Hero of a Highland Wolf (6 page)

“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!

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 began 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.”

“It's either that or Borthwick attempts to make some inroads with her, and if he does, we're in trouble. By the way, what will you do about the sleeping arrangements?” Lachlan asked. “I understand she was in your bed already. Sounds like a start to me.”

Grant figured he might as well be up front with his brothers. They'd know what went on soon enough. “She has decided she wants to stay in the lady's chamber.”

The brothers first looked a little surprised, then both grinned at him.

In absolute exasperation, Grant let out his breath. “She wants
me
to sleep elsewhere.”

Neither of his brothers said anything as that bit of information sank in, and then they had the audacity to laugh!

When they saw Grant's deadly serious expression, Enrick said, “Seriously? I thought you were sharing the chambers with the lass.” He shook his head. “All the more reason to get in her good graces. Where will you sleep? Surely you don't mean to oust anyone out of their own rooms.”

“I don't. I'd never do that to any of our people.”

“I suspect someone might offer for you to take his chamber,” Lachlan said.

“And have to sleep in the White Room instead?” Grant shook his head.

The brothers laughed again.

“You won't sleep in the White Room, will you?” Lachlan asked.

“Until the spare connecting chambers on the third floor are painted, I will,” Grant said.

How could his plans have been so disrupted by one little American lass, when he thought he had this well under control?

Colleen suspected Grant wouldn't like it if she made the effort to be nice to Archibald Borthwick, since he was also an alpha wolf. She didn't know the man, but he had been so pleasant to her. That was so different from the way Grant was treating her that she intended to keep seeing Archibald—as a friend. He had even offered to take her on several tours of Scotland. And she thought she'd take him up on it, once she was more settled.

She'd thought at first that Grant and his people were humans, so naturally she'd loved it when Archibald realized she was a wolf and wished to make her acquaintance, not bothered at all by the fact she was an American. Because of the natural inclination to meet another of their kind, and the fact that fewer she-wolves existed in wolf packs, she could understand his interest when he learned she was free and available.

After she had discovered what Grant and his pack intended to do to persuade her to leave sooner than the time she was required to be here, she figured what the heck. Maybe Archibald would make Grant change his mind, and he and his men would be more civil toward her while she stayed here for the rest of the year.

She hadn't expected Archibald to jump quite so quickly at the chance to get to know her better. She should have realized it. He probably was afraid Grant or his brothers might try to sweep her off her feet first. As if that would ever happen. But Archibald was interested in moving this along a little bit faster than she wanted. For one thing, she hadn't intended to stay in Scotland.

“We could go boating,” Archibald finally said.

“I'd love to. Later,” she said. She really was tired after the long flight here and then all that had gone on during the night that kept her from sleeping much of it. She'd prefer to take him up on his offer once she'd rested up a bit more and could really enjoy seeing the sights. She sighed. She had never expected that Grant and his people would know Archibald and dislike him so much. Why did people hold such grudges? She didn't. As far as she was concerned, she didn't know him and she would treat him like a friend, just like he treated her. She definitely had no plans to mate the wolf.

“I understand. Jet lag. You're probably tired still.”

“Yeah. Give me a week and I'll be ready to see some sights.” Really, a couple of days would have been enough, but she hated to leave things so unsettled here, almost afraid if she left the castle, she would lose what little control she felt she'd gained.

She glanced back at the castle and swore she saw Grant and his brothers watching her through one of the windows. Then she noticed movement on top of the wall walk. Two men were observing her. Was it a case of curiosity? Or concern for her or that she might fall for the wolf and put them all out of business?

It was misty and damp out. She could barely see to the end of the herb garden and only glimpses of the gardens beyond through arbor-covered gateways.

She wished she could tell Grant that she had no intention of changing the management. His pack had been managing the estate for eons, and she expected it to stay the same for eons more. But she thought this might keep him on his toes. As for Archibald, she'd be as friendly as he was, but if he thought she wanted more, she'd let him know in a heartbeat that she wasn't interested. Then again, maybe she would be. Only time would tell. But she wasn't jumping into anything right away. She had a whole year to live here first.

She understood Grant's concern that she'd come to make a lot of changes he couldn't live with. A last-ditch effort would be to have her cousins come stay with her and be her backup if this didn't work out. They were both ready to join her anytime.

“So tell me all about your life in America,” Archibald said.

She smiled at him, liking how he would ask, unlike Grant who only wished she'd return there. She started talking about her home in Maryland, about the Inner Harbor in Baltimore and trips to Annapolis. She loved the water.

“I love the water, too. My manor house has a nice-sized lake for a view.”

“I bet it's lovely.” She loved the ruggedness of being on the ocean, though. The tumultuous sea, the ever-changing view, the force and power of it. She loved lakes, but they usually just—sat there.

“Did your friend ever arrive at the airport?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. But his flight was delayed by four hours. You and I could have had something to eat.” He smiled.

He had such a charming smile compared to Grant's scowls. “Oh, I
couldn't
have. Grant and his people were eager to show off their fighting skills and celebrated my arrival with a grand feast right afterward. It was the experience of a lifetime.”

“Grant did?” Archibald said, frowning.

Yeah, but not in exactly the way she had made it sound—as if he'd done so to welcome her. But she didn't want to let anyone outside the pack know that Grant was trying his darnedest to change her mind about staying here. She smiled. It was like a secret pact between them. Grant would act all growly and stubborn, and she'd smile back and have her own way.

“Oh, yes. They were delighted to have me here and couldn't have done anything further to make me feel more welcome.” Could Archibald tell what a phony she was? She could understand Grant's concerns and figured this was the only way he knew how to deal with his frustrations.

They continued to stroll through the herb garden, while Archibald remained quiet.

She didn't know enough about the area to ask any questions, and walking in the damp cold without a coat was chilling her to the bone. She was certain she'd acclimate to the varying temperatures and weather conditions eventually, but she was having a difficult time enjoying this. She sighed.

Well, if he couldn't come up with another topic, she might as well ask him about Grant. “I take it that you and Grant know each other fairly well?” She couldn't imagine that Grant only saw Archibald as an alpha male wolf who was trespassing on his pack's territory. It had to be something that went deeper.

Archibald smiled this time, but the look was not pleasant.

“Not what you would call friends?” Certainly not from Grant's perspective.

Archibald shrugged. “I don't really feel comfortable here, speaking with you. The gardens have ears.”

She raised her brows, then glanced around and noticed a gardener studying the roses. A teen who had been watching them from another garden turned red-faced and quickly looked away. Were Grant's people spying on her and Archibald? She wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused.

“I would love to take you to a village and offer you breakfast, and we could really visit,” Archibald said, sounding hopeful.

“I'd love to. Later,” she said, feeling she was too tired to be the best of company. Even now she wished to put on a cheery face, but she couldn't conjure up the warmth to back her smile. She was still thinking about dealing with Grant and what would be next as she butted heads with the man.

Footsteps headed in their direction, and she turned to see who approached. They'd only been walking in the chilly fog for about ten minutes, which in itself seemed ridiculous. Then again, the Highlanders were probably used to the weather. If she was back home, she would have found something else to do with her time. She was getting damp and chilled, and she hoped whoever approached would get her out of this predicament in a way that wouldn't hurt Archibald's feelings.

Grant's man, Darby, hurried to catch up to her and said with urgency, “My Lady, Laird MacQuarrie says the morning meal is ready, if you'd like to join us.”

Hearing her referred to this time with a title, she was taken aback. So politely now, instead of the way he had taken her to task in Grant's chamber. She wasn't used to being referred to as “lady.” In America, she didn't use any title. She was just Colleen, as far as she was concerned. In Scotland, it was different. Maybe using her title would ensure that some of the wolves in Grant's pack treated her with more respect. Though she didn't think she'd ever get used to being referred to in that manner.

She hesitated to speak. The preparation of breakfast seemed to have occurred awfully fast. Why didn't Grant say they were getting ready to eat as a reason she shouldn't take a walk with Archibald? She suspected they'd thrown breakfast together in a hurry in an attempt to whisk her away from him.

Was Grant trying to make amends with her, then? She doubted it.

A light breakfast might settle her stomach, but she didn't think inviting Archibald to eat with them would help. She could imagine the tension escalating in the dining hall. Darby's interruption was just what she needed. She didn't even mind knowing Grant was attempting to get her away from Archibald.

At least for this morning, the way she was feeling, she much preferred Grant's disheveled, kilted appearance to Archibald's polished look, because she was feeling a little disheveled herself. Not in appearance, but psychologically. And, at least while conversing with Grant, she felt she knew the ground rules, somewhat. Annoyed, gruff, angry—all of it was fine with her as long as she knew where he was coming from. With Archibald, it was more of a courtship game, she thought. And she really wasn't ready for it until she was settled and refreshed and could act more like her normally enthusiastic self.

“Thanks, Darby. I'll be right there.” To Archibald, she said, “Maybe we can do this again sometime later. After I'm more settled at Farraige Castle.”

Archibald's deeply knit brow softened a bit. “Of course. Would tonight be too soon?”

“Later” meant later. Much later. “How about at the end of the week? I can get in touch with you. I have your number.”

His brow tightened again. “I will call on you then.”

She got the distinct impression that he wasn't waiting for her to call him. Maybe believing she wouldn't. Or that Grant wouldn't allow her to. She wondered if she'd bitten off more than she should. Yet, at the time, she had thought it was a brilliant idea.

So much for her brilliant ideas.

She walked with him back to the castle as Darby followed in their wake, not stealthily like a wolf, but noisily like he wanted them to know that he was listening in on their conversation. He would probably report everything that was said back to Grant. Not that anything much was said.

“I will call,” Archibald said again, his gaze steady on hers, ensuring he was getting his point across—that Grant wouldn't stop him from seeing her.

She totally agreed with Archibald there. And then he left her at the back door and took off around the side of the castle to the front where his vehicle was parked.

Darby pulled the door open for her, his expression somber. She wanted to talk with him, with anyone, about how she felt, but she seemed to be the enemy in this situation. Shouldn't “don't bite the hand that feeds you” come into play here?

This time when Darby escorted her to the main dining hall, mahogany tables were set up. Instead of benches, they had olive-green and gold embroidered chairs with cushioned seat backs. Plates and silverware were set out, too. Much, much better. Really nice, in fact.

She smiled at Grant, who was scowling but attempting to moderate his expression a bit.

She fought chuckling. Something appealed to her about that great, growly Scot. Maybe it was because she wasn't used to men like him. Her first two mates had been even-tempered betas. She'd loved them, but they had been predictable, and when she had lost them many years ago, she didn't think she'd ever take a mate again. Not that Grant was a mate prospect, but she did wonder how being mated to a wolf like him would measure up. She couldn't even imagine.

She took in a deep breath, recalling the smell of him in his bed.

He was one hot Highland wolf.

That she had taken a walk with the “enemy” in the gardens had probably killed Grant. He'd shaved, in a rush it appeared, having nicked himself in a couple of spots. He would heal quickly because of their wolf genetics. But the bloodied spots made him seem so much more human and lovable. He wore jeans and a T-shirt. She missed seeing him bare-chested while he wore only his kilt.

“We have an assortment of items for breakfast. Sausage, pancakes, bacon, toast, jams, eggs anyway that you like them, porridge. Tea. Or…coffee,” Grant said, walking with her to their new seats.

Same location. No roasted whole pig to eyeball while eating the meal.

“Thanks,” she said, meaning it. She appreciated how he had changed to accommodate her. The walk with Archibald had been well worth the effort.

As soon as they took their seats, Colleen asked for some toast, a little grape jelly, one egg over easy, and sausage. Grant looked surprised when she asked for tea.

“I always drink it. Never acquired a taste for coffee,” she said.

Grant nodded, but then he got right down to business. “What did Borthwick want?”

She figured he would ask and was surprised he'd waited this long. “He wished to welcome me here to Scotland.” She hoped that Grant would realize that was a barb at him for not welcoming her properly to her own estates.

In ye old days, if she had been the owner of a castle and returned to it, the estate manager would have been careful to welcome her home in a proper manner. Grant would learn soon enough that she wasn't leaving.

“Oh, and by the way,” she said, wanting to let him know just what she had in mind to do if he had any notion to give her further trouble, “my cousins may come to stay also. Just wished to give you a heads-up in case I feel I need their help.”

“Help with what?” Grant quickly asked, his tone of voice close to a growl.

She smiled. “We're…close. They're like brothers to me. They just said they'd be on standby if I needed their help with anything.”
You
, she wanted to say. But she kept her mouth shut and just smiled again—a wolf's smile, indicating neither he nor anyone else would push her around.