Hero of a Highland Wolf
Page 5
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“I am.” She wished he’d go away because now she had to divide her concentration between Grant and Ian and the man standing next to her. Even if the men had meant the training as a ruse, the two pack leaders seemed to have something to prove to their respective clans—if not to her.
“That’s my brother, Grant MacQuarrie. And the one he’s fighting is Ian MacNeill,” the Highlander said.
“Nice,” she said, not quite ready to reveal that she knew who the two men were.
“I’m Lachlan, Grant’s younger triplet brother. Glad to make your acquaintance.” His voice hinted at kindliness.
“Thanks. Nice to meet you.” She wondered then if Grant would be the only source of trouble here or if his brother sought to feign friendship, slip under her armor, and work on a way to get rid of her in a different manner. She didn’t trust him.
Arms folded across his muscled chest, Lachlan stood way too close to her.
“Did you get tired of fighting?” she asked with a hint of a smile.
“I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
She wanted to groan out loud at the cliché, but she managed a small smile instead. She imagined he loved to fight as much as any of the other Highlanders in the bailey today.
“You don’t want to film any others sparring?” Lachlan asked, sounding curious.
“I promised Ian’s wife, Julia, that I would film Ian if I could and email the recording to her later.”
Lachlan drew in an audible breath, and she couldn’t tell whether he was amused or worried. “You know Ian’s wife?”
She loved his reaction but hesitated to tell him the truth, still not sure if she should let the proverbial cat out of the bag…yet. Then she decided she would so she could see what happened when he told his brother Grant. “Yep. Good friends for years. I never expected her to end up living in Scotland, mated to Ian like that. When she learned I was coming here, she immediately contacted me. We intend to get together as soon as we can.”
“You know Julia MacNeill,” Lachlan said under his breath as if the truth was sinking in.
Did she ever. Girls’ all-night slumber parties—and she was game to have one with Julia and her new sisters-in-law and mother-in-law as soon as she could—cooking parties where they baked only the most decadent chocolate concoctions, movie night… You name it, they had a night for it. She fought the urge to laugh evilly.
“Did Julia happen to tell you her husband was coming here to spar with Grant and my kin today?”
“Yep.”
Lachlan burst out laughing. She smiled then. She couldn’t help herself. No way could Grant pull the black-faced Highland sheep’s wool over her wolf eyes.
Another man lowered his sword and glanced at Colleen and Lachlan. He motioned to his opponent that he was done, bowing his head slightly, and moved in Colleen’s direction. “I’m Enrick MacQuarrie, Grant’s middle brother, and you must be…?”
“Colleen,” she said, annoyed at the pretense, as if he wasn’t sure who she was. She was certain they didn’t let just anyone onto the castle grounds. “I’m enjoying the fighting. What a delightful…” She caught her breath as the wind swept Grant’s kilt upward again and she got another toned-butt view. Snap, snap. She took some hot shots that time. Omigod, if only she had such a gorgeous gluteus maximus. “Beautiful…show,” she finished. She was certain she wasn’t playing the game the way they had intended.
“She’s good friends with Julia MacNeill, Ian’s wife,” Lachlan said, as if Enrick wouldn’t know who he was talking about.
“Julia MacNeill,” Enrick said.
She wanted to laugh, but she managed to keep her mirth under control. The brothers’ surprise at learning of her connection to Julia was just too rich.
“Julia knew about the sparring,” Enrick continued, not asking a question.
“Aye,” Lachlan said.
“She told you?” Enrick asked Colleen, still sounding surprised that no one had fooled her. Maybe they even wondered what else she might be aware of.
Like…they planned to put her in the White Room. She didn’t know what that was all about—nor did Julia, because even Ian didn’t know—but Colleen suspected some murderous ghost lived there. Julia had told her about Ian’s ghostly cousin, Flynn, and how he caused mischief for some of the lasses at Argent Castle.
So what kind of a ghost lived in the White Room? A scary one to help change her mind about staying, she assumed. It wouldn’t work on her. She didn’t believe in ghosts.
“Yes. We’re the best of friends,” Colleen said.
If she demanded that Grant give her another room, she suspected he would tell her no others were available. If they thought she was a pushover, they had another think coming.
Chapter 3
Enrick didn’t laugh like Lachlan had done when Colleen mentioned she knew Julia. He seemed a lot more serious as he watched Grant and Ian slow down, looking as though they were beginning to grow weary. She wondered how long they’d continue with the ruse. She was tired of filming them, but she would keep shooting them as long as they continued to fight.
Many of the men had quit sparring and now watched the two pack leaders in their bid for dominance.
She loved it. In her world, men just didn’t do that. Maybe a couple of men battled it out in a show at clan gatherings or Renaissance fairs. But not gathered about in an ancient castle’s bailey, or with everyone wearing kilts, bare chested, and beautifully greased down—and with all of them also part of a wolf pack. She noticed then that no women were about. None watching. Not even from the ramparts and out of harm’s way. Was this usual? Or did Grant think having only braw males in attendance would intimidate her further?
“That’s my brother, Grant MacQuarrie. And the one he’s fighting is Ian MacNeill,” the Highlander said.
“Nice,” she said, not quite ready to reveal that she knew who the two men were.
“I’m Lachlan, Grant’s younger triplet brother. Glad to make your acquaintance.” His voice hinted at kindliness.
“Thanks. Nice to meet you.” She wondered then if Grant would be the only source of trouble here or if his brother sought to feign friendship, slip under her armor, and work on a way to get rid of her in a different manner. She didn’t trust him.
Arms folded across his muscled chest, Lachlan stood way too close to her.
“Did you get tired of fighting?” she asked with a hint of a smile.
“I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
She wanted to groan out loud at the cliché, but she managed a small smile instead. She imagined he loved to fight as much as any of the other Highlanders in the bailey today.
“You don’t want to film any others sparring?” Lachlan asked, sounding curious.
“I promised Ian’s wife, Julia, that I would film Ian if I could and email the recording to her later.”
Lachlan drew in an audible breath, and she couldn’t tell whether he was amused or worried. “You know Ian’s wife?”
She loved his reaction but hesitated to tell him the truth, still not sure if she should let the proverbial cat out of the bag…yet. Then she decided she would so she could see what happened when he told his brother Grant. “Yep. Good friends for years. I never expected her to end up living in Scotland, mated to Ian like that. When she learned I was coming here, she immediately contacted me. We intend to get together as soon as we can.”
“You know Julia MacNeill,” Lachlan said under his breath as if the truth was sinking in.
Did she ever. Girls’ all-night slumber parties—and she was game to have one with Julia and her new sisters-in-law and mother-in-law as soon as she could—cooking parties where they baked only the most decadent chocolate concoctions, movie night… You name it, they had a night for it. She fought the urge to laugh evilly.
“Did Julia happen to tell you her husband was coming here to spar with Grant and my kin today?”
“Yep.”
Lachlan burst out laughing. She smiled then. She couldn’t help herself. No way could Grant pull the black-faced Highland sheep’s wool over her wolf eyes.
Another man lowered his sword and glanced at Colleen and Lachlan. He motioned to his opponent that he was done, bowing his head slightly, and moved in Colleen’s direction. “I’m Enrick MacQuarrie, Grant’s middle brother, and you must be…?”
“Colleen,” she said, annoyed at the pretense, as if he wasn’t sure who she was. She was certain they didn’t let just anyone onto the castle grounds. “I’m enjoying the fighting. What a delightful…” She caught her breath as the wind swept Grant’s kilt upward again and she got another toned-butt view. Snap, snap. She took some hot shots that time. Omigod, if only she had such a gorgeous gluteus maximus. “Beautiful…show,” she finished. She was certain she wasn’t playing the game the way they had intended.
“She’s good friends with Julia MacNeill, Ian’s wife,” Lachlan said, as if Enrick wouldn’t know who he was talking about.
“Julia MacNeill,” Enrick said.
She wanted to laugh, but she managed to keep her mirth under control. The brothers’ surprise at learning of her connection to Julia was just too rich.
“Julia knew about the sparring,” Enrick continued, not asking a question.
“Aye,” Lachlan said.
“She told you?” Enrick asked Colleen, still sounding surprised that no one had fooled her. Maybe they even wondered what else she might be aware of.
Like…they planned to put her in the White Room. She didn’t know what that was all about—nor did Julia, because even Ian didn’t know—but Colleen suspected some murderous ghost lived there. Julia had told her about Ian’s ghostly cousin, Flynn, and how he caused mischief for some of the lasses at Argent Castle.
So what kind of a ghost lived in the White Room? A scary one to help change her mind about staying, she assumed. It wouldn’t work on her. She didn’t believe in ghosts.
“Yes. We’re the best of friends,” Colleen said.
If she demanded that Grant give her another room, she suspected he would tell her no others were available. If they thought she was a pushover, they had another think coming.
Chapter 3
Enrick didn’t laugh like Lachlan had done when Colleen mentioned she knew Julia. He seemed a lot more serious as he watched Grant and Ian slow down, looking as though they were beginning to grow weary. She wondered how long they’d continue with the ruse. She was tired of filming them, but she would keep shooting them as long as they continued to fight.
Many of the men had quit sparring and now watched the two pack leaders in their bid for dominance.
She loved it. In her world, men just didn’t do that. Maybe a couple of men battled it out in a show at clan gatherings or Renaissance fairs. But not gathered about in an ancient castle’s bailey, or with everyone wearing kilts, bare chested, and beautifully greased down—and with all of them also part of a wolf pack. She noticed then that no women were about. None watching. Not even from the ramparts and out of harm’s way. Was this usual? Or did Grant think having only braw males in attendance would intimidate her further?
