be paying any attention to them.

  She considered that she might look foolish, worrying about something she had no need to be concerned about, but she was checking the matter out just the same.

  Chapter 23

  Wolves still howled in the woods beyond the walls of Argent Castle, calling to Elaine as she left the warmth of the keep and headed for the gates in the frigid weather. Gray clouds blocked any sign of stars clinging to the heavens tonight. She realized she should have borrowed Heather’s coat again.

  She also realized she couldn’t see anything beyond the walls surrounding the inner bailey, which was the point of being protected by massive walls of stone. The heavy oak gates were closed for the night so the only way she would see what was going on outside the castle would be to climb to the top of the castle wall. She imagined that the stairs to the wall walk were encased in the two towers flanking the gate.

  Brass lanterns lighted some areas—the doorway to the kennels, to the horses’ stalls, and to the castle. Since only lupus garous lived here, they could see well enough in the dark.

  Six men were watching the forest from the top of the wall walks, four on one side of the gate, two on the other. She didn’t recognize any of them and hoped they wouldn’t mind her joining them up there.

  She hurried across the courtyard, and when she reached the doorway to one of the gate towers, she yanked at the door handle, half expecting it to be locked. It wasn’t and the door squeaked open, alerting anyone above that she was on her way to join them.

  When she reached the wall walk, the four men were looking in her direction, not at the woods.

  “Lass,” the one said, his eyes wide, appearing startled to see her there. “Does Cearnach know ye are here?”

  She shook her head. “He’s still asleep. I couldn’t wake him.”

  “I’m his cousin, Oran,” the man said. He was smiling with boyish charm, yet he was all muscle and braw warrior and tall like the rest of his kin. He was one of Heather’s brothers. “Ye just didn’t give him the right incentive to wake.”

  Her face blossomed with heat, and she quickly walked over to the wall and peered out at the woods. “Whose wolves are howling? Yours?”

  “Nay, lass. Yours.”

  The only reason they were interested in her being family was because of the stolen goods. Maybe… her properties as well. She saw eyes glowing in the woods. Wolves’ eyes. They stopped howling, watching her as she observed them. They obviously knew who she was. Was Robert Kilpatrick among them? The brute Vardon McKinley?

  “Why are they here?” she asked.

  Oran pointed to the private drive.

  She glanced to the left and saw a car sitting some distance from the closed gate on the gravel drive. Lanterns at the castle entryway cast light that shimmered off the wet silver metal. Heart thumping erratically, she paused for a fraction of a minute, so stupefied to see the car sitting there that she didn’t recognize it as hers. When realization dawned, she whipped around and headed for the stairs in the tower.

  She couldn’t be more excited. She was certain the battle between the clans would be averted with just that one gesture of appeasement.

  “Wait, lass,” Oran commanded, hurrying after her. “Where are you going?”

  “To get my car. All my belongings. I have to make sure it’s all there.”

  “We can’t open the gates,” Oran said, as he followed her down the stairs while the other men remained watchful on top of the wall walk. “No’ until they’re opened come morn.”

  Ignoring him, she finally reached the gates and stood there staring at them as if they’d just magically open. She turned to scowl at Oran. “I want my rental car and my belongings. They’ve left it here as I asked, as they should have. They probably figured I wouldn’t talk with Robert until he met my demands.”

  “Perhaps.” Oran folded his arms across his broad chest, his brow lifting. “Perhaps not. The car will be here when Ian gives the word that we can open the gates to retrieve it in the morn.”

  “At least call him on your cell phone and let him know it’s here. That he doesn’t need to go to war over this.”

  “Lass, unless the castle is on fire, we dinna disturb our laird in the middle of the night. Especially not since he picked a mate.”

  “Fine. I’ll wake Cearnach. He’s next in command, right?”

  Oran’s mouth kicked up at the corner a bit. “If Ian isn’t here, aye.”

  “He isn’t. He’s indisposed.” She stormed back toward the keep as fast as she could manage. She imagined her rental car vanishing before she was able to return for it, just like before.

  Oran chuckled. “Cearnach has his hands full.”

  “But will she be returning when she wakes him?” one of the men hollered from the top of the wall walk, humor lacing his words.

  Elaine snorted. Cearnach would want to see if his stuff had been returned as much as she did hers.

  Annoyed with Oran, Elaine hurried to the stairs to Cearnach’s bedchamber. When she reached his door, she opened, then closed it. She heard nothing but his quiet breathing and knew he was still sound asleep, never aware that she’d left him alone in the first place. She rushed around the bed to his side and yanked open the curtains.

  His eyes popped open, and he grabbed a sword sheathed beside the bed that she had not noticed before.

  Eyes wide, Elaine quickly moved back out of the path of the Highland warrior, afraid he wasn’t awake enough to realize she wasn’t a threat to him. “It’s just me, Cearnach,” she said in a rush.

  “Lass, what are you doing out of bed?” Then he frowned. “Flynn hasn’t been bothering you, has he?”

  “No. I heard the dogs barking and then wolves howling and went to see what the matter was. The McKinleys and Kilpatricks were prowling through your woods in wolf form.”

  “Ah, that’s the trouble.” He sheathed his sword and reached out to snag her hand.

  Before she could dodge away from his quick action, knowing just where this would lead if she didn’t, he had her by the wrist, stopping her, his mouth curved up, warning her that she shouldn’t have awakened him. He pulled her into bed with him. “You’re freezing. You shouldn’t have been running around the bailey w
ithout being more properly dressed. I’ll warm you up.”

  He tugged off one of her boots and then the other.

  “They brought my car back,” she said, trying to free herself, but he was all muscled arms and legs and body, claiming her as he pulled the covers over them. Yet she thought if he knew the importance of why she wanted to leave the bed and wanted him to go with her, he’d agree and help retrieve her car. Surely.

  “Even your nose is cold, lass,” he said, kissing it.

  So much for him being interested in the return of her car.

  “Cearnach,” she said sharply, trying to get him to pay attention to her. “My rental car—”

  “Will be there in the morning if you have come to tell me they delivered it and it is beyond our gate, which is closed for now. It won’t be opened without Ian’s approval, and he would not give it at this time of night…”

  “Because he’s with his new mate, your cousin said.”

  “Aye, true enough.”

  “Well, since you’re second in charge…”

  “When Ian is not on the premises or otherwise indisposed.”

  “Then he’s otherwise indisposed…”

  “If the matter is of the utmost importance.” He kissed her cheeks, his hands caressing her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples.

  “It is.”

  “Nay, it is not. The gate stays closed, except like last night when the pack was waiting for our return and the others who went searching for us. Keeping the gate closed now means security of the pack. The car can wait until morning. This can’t.” He pressed his heavy, hard erection against her thigh. “Lass,” Cearnach said, with such longing that she couldn’t have fought him to come with her outside even if she’d wanted to.

  The men at the wall walk had been right. Once she woke Cearnach, he wasn’t about to let her leave his bed again that night. As much as she wanted her car back, and everything else her cousins had stolen, she wanted these stolen moments with Cearnach more. She also realized he was right about leaving the gate closed. She had been alone for so long, dealing with issues on her own, never with a pack to worry about or to be concerned about her. The notion was so alien that she couldn’t get used to it.