Hero of a Highland Wolf
Page 6
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His plan wouldn’t succeed. She loved observing them in battle. She wished Julia could be here, too. She knew her friend would take copious notes to use in writing her Highland werewolf romances.
Finally, Ian conceded. “We could fight all day, you and I, Grant MacQuarrie, my good friend. But I’m famished.”
“Aye, to the feast.” Grant glanced in Colleen’s direction as if he finally had time to acknowledge her as she stood there with her camcorder in hand. He also noticed his brothers standing on either side of her. His brows rose marginally to see them there. Although he was in charge, his brothers seemed to have other notions.
She finally turned off the camcorder, right after she got a nice smile from Ian and an equally captivating scowl from Grant, directed at his brothers. She was enjoying the brothers’ reactions.
Grant’s gold-flecked brown eyes squarely held her gaze. His wolfish expression was stern, typical of a pack leader, his light brown hair caught by the breeze.
Grant stalked toward her, joined by some other men who wore the same plaid, while Ian watched from a distance.
All pack leaders inherently had the wolf’s stare down to perfection—judging a newcomer’s threat and whether the new arrival was a beta or, even worse, an omega. He wouldn’t intimidate her as much as he might like as she met his gaze with a smile. She didn’t have any delusions that a smile would win him over. But she hoped she might befriend some of the betas in his pack. She counted on it.
“You must be Lady Colleen Playfair. We were in sparring practice—” Grant said, sounding very much in charge and as though he couldn’t be bothered rearranging his schedule to accommodate her arrival.
“She knows Ian’s wife,” Enrick said, cutting his brother’s comment short.
Grant looked from Enrick to Colleen, his expression surprised as his brows rose in questioning and his jaw dropped a little. She was having way too much fun, and it killed her to have to stifle a laugh.
He glanced at the camcorder in her hands and said, “You don’t plan to share that with the world, do you?”
She suspected his sudden change of subject had to do with being unsettled to learn that she’d known about all this beforehand. He sounded more like he was telling her than asking her. Of course, she wouldn’t share the video with the world. She’d need the men’s approval, and she was certain this wolf wouldn’t give it.
“Oh, I’d love to. I’m sure it will remain mostly mine for private viewing. But Julia”—Colleen waved at Ian—“wanted me to send her a copy of it. She’s a romance writer, you know. The video will be great for visuals to use in writing scenes for her next story.” And Colleen would most likely send her girlfriends back home some of the special shots of Grant.
Though she wouldn’t say whose hot buns they were, in case her girlfriends shared them with social media outlets. And she would only send shots of that special part of his anatomy so no one could actually identify him. What were girlfriends for, after all?
Ian then joined them and Grant said, “Lady Colleen Playfair, meet Ian MacNeill.”
Before he could finish formal introductions, she smiled brightly at Ian. “I’m one of Julia’s best friends. She has told me so much about you. You’re the hero in nearly all her books.” She shook Ian’s hand.
“Nearly all?” he asked, a glint of humor in his dark brown eyes, his mouth curving upward.
“Sure. Before you came into her life, she had to make up fantasy heroes,” Colleen said very seriously. She’d read some of Julia’s recent releases, and she could see a real difference in the look of her heroes.
“She…never mentioned you,” Ian said, sliding a half-guilty, half-amused look at Grant.
“Ah, why would she talk about me? I’m sure that once she arrived here, you occupied all of her thoughts,” Colleen said breezily.
“This way,” Grant said, motioning to her and Ian to join him in the keep. He did not look very happy.
Ian smiled at her as he displaced Enrick, while Grant took his brother Lachlan’s place beside her. Ian shot Grant a look that said whatever Grant had planned wouldn’t work on Colleen. He nodded in sympathy, as though he had faced the same issue with his wife as Grant now had to deal with—a headstrong American she-wolf.
Knowing Julia, Colleen could just imagine. She wondered what Grant had planned for her next. The feast, yes. Haggis? Blood pudding? She had acquired a taste for them already, preparing for her stay here. So he wouldn’t make any headway with getting rid of her in that way.
She was famished.
***
Grant couldn’t believe the she-wolf had known about the mock fight before she arrived. What else did she already know about? What else had Ian shared with his pretty wife that she, in turn, had shared with Colleen?
The White Room. Grant had mentioned that to Ian earlier in the week. Though no one but Grant’s people knew the significance of the chamber. He was glad he had not revealed more to Ian. But before today, Grant hadn’t told Ian about the feast they had planned.
Colleen’s dark brown hair curled over her shoulders, some of it whipping in his direction and tickling his shoulder, while her silky, sheer skirt slapped at his bare legs. He would have moved out of the fabric’s path, but he stayed in close proximity in an attempt to intimidate her. His skin was oily and sweaty, and he didn’t believe any prim and proper young woman would want to share the same space with him. She, on the other hand, smelled of a soft floral fragrance—jasmine, he thought—and all she-wolf. He had a devil of a time not breathing in her scent in a much-too-interested fashion. He just hoped she hadn’t noticed.
Finally, Ian conceded. “We could fight all day, you and I, Grant MacQuarrie, my good friend. But I’m famished.”
“Aye, to the feast.” Grant glanced in Colleen’s direction as if he finally had time to acknowledge her as she stood there with her camcorder in hand. He also noticed his brothers standing on either side of her. His brows rose marginally to see them there. Although he was in charge, his brothers seemed to have other notions.
She finally turned off the camcorder, right after she got a nice smile from Ian and an equally captivating scowl from Grant, directed at his brothers. She was enjoying the brothers’ reactions.
Grant’s gold-flecked brown eyes squarely held her gaze. His wolfish expression was stern, typical of a pack leader, his light brown hair caught by the breeze.
Grant stalked toward her, joined by some other men who wore the same plaid, while Ian watched from a distance.
All pack leaders inherently had the wolf’s stare down to perfection—judging a newcomer’s threat and whether the new arrival was a beta or, even worse, an omega. He wouldn’t intimidate her as much as he might like as she met his gaze with a smile. She didn’t have any delusions that a smile would win him over. But she hoped she might befriend some of the betas in his pack. She counted on it.
“You must be Lady Colleen Playfair. We were in sparring practice—” Grant said, sounding very much in charge and as though he couldn’t be bothered rearranging his schedule to accommodate her arrival.
“She knows Ian’s wife,” Enrick said, cutting his brother’s comment short.
Grant looked from Enrick to Colleen, his expression surprised as his brows rose in questioning and his jaw dropped a little. She was having way too much fun, and it killed her to have to stifle a laugh.
He glanced at the camcorder in her hands and said, “You don’t plan to share that with the world, do you?”
She suspected his sudden change of subject had to do with being unsettled to learn that she’d known about all this beforehand. He sounded more like he was telling her than asking her. Of course, she wouldn’t share the video with the world. She’d need the men’s approval, and she was certain this wolf wouldn’t give it.
“Oh, I’d love to. I’m sure it will remain mostly mine for private viewing. But Julia”—Colleen waved at Ian—“wanted me to send her a copy of it. She’s a romance writer, you know. The video will be great for visuals to use in writing scenes for her next story.” And Colleen would most likely send her girlfriends back home some of the special shots of Grant.
Though she wouldn’t say whose hot buns they were, in case her girlfriends shared them with social media outlets. And she would only send shots of that special part of his anatomy so no one could actually identify him. What were girlfriends for, after all?
Ian then joined them and Grant said, “Lady Colleen Playfair, meet Ian MacNeill.”
Before he could finish formal introductions, she smiled brightly at Ian. “I’m one of Julia’s best friends. She has told me so much about you. You’re the hero in nearly all her books.” She shook Ian’s hand.
“Nearly all?” he asked, a glint of humor in his dark brown eyes, his mouth curving upward.
“Sure. Before you came into her life, she had to make up fantasy heroes,” Colleen said very seriously. She’d read some of Julia’s recent releases, and she could see a real difference in the look of her heroes.
“She…never mentioned you,” Ian said, sliding a half-guilty, half-amused look at Grant.
“Ah, why would she talk about me? I’m sure that once she arrived here, you occupied all of her thoughts,” Colleen said breezily.
“This way,” Grant said, motioning to her and Ian to join him in the keep. He did not look very happy.
Ian smiled at her as he displaced Enrick, while Grant took his brother Lachlan’s place beside her. Ian shot Grant a look that said whatever Grant had planned wouldn’t work on Colleen. He nodded in sympathy, as though he had faced the same issue with his wife as Grant now had to deal with—a headstrong American she-wolf.
Knowing Julia, Colleen could just imagine. She wondered what Grant had planned for her next. The feast, yes. Haggis? Blood pudding? She had acquired a taste for them already, preparing for her stay here. So he wouldn’t make any headway with getting rid of her in that way.
She was famished.
***
Grant couldn’t believe the she-wolf had known about the mock fight before she arrived. What else did she already know about? What else had Ian shared with his pretty wife that she, in turn, had shared with Colleen?
The White Room. Grant had mentioned that to Ian earlier in the week. Though no one but Grant’s people knew the significance of the chamber. He was glad he had not revealed more to Ian. But before today, Grant hadn’t told Ian about the feast they had planned.
Colleen’s dark brown hair curled over her shoulders, some of it whipping in his direction and tickling his shoulder, while her silky, sheer skirt slapped at his bare legs. He would have moved out of the fabric’s path, but he stayed in close proximity in an attempt to intimidate her. His skin was oily and sweaty, and he didn’t believe any prim and proper young woman would want to share the same space with him. She, on the other hand, smelled of a soft floral fragrance—jasmine, he thought—and all she-wolf. He had a devil of a time not breathing in her scent in a much-too-interested fashion. He just hoped she hadn’t noticed.
