A Highland Werewolf Wedding (23 page)

She took a deep breath and Cearnach bowed his head slightly to her, acknowledging
that he was in agreement, knowing what she was about to say and wanting her to know
he was behind her on this. “I’m mated to Cearnach now. So we’ll need to make the deeds
out in his name also.”

Ian let out his breath. “Hell, Cearnach.”

Everyone looked at Ian.

He shook his head and folded his arms, but didn’t say anything more. Cearnach knew
he’d hear an earful as soon as he was alone with his brother. He should have told
his brother that he and Elaine were mated before anyone else—particularly someone
not of their pack.

Frowning deeply, the solicitor cleared his throat. “Do your kin know about this?”

“The Kilpatricks and McKinleys?” Elaine shook her head. “No one else officially knows
here, either. I don’t plan to tell my kin. It’s none of their business. After the
way they treated me, I don’t claim them as my own clansmen.”

“Can I… speak with you
privately
?” Mr. Hoover asked Elaine, looking more than concerned.

“I’m mated. So whatever you have to say can be said in front of my mate.”

The solicitor looked a little gray.

“What is it that you wished to speak to me about in private?” she asked when he didn’t
say.

“Nay, Miss Hawthorn. I will have to confer with your cousins as to whether they wish
for me to share this information with more than just yourself.”

“Who’s paying you for your services, Mr. Hoover?” she asked, her back and tone of
voice stiff, alpha-like.

“For the management of your properties, you are, miss. Uh, I guess, I’m no longer
managing your properties if the MacNeill clan will be responsible for them in future.
For this other matter, your cousins are.”

“My cousins,” she said.

Cearnach was about to rise from his chair to force the solicitor to say what he had
wished to say, but Elaine stayed him, a hand on Cearnach’s arm. “If you can’t share
the information, it really doesn’t matter,” Elaine said. “I want to see each of these
places. Would it be possible?”

“Aye. The occupants of the two manors are human. I’ve told everyone that you have
arrived in Scotland and might wish to see your properties. One of the buildings is
an ancient keep. One of our kind lives there.”

“A kinsman of mine?” she asked, her brows furrowing.

The solicitor hesitated to say, then shook his head. Lying? Hiding some truth?

“Can I see them today?”

“They’re spread out over Scotland. One of the properties is located about three hours
from here.” He pointed to one of the manor houses on the sheet of paper Ian was looking
at. Mr. Hoover closed up his laptop. “I’ll see about changing the names on the deeds.”
He rose from the chair.

Cearnach and Elaine stood.

Mr. Hoover bowed his head a little, looking like he wished nothing more than to leave
immediately. Why? Because of the news about Elaine and Cearnach’s mating?

Cearnach suspected her kin would be furious, and the little man did not wish to be
the bearer of ill tidings.

“Aye. Good day, ma’am, sir, my laird.”

“Will you show him out, Cearnach?” Ian asked.

Cearnach felt torn. He didn’t want to leave Elaine alone with Ian, afraid of what
he might say to her while he was gone.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Elaine promised Cearnach, giving his hand a squeeze, her
smile a promise that everything would be okay.

He kissed her cheek. “All right.” Then he gave Ian a warning look, which made his
brother give him a raised brow in return. Cearnach reluctantly escorted the solicitor
out of Ian’s office and shut the door.

Elaine retook her seat.

“My mother didn’t force this on you, did she?” Ian asked, his eyes narrowed as he
studied her response.

“No. Not Flynn, either. Cearnach said
I
forced it upon him.”

Ian didn’t say anything for a moment as if he was taking that in, then nodded as if
he agreed. She’d expected him to laugh or smile or something. Not just seriously agree.

“You were the one we were trying to track down for weeks in the St. Andrews area.
Cearnach was certain someone evil had taken you hostage, and he needed to rescue you.”

“I’m sorry he worried about me for so long.”

“We all did.” Ian leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “What do you think
the Kilpatricks and McKinleys want with you?”

“If no merchandise is hidden anywhere, or if it was discovered years ago, then I don’t
know why they would want to have anything further to do with me.”

Ian shook his head. “They wouldn’t want you to be mated to one of us. Certainly not
to Cearnach, of all people.”

“Why him?”

“His friendship with Calla. Now she’s called off the wedding between her and Baird.
They wished to speak with you about some matter, and now you’re here and siding with
us.”

She made an annoyed little huff under her breath. “That was easy to do after all they’d
done to Cearnach and me.”

“Aye, but they won’t see it that way. They’ll feel justified in everything they’ve
done.”

Cearnach stalked into the solar. “Was anything important discussed while I was gone?”
He took a seat next to Elaine again and put his arm around her shoulders.

Ian laughed. “You must have run the solicitor out of the building.”

“Duncan met me on the stairs and is giving him the royal escort out.”

“Not only have you created ill will with Elaine’s clan over Calla but now also concerning
Elaine,” Ian said.

Cearnach shrugged. “Couldn’t be helped. That clan is bad news.”

Ian nodded. “I’ll ask Guthrie and Duncan to see if they can learn anything about what
the solicitor alluded to. I suspect we will have more trouble.”

“They won’t give back my ID and the rental car and all,” Elaine said.

“I suspect not. But we have our ways,” Ian assured her.

“By force, you mean?” she asked.

“If we have to, aye.”

“What do you think this is all about, Ian?” Cearnach asked.

“I believe that Elaine’s kin know where more of the stolen goods are hidden. Or maybe
not exactly where, as they would have already procured them. Somehow Elaine is the
key.”

“Just because of the clues I have. When Robert tells me what he knows, hopefully we
can decipher the location, if anything still exists,” Elaine said.

Ian looked at his desk as if he was deep in thought. “I’m not sure.”

“What are you thinking?” Cearnach asked.

“Did they ask you to share what you knew about the treasure without coming to Scotland?”
Ian asked Elaine.

“Yes. But I wouldn’t tell them what I knew, assuming they’d find the goods and cut
me out of them entirely.”

“Are you certain?” Ian asked.

She frowned at him. “Of course, I’m certain. They were all a bunch of pirates.”

“Nay, lass, that’s not what I mean,” Ian said gently. “Are you certain that Kilpatrick
was only interested in the information about the treasure? If you had given it to
him over the phone and not bothered to come to Scotland, would he have been satisfied?”

“What are you saying?” Elaine asked. “That they wanted me just as much as they wanted
the goods?”

“Aye, that’s what I’m thinking. Though it could very well be that it’s just your information
they want.”

But from the tone of Ian’s voice, that wasn’t what she thought he meant at all.

As they sat in Ian’s solar discussing the reasons why Robert Kilpatrick wanted Elaine
in Scotland so badly, Cearnach asked her, “Could it be that your kin wanted to get
hold of your properties because they are profitable?”

“It’s possible that’s what this is all about.” She sighed. “I don’t wish to delay
this any further. I want to see the properties,” Elaine told Ian. “I want to see if
they might hold the goods my uncles stole from you and just take a look at the places
also.”

“I’m certain your cousins would have searched them thoroughly. It appears to me that
your uncles used the stolen goods to make sound investments. These, in turn, are now
back in MacNeill hands, but are more valuable than the original goods your uncles
stole from us,” Cearnach said, as if worried she might be disappointed.

She agreed he might be right. Yet, she wished she could have seen the goods. She envisioned
a dragon hoarding its treasure. She had hoped they were more than a few barrels of
useless stuff. She’d never realized her uncles had been good at making investments.
Her mother and father had been, but she’d always thought of her uncles as the kind
of men who lived off of one cache of stolen goods to the next. Never did she imagine
that they could have been wealthy landowners.

It saddened her to learn she’d had an older brother, lost to an earlier war, whose
death had upset her parents so much that they’d moved to the Americas. Had they worried
about losing her, too? Why hadn’t her parents ever told her about him? Or about the
other son who died before he was born.

“If you wish to survey your lands, I’ll make the necessary arrangements. You will
have a guard force at all times,” Ian said.

She frowned, not wanting to create more work for his clansmen. “Do you believe that’s
really necessary?”

“Aye. I don’t know what the McKinleys and Kilpatricks are up to where you’re concerned.
You’re one of us now. I won’t permit either you or Cearnach to travel alone until
we learn that the treasure doesn’t exist or discover some other reason why Robert
is so desperate to see you—alone.”

“I don’t want you or your people to feel put upon.”

Ian and Cearnach gave each other smiles. “The thing of it, lass,” Ian said, “is that
we live for adventure, train to fight, and protect. I will have a time choosing some
clansmen to accompany you without offending those who are not chosen.”

Elaine smiled at that. Instead of a group of men taking a step backward when asked
for volunteers to accompany them, she envisioned kilted warriors, swords in hand,
all stepping forward.

“If you’re sure…”

“I am, lass.”

Elaine stood and said to Cearnach. “I want to go on a treasure hunt. The first manor
Mr. Hoover mentioned is not too far from here.”

“I’ll send word at once to have a force of men attend you,” Ian said. “As to the keep,
it’s about five hours south of Argent Castle. I’ll ask Guthrie, Duncan, and Oran and
a few other men to check out the place. The men will be thorough. The renter might
be one of your kinsmen, despite what your solicitor said. I didn’t care for his hesitation
when he responded after you pointedly asked if the wolf was related to you.”

“Make sure they take notice if the property is near a loch or has a waterfall nearby.”

“Aye, lass. They will make sure of it.”

***

Despite not expecting to be overly impressed, Elaine was when they arrived at the
first estate.

Heavy stone walls and massive oak doors gave the immediate impression of the medieval
three-story building being just as hardy as the Highlanders accompanying her.

“No loch,” she said to Cearnach, thinking of what her uncle had eluded to.

“Aye. No waterfalls near here. No pile of rocks.”

Two vanloads of warriors joined them as Elaine knocked on the door of the manor, the
renters already informed of their visit. Wide-eyed, a matronly woman stared at all
the men standing around.

“My husband’s kinsmen,” Elaine said, “wanting to see the property also. They’ll just
look at the grounds. My husband will accompany me on a brief tour of the manor. The
others will remain outside.”

“Of course, Mrs. MacNeill. Come in. I’m Tricia Haverstein.”

Calling Cearnach her husband when he wasn’t—and when her kind normally didn’t wed,
nor had she ever planned such a thing—felt odd.

Inside, she toured the seven bedrooms, all with fireplaces and small glazed glass
windows. Antiques filled each room, and all the walls were papered in floral designs.
The older woman related details about the place as they moved through it. About all
the people who had made changes to the building over the years. How at one time the
manor was a monastery. She pointed to the window seats. “Prayer seats for the monks.”

Three spiral staircases led from one floor to another in the same manner as the stairs
at Argent Castle, for protection in case of invasion. The kitchen looked old with
its stone walls and fireplace, but was modernized with new appliances. A wine cellar
where Elaine thought a treasure might have been hidden proved to hold nothing but
racks of wine.

The woman motioned to one of the racks. “At one time a ship sank and casks of wine
were brought here to be enjoyed by the vicar and the parson. It was called the ‘right
of wreckage’ in the Middle Ages.”

“Finders, keepers,” Elaine mused.

“Aye.”

“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Haverstein.”

They left the manor, and when Elaine climbed into the car with Cearnach, she said,
“The other manor is only three hours from this one.”

Cearnach studied her for a moment, then nodded. He called Ian and okayed the trip
to the next medieval manor.

They stopped for a meal at a quaint little eatery and then they were off again.

The next manor was similar to the first, with ancient, beautiful oak doors and floors,
stone walls, and antique-filled rooms.

Like the other, the place was not near any water. “This couldn’t be where they hid
the treasure,” she said. “No loch. No waterfalls.” She couldn’t help the disappointment
in her voice.

“Aye, but remember the properties are worth far more than the merchandise your uncles
stole. And they are yours.”

“Ours,” she reminded him.

“They are that.” He called Ian to let him know of their progress. “I’ll tell her.
See you later.” He set the new phone down on the console. “They haven’t brought your
car to the castle yet, Ian said.”

“Do you think they will?” Elaine asked.

“I don’t know, lass. Because you wouldn’t do as they asked, maybe not. It’s time to
go home.”

She worried now what other measures Ian might take to get her property back and restitution
paid for Cearnach’s vehicle. She hoped it didn’t mean a battle between wolf packs.

***

Duncan and Guthrie and the other men scouted the area surrounding the keep that Elaine
owned. No one was at home, but they noted the smell of a gray wolf and suspected he
might be Elaine’s kin and trouble. If they’d been human, they would have had to abide
by human laws, such as those against illegal search and breaking and entering. But
shape-shifting wolves had their own set of rules to live by. It was the only way their
kind could live among humans without detection and survive as long as they had. Using
a key, Duncan, Guthrie, and Oran entered first.

Even though his attention should have been on searching for hidden places within the
keep, Duncan kept wanting to look through the drawers of the desk, learn the contents
of the computer sitting atop it, and rifle through every cabinet, nook, and cranny
in every room of the keep.

“He’s not any of the McKinleys or Kilpatricks we know,” Guthrie said, watching Duncan
as he stared at another confounded bureau drawer.

Then he jerked it open and began searching through it. “He’s been here forever. Long
enough to have known her uncles.”

Guthrie turned to the other men with them. “Search everything. All the drawers, cabinets,
everything for any clue as to who he is. Or any connections he might have with the
Kilpatricks, McKinleys, or Elaine.”

Either the guy was a neat freak or he had a maid who was one. Socks were rolled up
in one drawer. Briefs in another. Sweaters were neatly folded in another.

Duncan made a mess of them, not bothering to neaten up after himself. Guthrie smiled
at him, knowing that with the way a wolf could smell scents, the renter would realize
another wolf had handled his property. No sense in trying to hide the fact.

They returned to the office, and while Guthrie worked on breaking through the wolf’s
security code on his computer, Duncan searched through all the drawers in the room,
then began to pull books off a shelf and flip through each and every one of them.

Duncan found nothing, which was more than odd. He turned to watch Guthrie.

No matter how good his skills were at hacking, Guthrie was unable to get into the
man’s computer. He glanced at Duncan, then at the mass of books thrown on the floor
in a heap. Guthrie knew Duncan wouldn’t intentionally make a mess of someone else’s
place unless he had good reason. To make a statement. To make the wolf beware. Elaine
now had family, a new family, to protect her. Duncan couldn’t help feeling antagonistic
about the wolf who lived here.

“What do you suspect, Duncan?” Guthrie asked, standing.

Oran and his brothers came to the doorway of the office, shaking their heads as Duncan
considered them. “We didn’t find any clues,” Oran said.

“There’s nothing personal here anywhere. How can anyone live so long in a place and
have nothing that would clue others in about his habits, interests, lifestyle?” Duncan
said. “I have a feeling he’s connected somehow to Elaine, her family, something. And
it’s not in a good way.” That’s all Duncan had to say. A wolf’s instincts were often
right.

“Okay.” Guthrie sat back down at Mr. Hazelton’s computer. “Let’s see what we can learn
about old Samuel here.”

***

Much later that evening, Cearnach and Elaine returned to Argent Castle, where she
almost felt at home. Calling a massive castle in a different country “home” seemed
strange. Actually, being at the castle wasn’t what made her feel that way, but being
with Cearnach. He was home for her.

Most everyone had retired for the night, although Ian told Cearnach that his brothers
and cousins were still at the keep, trying to break into the renter’s computer. No
sign of the man as yet. And no indication that he was related to Elaine or that any
treasure was hidden within.

“I’m worried about them,” Elaine said to Cearnach.

“They’ll be fine.”

Dismissing her concern, he told her they were warriors, used to business like this.
She still couldn’t help herself. She hadn’t thought they’d do anything more than she
and Cearnach had done. Search the place. Not try to break into his computer. But Cearnach
had warned her they would be thorough.

She could see that Cearnach had only one thing in mind as he hurried her up to their
bedchamber. As soon as he shut the door, she yanked aside the curtain on her side
of the bed. He turned to see her sitting on the mattress, yawning. She attempted to
fight the tiredness that racked her body, but she couldn’t shake it off. After the
ghostly problems last night and the jet lag from the day before, then washing all
those huge pups earlier today and running all over Scotland searching for treasure,
she was exhausted.

Cearnach stalked toward her, his gaze predatory, not in the least bit tired. He crouched
before her and pulled off one of her boots, then the other. “It’s late and way past
time for bed.”

She smiled at him and cupped his face, then lifted it to look up at her. “If anyone
had told me I’d be sleeping with a Highland wolf in a castle in Scotland…”

“
Mated
to a wolf,” he corrected her. “There’s a vast difference. Last night, you slept with
a wolf. Tonight, you’re with your mate.”

Mated
to a wolf. She liked the way he said it. The connection that now stood between them
for the rest of their days.

His warm fingers stroked up her belly underneath the sweater, higher until he ran
his hands over her breasts and squeezed them. Already his erection was heavy against
her thigh, his breathing rough, hers getting rougher. She’d never known being with
a wolf could be this good.

He pushed the sweater up, exposing her breasts. Cool air from the room mixed with
his heated breath to make her nipples stand at attention. Her breasts felt heavier,
achy, needy. Just like the area between her legs was feeling needy. Then he licked
her nipples, tasting, swirling his tongue around one and then the other.

He raised his mouth to hers, his soft sweater brushing her bare breasts as he rocked
his erection against her leg, simulating being inside her. Her mouth caressed his,
her tongue sweeping out to lick his, her teeth gently nipping his lips in a wolfish
way.

He groaned with need, his fingers combing through her hair as she tugged at his sweater
to pull it up. To feel his heated skin rubbing against hers. The pleasure of his mouth
on hers, his tongue teasing her own, his body sliding against hers, all made her want
to be naked, to have him deep inside her… now.

“I want you,” she whispered against his mouth. Her hands glided down his bare back
and managed to slip into his jeans. He wasn’t wearing any boxers. Good. She cupped
his ass. “Now.” Her hushed voice came out a low growl.

He smiled, then whispered in Gaelic, making an ancient connection with her—not just
a wolfish one, but a Highland one as well.

She loved hearing the words that said he loved her, and she repeated them to him even
though hers had an American accent. He seemed to love the way she said the words,
no matter what her accent was. Then he stripped off her sweater and then his, tossing
them to the floor.

This was more like it. Her bare chest to his. Skin to skin. Nipples to nipples, his
just as erect as hers were.