Hero of a Highland Wolf

by Terry Spear

  ***

  “In private?” Colleen said, folding her arms as she regarded Grant with an alpha’s stare.

  From when she’d first arrived, Colleen did not think she had come on too strong with Grant MacQuarrie. Then again, considering he was a Highlander who probably wasn’t used to a woman telling him what to do, maybe she had. Although, come to think of it, her grandmother must have been running things until she died. Maybe she’d been easygoing with Grant and his kin and allowed them to do as they pleased. Her cousins had warned Colleen that if she didn’t play hardball with Grant, he’d bulldoze right over her, and she wouldn’t have a say in anything—despite the castle being hers. She had meant to be nice, even knowing he was trying to scare her off.

  She arched a brow when he didn’t agree to meet with her in private.

  “Come this way,” he said, his voice gruff, annoyed, as if she had pushed him to the edge.

  She hadn’t gotten that far yet. Wait until he knew her next plan of attack. That would teach him to take her on.

  After Julia warned her what Grant had planned, Colleen had tried to go along with it—for the time being—to show him that he didn’t need to feel threatened.

  She wasn’t sure what had made her snap and gather up her mental sword to fight him, but she suspected it was because she’d been sick with no bathroom close by when she was trying to sleep last night. No way had she wanted to sleep in Grant’s bed—with him. She only vaguely remembered being closer to the bathroom. Like she would have been in her own home. In her groggy state, when she retired after another trip to the bathroom, she had believed that was her bed.

  She wondered how long he had remained there before he left his chamber.

  She was tired and cross, and she wasn’t about to take any more crap from the Highlander. He was probably just as fatigued and annoyed. They both needed naps—in separate beds.

  He ran his hand over his disheveled hair. His face sported whiskers and his hair was mussed from having just woken up, making him look ruggedly sexy and just a little barbaric. He looked like he’d love to take her on in the inner bailey, to fight a duel to see just who would win. And truly? She was ready.

  The she-wolf was more stubborn than any Grant had ever met.

  Colleen smiled, the look pure vixen, Grant thought. Dressed in warmer clothes today because the temperature had dropped, she wore burgundy brushed-suede boots that added an inch and a half to her petite height, snug-fitting jeans that showed off her toned legs, and a mint-green cashmere sweater that hugged her breasts. She looked…edible. Not hot and sexy, but soft and tasty.

  If the lass thought to tell him she intended to find someone else to take his place, Grant ought to leave her to her own devices. Order his pack to depart. She couldn’t even lock the gates at night without him and his men to do the job.

  She’d be begging him to return after one night.

  He motioned for her to follow and headed down the hallway.

  He wanted to get this out in the open with his brother present. But he decided it might be better to sequester her in his study and lay down the law there. It was killing him to do so. He had nothing to hide from his people.

  When they reached the study, he let her go in first, then he followed and shut the door. Before he could utter a word, she motioned for him to be quiet.

  He glowered at her, not believing her gall. She was beautiful, a spitfire, and a royal pain in the arse.

  He said, “Why don’t we take a seat.”

  “Fine.” She sat on one of the leather chairs facing him. The day was misty and no sun graced the room this morning, so it seemed darker than usual with rows of books lining one wall and his desk against another. Wood was stacked in the fireplace, ready to add a warm glow to the room later tonight. “Okay, I know you didn’t want me here to begin with, but you knew I had to come. So first of all, get used to the idea. I certainly didn’t expect you to be so melodramatic about it,” she said.

  “Melodr—”

  “I loved how you put on the sparring show yesterday. So did Julia. The whisky was a little much. But I could deal with that. The bedroom without a bathroom? Nah. Not for a year and a day.”

  He didn’t say a word. Had someone told her the White Room didn’t have a bathroom? Or was she referring to the lady’s chamber?

  “You were to stay in the lady’s chamber only for the night. Beyond that…”

  “Beyond that, you will stay in the White Room. Or some other you so choose.”

  His jaw dropped. He didn’t know what to say. She had the right to move anyone from any chamber she wished. The property was hers. But he couldn’t believe she’d do it. To him.

  He folded his arms and glowered at her. How would that look to his people? He ground his teeth, attempting to keep from saying what he knew he might later regret.

  “The point I want to make is that I have no intention of changing anything unless I believe it necessary once I get the layout of things here. So you are jumping the gun, to my way of thinking. If I suggest some changes later and you don’t like them, we can talk about them. Civilly. Castle owner to castle manager.” She smiled.

  Her expression was pure evil.

  “About the White Room…” he said. He couldn’t sleep in there.

  “You can move out of the laird’s chamber by nightfall. No rush.”

  He ground his teeth some more and glared at her, but for the first time ever, he didn’t have a good comeback. Somehow the American she-wolf had taken control.

  “You said you were going to find—”

  “A solution to the problem.” She again smiled wickedly, and he suspected she meant he’d be out on his ear if he didn’t like it. “Now, if you don’t want to deal with me, that’s perfectly acceptable. Maybe one of your brothers could speak to me on your behalf and I could tell him what I’d like, and he could relay the message to you.”

  “Bloody hell, woman.”

  This time her smile was highly amused.

  “You will deal with me. Not my brothers. Not my clansmen. They are all part of my wolf pack. Together we manage your castle, but I run the pack. No one else.” He wanted to say she had no part in telling his people what to do, but he attempted to keep his temper before he said too much more.

  “I completely understand.”

  Surprised she’d acquiesce, he was still on guard. “You and your cousins are without any other family? You are not part of a pack?” He wanted to know if she was in charge of a pack and was used to getting her way because of it. What if she moved her whole pack here to take over?

  “What I do back home doesn’t concern you, Laird MacQuarrie. Now, can we have some breakfast? On plates? Or do I have to buy some for myself to use while I’m here?”

  He growled under his breath. He’d already ordered that the dining tables be returned to the dining hall, that plates would be used for all future meals, and that silverware would be present. “It’s already set up the way I’m sure you’re accustomed. As to the White Room…”

  “I hear it has a beautiful view of the gardens and the North Sea. You will love it, I’m told.”

  How the hell did she know that?

  She smiled. Then she rose from the chair and flounced toward the doorway of the study without another word, as if she owned the place. Which, damn it to hell, she did.

  He would never live it down if—instead of the lass—he had to sleep in the White Room. But worse? That she would sleep in his chambers!

  Chapter 6

  Colleen really hadn’t wanted to force Grant to leave his own room. She knew the impact that would have—the fact he might lose face with his people. On the other hand, she had to take drastic measures to show she was in charge if she was going to live here for so long.

  Thankfully, before she had found Grant that morning, she had overheard two of his men discussing the
fact that he had given her the White Room. They couldn’t believe he would do such a thing. They’d mentioned the location, and when she had time and could check it out without anyone being the wiser, she would. Though she was just as clueless as earlier as to what made the room unappealing. Then she heard Darby, who she suspected was Grant’s manservant of sorts, giving Grant an earful about that woman in his chamber.

  Grant had really brought all of this upon himself. If she made him do this, maybe he’d cool his heels a bit and see that she was not the enemy and that she could change the arrangements in a few days to accommodate them both. Besides, if he was all hot alpha, his people wouldn’t say anything to his face about the room changes. Maybe behind his back, but not be up-front. He could handle it. She assumed he’d suddenly find a more suitable chamber than the one he had planned for her to use that they probably believed was haunted. She couldn’t imagine what else could be wrong with it.

  Before she left the study, Darby blocked her exit.

  “Pardon the interruption, my laird,” Darby said over her head, preventing her from leaving, “but Laird Borthwick is here to see the lady.”

  That gave her a little thrill of expectation. Archibald Borthwick had been waiting for a friend to arrive at the airport, but he’d been delayed several hours and Archibald had started a conversation with her, welcoming her to Scotland with such friendliness that she had admired him for it. She hadn’t expected him to see her so soon, or here like this without calling first. He’d offered to buy her lunch and to drive her from the airport to Farraige Castle, but she’d already rented a car and was dying to see her castle and what Grant intended to do when she arrived. But what a pleasant surprise to see Laird Borthwick now, and a welcome break from dealing with Grant.

  “Borthwick is here, is he?” Grant started to leave the study in a gruff manner, acting as though he intended to throw the man out.

  Intent on stopping him, Colleen quickly seized his arm. His hot, hard, bare, muscular arm.

  Their gazes instantly collided. The astonished look he gave her amused her. She was certain no one grabbed him and stayed him like that. She was used to stopping her cousins in such a manner if she felt the need. She hadn’t thought anything of it. Just a natural reaction on her part.

  Grant wasn’t anything like her cousins. He wasn’t a beta. He was a warrior from a long line of warriors. And he looked at her like he wasn’t sure what to do with her. Thrash her or…well, thrash her.

  “I’ll speak with him,” she said to Darby as if Grant had no business making such a decision. Which he didn’t.

  Darby looked from her to Grant’s arm, and she quickly released Grant, the contact making her think of manhandling him for other reasons. Like wrestling him to the ground in play, except she was not thinking in terms of playing—really. Why her thoughts turned so wicked when she was with him, or…not with him, she wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because he wore that sexy kilt again. Bare legs and feet this time and, of course, the bare chest, though his skin was now clean of oil. That made her think of how much she’d love to oil him down again—until he spoke and got her mind back on track where it needed to be.

  “He is not one to trifle with,” Grant said, barely suppressing a growl and not believing the lass was interested in meeting with the man.

  When Colleen had seized his arm to stop him from confronting Borthwick and tossing him off the premises, Grant immediately saw a flicker of a smile on Darby’s lips. The man was the most serious of wolves. He rarely smiled, though he was a happy sort. He just didn’t wear his expressions for all to see. So when the lass grabbed Grant, he was surprised to see Darby’s reaction. But no more so than Grant himself was shocked at the lass’s action.

  He should have been angry with her, but instead, her touch made him think of more carnal pursuits. He’d never had a woman treat him in such a manner. He instantly had the notion of throwing her over his shoulder and marching up the stairs to his bedchamber, where he would have no interruptions while they continued to iron out the details of her stay. Thinking of tossing her on his bed brought to mind how he’d been with her in that same bed earlier.

  Which is why he’d left the bed so quickly. No sane, naked man could sleep with an appealing, nude she-wolf and not want to do much more than just sleep.

  “Your family and mine have always been at odds with those of the Borthwick wolf pack,” Grant informed her. Didn’t she know anything about her family’s history?

  “Well, maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet,” she said, sounding like that would be an easy task.

  “Over my dead body,” Grant said.

  She frowned at Grant, as if she hadn’t expected him to be so vehemently opposed. “I’ll see him.”

  And with that, Colleen brushed her breasts—her heavenly, very appealing breasts covered in the softest sweater—against his naked chest as she squeezed by him and Darby. She left the study as Darby gave Grant a raised-brow look, as if inquiring what Grant intended to do about the out-of-control American she-wolf.

  Damned if Grant knew. He hadn’t won one battle with her yet. He and Darby quickly left the study to catch up to the lass.

  In the front entryway to the castle stood both Enrick and Lachlan, arms folded across their chests, not allowing Archibald Borthwick to go any farther. Normally, they would have taken a visitor to the sitting room to wait for an audience with Grant.

  As much as they all hated the man, they wouldn’t let him go anywhere until Grant said so. Unfortunately, the lass was the one who would have the final say this time.

  Wearing black dress pants and a pin-striped shirt, Archibald appeared to be on a date. Not to mention that his blond hair looked recently cut, and—Grant rubbed his own whiskery chin—he’d had a fresh shave. To Grant’s consternation, Archibald’s gray eyes focused first on Colleen, as if she was leading the pack. Archibald was careful not to look her over like a hungry wolf, or he would have gotten a fist in the jaw—Grant’s fist.

  The woman might be giving Grant a bountiful amount of grief, but she was his landlord and he would protect her at all costs from the avaricious advances of a wolf who was only interested in the properties she held. Even if she didn’t think she needed his protection.

  Archibald’s gaze shifted to take in Grant’s appearance, including the fact he wore nothing but his kilt, his face was unshaven, and his hair was a bit unkempt. Even his brothers smiled at Grant’s current disheveled look. They, on the other hand, were both dressed in jeans and sweaters, freshly shaved, and much more presentable. Damn it to hell.

  “May we speak in the gardens?” Archibald asked, smirking at Grant but then holding Colleen’s gaze, his smile brightening. “Alone?”

  Grant could not believe this. What was Borthwick up to? Not that he didn’t have a good idea. How did he know about her coming here so soon? The lass could not fall under the Highlander’s seductive charms.

  “Of course. If someone would point the way,” she said.

  “Darby will take you there.” Grant nearly choked on the words and then gave his faithful valet a nod.

  When the pompous Borthwick left with Colleen, Enrick said, “She is not what I expected.”

  “After speaking with Ian’s brother Duncan about his American mate and hearing what Ian has gone through with his, she is just what I thought she’d be like. Their brother Cearnach is too newly mated and wouldn’t reveal all the trouble he’s had with his mate. But I’m certain it was considerable if we can judge her based on the others.” Grant grunted. “What is Borthwick about?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Enrick said, looking cross. “He is intent on wooing the lass. Just think, if he succeeds and ends up mating her, what will happen then?”

  “I will kill him first,” Grant said.

  “Aye. But if you don’t, you can see how, as her mate, he could end up taking charge of the castle. What if he lived here and bega
n giving us orders?”

  “I would kill him,” Grant repeated.

  “Aye. But if you couldn’t, you know what he would be like. If he mated her, he’d install his own family in all the key positions. They could make life miserable for us. And we have no place else to call home,” Enrick said.

  “Aye,” Lachlan said. “Which means you have to win her over first. Don’t you see?”

  Grant wasn’t about to play some game with the lass. Not that he wasn’t interested in her in a purely physical way—how could any wolf not be? And he couldn’t help but admire her for her feistiness. But that wasn’t the role he was meant to play. She would return to America, sooner rather than later, and he had to get things back on their regular schedule.

  “Unless you want me to try my hand at it,” Lachlan offered in as sincere a way as possible, though Grant swore he heard a hint of humor in his brother’s tone of voice.

  He shook his head at his youngest brother and walked into the kitchen to see what was transpiring between the lass and Archibald before they disappeared into the gardens. His brothers joined him and they peered out the window. Colleen smiled sweetly and promptly dismissed Darby. He didn’t look happy and quickly glanced back at the keep as if checking whether Grant watched and approved. Grant did not approve, but the woman was not in need of a chaperone, as much as he wanted to ensure she had one with the likes of Archibald on the prowl.

  Darby stood at the entrance of the gardens, looking perplexed.

  A low mist cloaked the area in a film of white, and Colleen and Archibald laughed as they entered the gardens and disappeared from the brothers’ view.

  “You are suggesting I act in a romantic way toward the lass?” Grant had no intention of tricking the she-wolf into believing he was interested in her as a mate prospect. He certainly couldn’t do it for a year.

  “You’re not seeing anyone else at the moment, which would be your only obstacle. And I assume the lass is not with anyone, either. You might even find you like her,” Enrick said. “She’s good-natured as far as not getting upset about our charade yesterday. You don’t have to really mate her, just act attracted enough that she gives up the notion of being fascinated with anyone else.”