A Highland Werewolf Wedding (13 page)

“I can be the bad guy and you’re her savior.”

Cearnach shook his head. “I think she sees herself in that role.”

His mother chuckled with wry amusement. “Aye, then she can be yours instead.”

He shouldn’t have allowed his mother to speak with Elaine first. “Is that all you
wish of me, my mother?”

“Aye, go sweet-talk the lady. I’ll speak with you later.”

Shaking his head, he stalked out of the library and down the hall, wondering just
what his mother had said to Elaine during their exchange. He hoped Elaine wasn’t too
upset over the whole affair.

Left to their own devices, he figured he and she could work out their relationship
just fine. But he had to keep his mother
out
of it at all costs.

Now it was time to repair the damage.

Cearnach’s talk with his mother filled Elaine’s thoughts—though she was trying not
to think about it—as she walked with Shelley through the great hall where cushioned
chairs, sofas, and pillow-covered benches were situated in front of a large fireplace.
Flames flickered, casting light against the shadows, the wood crackling and snapping.
Elaine felt oddly at home here. She could see the clan gathering here for special
activities, particularly when the weather was wet or cold.

Yet her thoughts instantly returned to what was being said between Cearnach and his
mother. Did she always rule the roost? More importantly, what she was saying to Cearnach
about Elaine now?

As Shelley led her into the kitchen, Elaine was impressed with the newness and size,
having expected it to be less than modern and much smaller. But it had to feed a fairly
large wolf pack—around thirty or more, she estimated. She wasn’t used to thinking
in terms of pack life.

To her surprise, the need to belong to a wolf pack like this one crept into the marrow
of her bones. To be understood by others of her kind. To be protected and to protect.

A long honey-oak table was situated next to a wide window overlooking the gardens
below, a hedge surrounding them. It made her think of a labyrinth where she could
get lost with Cearnach, just strolling and talking like two people on a special date,
as small brass lanterns illuminated the paths, a touch of warm yellow light on a dark
gray night. The tall hedges hid most of the gardens from view, giving only glimpses
into the sectioned-off, outdoor living rooms, making them seem mysterious and intriguing.

The table in the kitchen seated about twelve. Pack members could drop in for a quick
meal between working various jobs at the castle and beyond, she assumed. She’d passed
through a formal dining room on the way into the kitchen where a dark mahogany table
and chairs took center stage. The table would seat around twenty people, and the high-back
chairs wore forest-green brocade with braid trim edging the seats. Paintings of local
scenery were displayed on the walls, showing snowcapped mountains, dark blue lochs,
fields of purple heather and yellow gorse, and the dark green forest.

In the kitchen, racks held glistening stainless-steel serving ladles and pots and
pans that hung over a large, freestanding island. All the counters were golden granite
flecked with black. Three stainless-steel fridges, two dishwashers, and three ovens
filled the kitchen, plus a microwave built into the cabinets on one wall. Elaine couldn’t
begin to imagine the chaos that must ensue when everyone came in to eat. Unless the
pack ate their meals in shifts.

She’d never considered what it would be like for a working pack to live together on
an estate like this. The teasing, the camaraderie, the sharing of stories and jokes
and good humor. Used to eating her meals alone in front of a TV screen after work,
she thought how nice it would be to actually enjoy wolf company instead.

Shelley poked around in one of the fridges. “I have to admit I never make meals here.
When I was back home, I cooked some, but lots of times I just microwaved meals. Here
they have a woman who cooks for the pack. When I met Duncan on Grand Cayman Island,
he was our chef extraordinaire.

“It’s an ongoing joke. Ian’s brothers say they can’t cook, except maybe to make a
pizza if Cook isn’t around. But I caught them all making ham-and-cheese omelets and
mimosas one morning when I slept in late and they had missed the morning meal, too.
Which meant Cook wasn’t going to fix them breakfast. It also meant that not only can
Duncan cook, but so can his older brothers.”

Amused that the brothers played such a game on their pack leader, Elaine smiled. “Do
you think Ian really knows the truth?”

“Probably. He seems to know
everything
that goes on in the castle.”

A pretty brunette hurried into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed, her dark eyes wide.
She appeared to be about Shelley and Elaine’s age and smelled of the outdoors, rain,
and wind. “Oh, I can’t believe it. I take one night off to visit a girlfriend, and
our whole pack is ready to go to war with another pack.”

She smiled brightly at Elaine as if that was a good thing, that she knew who had started
it, and she wholeheartedly approved. Then she turned her attention to Shelley. “What
are you doing? You don’t cook.”

“Attempting to figure out what Cearnach and Elaine can eat for dinner. I was thinking
of making them sandwiches and a salad.”

“I’ll do it. I’m Heather MacNeill, Cearnach’s cousin,” she said, offering her hand
to Elaine. She smiled broadly again.

Elaine shook her hand and smiled back. She really hadn’t expected everyone to be so
friendly, all but Cearnach’s mother and aunt. They were Old-World Highland nobility
and probably thought Elaine was some uncultured, uncouth American nobody.

Well, kin to pirates. That was worse. Particularly because Elaine’s kin had stolen
from Cearnach’s kin. Not to mention being old-time enemies.

“You will have to fill me in on all the details of what’s going on.” Heather peered
into the fridge as Shelley stepped aside and let her take over. Heather glanced over
her shoulder at Elaine. “Where’s Cearnach? My brother, Oran, said that Cearnach was
glued to you.”

“His mother is talking to him,” Elaine said, not at all happy about it.

Heather lifted her chin a bit, then frowned. “Oh.”

Elaine thought that one little word said it all. The talk wouldn’t go well. “I’m not
all that hungry.” Too many butterflies were flitting about in her stomach. After the
long flight and running with Cearnach to get here as wolves, she was ready to collapse
and
try
to sleep. Though everything was so unsettled that she wasn’t sure she could.

“
I
am hungry,” Cearnach said, stalking into the kitchen like a ray of sunshine on a
gloomy day. He instantly gave Elaine an appreciative smile and wrapped his arm around
her shoulders as if saying, “Mine.”

For the first time since they had arrived at Argent, she really noticed what he was
wearing—a pair of well-worn jeans, the fabric soft and faded, and a lamb’s wool sweater
just as soft, with grays and browns woven into ancient patterns. Hiking boots finished
the ensemble. He looked like he was ready for the great outdoors. The sweater made
her take a second look. She wanted to run her hands over it, under it, feel his muscles
bunching like when he’d worn no shirt at all.

Heather straightened and looked at him. “What would you like to eat?”

“Anything that’s easy to make,” Cearnach said.

Elaine couldn’t believe how considerate he was. Most men she knew would ask for the
world if someone else was doing the cooking.

“What about some of the stew Cook made? I didn’t get a bite of it either, but it smells
delicious.” Then Heather frowned as she shoved things around in the fridge. “There
don’t appear to be any leftovers.” She started pulling packages of food out of the
fridge. “I can make up a fresh batch.”

“Are you sure it won’t be too much trouble?” Elaine asked.

Heather waved a hand of dismissal. “No. I love to cook. I heard you’re an American
and you ran Cearnach off the road, which is how you met so fortuitously.”

Cearnach shook his head as if he couldn’t believe meeting like that would become the
topic of conversation, but at least he was smiling.

“He was driving too fast for a one-lane road,” Elaine said, one brow raised as she
crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

Heather grinned at her and pulled out a peeler, then began removing the skin from
a potato. “I like her. Don’t chase her off.”

Cearnach grabbed a bag of carrots and celery.

“Here, let me do that.” Shelley extracted a knife from the drawer and took the vegetables
from him. “You wouldn’t want Ian to know you can cook. Not after you and your brothers
have guarded the secret for so long.”

“I can manage,” Cearnach said.

Elaine wondered why he was so intent on offering when the ladies treated him as though
he was just in the way.

Heather grinned at him, and Elaine assumed she knew him so well that she had figured
out what his game was. “Go, Cearnach. You can show off to the lady some other time.
Take Elaine to the garden room. Someone’s started a fire in the fire pit so it should
be nice and toasty warm. Talk with her. Take her for a stroll in the gardens. The
rain has stopped. I’ll have something palatable ready in half an hour or so.”

A strange look crossed Cearnach’s face, one of questioning, Elaine thought. She’d
gotten the impression he had planned to take care of this in his own way, and now
his cousin had thrown him totally off stride. Had he really intended to show her he
could cook? How utterly sweet of him.

She’d never known a man who could switch plans so quickly and not be a little rattled,
though. His cousin just smiled, feigning innocence, but the look appeared more calculating
than angelic to Elaine.

A setup. That’s what Elaine felt was going on here. A means to move a romantic relationship
forward at a jackrabbit’s pace instead of a snail’s. She got the impression that Cearnach
didn’t often show interest in a she-wolf around his clan members, and Heather was
pushing for something to happen.

“Do you want to take a walk in the gardens, lass?” Cearnach asked, finally taking
his cousin’s cue as he motioned gallantly to the door with a gracious sweeping gesture.

“I’d love to. Thank you, Heather and Shelley, for preparing a meal for us.” Even if
Elaine didn’t think she could eat any of it, she appreciated their kindness.

“You’re so very welcome. It’s not every day we have such an uproar in the pack.” Heather
waved a hand at the coats hanging on a rack. “The yellow one is mine. Feel free to
use it.”

“Thanks,” Elaine said, and Cearnach quickly helped her into it.

Cearnach threw on a black rain jacket and escorted Elaine out the kitchen door. He
wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kept her close, as if they were lovers already,
as he guided her along a brick walkway, down steps, through a four-foot-wide living
boxwood arch, and into the gardens.

“The steps are mossy and wet and slippery,” he explained, as if that was the real
reason he was holding her close.

She slipped once and he tightened his hold on her in response, so she had to agree
he was right.

She loved the intimacy between them, the closeness, the warmth of his body pressed
against hers. She loved getting away from the castle, his kin, and the overwhelming
feeling that everyone wanted to know more about her when she had always been a very
private person… and wolf. Still, she wanted to learn what his mother had said to him.
Not that she meant to defend herself. In truth, she wanted to know how difficult it
would be for her to stay here until she got her car and personal items back.

Leaving him was another story. For the first time ever, she really cared about someone.
The spark between them was so intense that she wanted to explore further possibilities.
How could she when their families were so at odds?

She took a deep breath. “Your mother…”

“Later,” he said.

The news couldn’t be good.

She tried to concentrate on the gardens, the way the small brass lanterns lighted
all the paths, the water glistening on the smooth stones. Yew hedges rose high around
the gardens, as massive as stone walls, only bright green and living.

He held her tightly against his side, heating her all the way to her core. Her nose
was cold and so were her toes, but the rest of her was heating up just fine.

Hedges sectioned off the various gardens, and she could hear the pleasing sound of
water as it spilled over stone fountains into lower basins or into small pools of
water. The fountains were visible through vine-covered, wrought-iron trellises or
hedges trimmed into living archways. A misty fog draped the area as Cearnach moved
her from one garden section of herbs to another with flowers, past a garden with a
waterfall, a glass greenhouse, and separate garden rooms for every interest.

She smiled when she saw the building made of glass walls with corner stone towers
that mimicked the castle and its towers situated on four corners of the curtain wall.
A roof made of skylights showed off the stormy gray night, and the warm, orange flames
of the fire beckoned them inside.

She peered through one of the windows as he opened the door. Soft moss-green couches
wrapped around the fire pit, connected in a gently curving fashion like a stream winding
through woods. Brocade pillows generously embroidered in gold thread with Celtic designs
covered the couches, while pots of plants hung from the rafters or sat high above
on small shelves beneath the massive windows.

Cearnach escorted her inside where the warmth encircled her, then closed the door
and locked it. She raised her brows. He smiled and pressed a few buttons on a panel.
Shades began to slide down over the windows.

Her mouth dropped open as she watched the room, which had been bared to the gardens,
suddenly become private.

“We can have real privacy here or in my bedchamber.” Cearnach offered to take her
coat.

Somehow, she didn’t think either place would be safe.

He helped pull off her coat, then draped it on a coatrack that looked like a wrought-iron,
leafless tree.

“We need to talk,” he said with all seriousness, yet his eyes held dark interest,
not at all what she would expect if he was going to tell her she needed to leave Argent
Castle at the earliest possible moment.

She tried not to stiffen too much as he removed his coat, hung it up, and led her
to one of the couches. He sat down with her but not too close, as if he needed to
keep his distance.

She sank into the soft cushions, saw a bottle of wine and two glasses set next to
it, and thought of the way Heather had been so flushed when she had hurried into the
kitchen.