A Highland Werewolf Wedding (3 page)

One of her brows arched heavenward.

Normally he thought himself easygoing, except when someone destroyed his property.
In her case, he would make a rare exception. He smiled at the realization that she
wasn’t thoroughly intimidated by him. If she’d been human, she would have been. Even
a female wolf outside her own territory should be. But the little American she-wolf
wouldn’t give an inch.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Elaine Hawthorn.” She stared him down like a wolf that wouldn’t be cowed, but she
didn’t ask his name or act as though she wanted it.

He eyed her more closely, sure he had seen her somewhere before. A long…
very
long time ago. That was the problem with living for so many years. He wasn’t good
at remembering new names and faces in the short term. Long term? Even worse.

Something about her appearance and something about her reaction to him had him wondering.

“Have we met before, lass?” He felt less hostile, but he still had a mission and her
driving him off the road wasn’t going to thwart him.

She shook her head too quickly, as if she realized he couldn’t recall who she was,
and she wanted to keep it that way.

“Do you know my name?” he asked, even though he assumed she’d say no. He could judge
by her reaction, even if it was subtle, if she was telling the truth.

“How could I? I only just arrived in Scotland.” She was too aggressive in her response,
instead of just politely saying,
No, I don’t know you
.

He might not be real good at names and faces, but as intriguing as she was, he remembered
her from somewhere before. “I’m Cearnach MacNeill.”

She frowned a little. “How do you spell your name?”

He spelled it out for her, then added, “It’s pronounced like ‘Care-knock’ with the
‘ck’ at the end kind of sliding off to a ‘och’ sound.” He waited for some form of
recognition.

She gave it, even though she fought to keep her control… a subtle change in her scent,
worry, maybe. Not a strong sense of anxiety. Just something vague. She licked her
lips nervously, not in a seductive way. Glistening with fresh moisture, they looked
too appealing.

She dropped her hands from his chest, as if she didn’t want to touch him any longer
and maybe trigger some deeper memory. Or maybe he was looking too interested in her
in a feral way.

He hated losing that intimate touch, even though she had used her hands as a barrier
to his being so close to her. The exchange felt like so much more to him.

Suddenly remembering why he was here in the first place—to attend Calla’s wedding—he
said, “You’ll give me a ride to the wedding I’m attending. I’m already late.” At least
he assumed he was late. He hadn’t calculated any extra time into his travel plans,
and he’d already figured he’d arrive about the time everyone else took their seats
in the church.

“Wedding? Don’t tell me…” She put a finger to her chin, the skin beneath her eyes
crinkling with wry amusement. Then she pointed at him, the point of her fingertip
hovering so close to his chest that he was just waiting for her to make the intimate
connection again. This time she didn’t, to his disappointment. “It’s
your
wedding.”

“If it was, would that make a difference?” He watched her expression, seeing the sparkle
of humor in her eyes. He didn’t know why he’d asked, except that he could smell the
way he intrigued her, just as much as she intrigued him. He really wanted to know—did
it matter to her?

“It depends. I might be saving the bride from a fate worse than death if I delayed
your marrying her.”

At that, Cearnach grinned. He loved a woman with a sense of humor. “It’s my friend’s
wedding.”

“Ah, then that’s a different matter. Can’t disappoint a friend.” She truly sounded
sympathetic. “Why don’t you have a spare tire? I guess it would be inconvenient to
change a tire in all this wind while wearing a kilt.” This time she raked him up and
down with a sassy viewing of his whole body, her expression one of pure feminine delight.

His body tightened with need.

She was just as diligent in looking him over as he had been with her. It was as if
they were sparring. Her thorough job of looking was enough to turn up the heat already
making his blood sizzle.

“I would have no difficulty changing a tire in or out of my kilt.” He motioned to
the car where the rear tires were perfectly deflated. “As you can see, lassie, you
ruined
two
tires. I only have
one
spare. Now I’m later than before, and you’re driving me to the wedding.”

“I’ll be late for my appointment. You’ll have to call someone else to help you out.”

Ignoring her plans since she’d ruined his own and she owed him, he said, “If I had
to wait for assistance, I’d miss the whole ceremony. So you’ll take me to the wedding
since my car isn’t going anywhere and you helped to put it there.”

Cearnach decided the only way to make the woman see his position was to escort her
to the passenger side of the car and help her in, if she needed the assistance. He
was always a gentleman when with women. “Only
I’ll
be driving so we get there in one piece.”

She balked, glanced down at his legs, frowned, and motioned to his right leg where
the top of the handle of his
sgian
dubh
poked out of his kilt hose. “You’re already wearing a dagger.”

“Part of the Highland formal dress.” He bowed his head slightly, his face growing
so close to hers that they almost touched.

“I know, but why the big sword also? Expecting to go to war?”

He smiled a little. “Wolves tend to carry on their traditions from long ago. We all
carry swords to wolf weddings. It’s… strictly for show.” At least that’s what he hoped
it would be. Just like he hoped all the other guests at the wedding would be so attired.

She finally let out her breath but yielded, albeit reluctantly, climbed into the car
in a huff, showing off a lot of leg, and quickly yanked her skirt down. She folded
her arms and stared up at him as he towered over her, her expression mutinous. “You
were driving way too fast. That’s why you ran off the road.”

“You were driving in
my
lane.”

“There’s only one lane out here,” she retorted, brows lifted, waiting for him to disagree.

He shook his head, knowing he wouldn’t win this argument, then slammed her door. He
stalked around to the driver’s side and got in. Despite knowing she was in the wrong—although
she was not a local and obviously hadn’t known the rules of the road—he did feel a
twinge of regret that she would miss her appointment. Or… date, maybe. She looked
as though she intended to meet someone special. Another wolf? Or just a human? Then
again, if so, she probably would have called it a date, not an appointment.

He glanced at her as he started the engine. “Where were you going?”

“Senton Castle.”

He pulled onto the road and continued to the church, driving even faster than before.
“It’s in ruins.”

“I know that,” she said icily.

“It’s located about a quarter of a mile from here in the opposite direction from the
way you were traveling. You must have missed the road that would take you there.”
Or she wasn’t really going there and hadn’t wanted him to know where she was truly
meeting up with the bloke.

She frowned and looked back over her shoulder as if she could see the road leading
to the castle that way. “Great,” she muttered under her breath. Then she folded her
arms and glanced down at his kilt. “Is it a Highland wedding?”

“Good guess. We’re in the Highlands and I’m going to a wedding. Aye, it’s a Highland
wedding.”

She took a deep, exasperated breath. “I meant is everyone wearing traditional Highland
dress at the wedding, or are you the only one who will be dressed like that?” She
motioned to his kilt, sounding as though she thought he was being foolish even though
she had appeared to like the way he looked when she had given him the once-over.

“Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?”

This time she smiled. “It’s kind of cute, really.”

“Cute?” He grunted. Sexy as hell, turned on the lassies, definitely eye candy, warrior
material. But… cute?

She gave him an elusive smile, and he wondered if she was trying to get a reaction
from him. He still wasn’t quite sure about American humor, and he thought she might
be teasing him. He hadn’t meant to react so he had to concede she’d gotten him there.

“So, Cearnach,” she said as she dug around in her black leather bag and pulled out
a phone, “your name sounds like it must be Old World. Does it mean anything special?”

“Gaelic for victorious or warrior of the woods.” He shot her a look that meant he
was
victorious, at least mostly.

Elaine motioned to his sword. “As in fighting battles?”

“As in anything I set my mind to tackle, lass.” He gave her another interested look,
although he meant it only in response to her calling his kilt-wearing cute. She couldn’t
have been serious about that.

“Hmm.” She tapped a slender finger on her phone.

He thought he heard her curse lightly under her breath. “What’s wrong?”

“Battery’s dead.” She paused, then looked over at him. “Do you have a phone on you
that I can borrow?”

“Local call?”

“Of course. I need to call the guy I was to meet and let him know I’ll be there later,
in case he arrives early.”

“So you still had time?” Cearnach asked.

“I’m always early for appointments. Besides, I didn’t know how long it would take
me to get here from Edinburgh. And I wanted to explore the castle a little.”

“It’s in ruins.” He couldn’t help telling her again. She looked like she belonged
in a fancy hotel pub, sipping something sweet, not tromping in killer heels around
a broken-down castle where she would have to traverse hundreds of stairs and slippery
uneven pavers to reach the keep.

She let out a breath. “I
know
that. So can I borrow your phone?”

He patted his sporran, realized he’d left his phone in the console in his car, and
shook his head. “It’s in my car.”

“Terrific.” She folded her arms and looked out the window, sounding more resigned
than angry.

“Maybe you can borrow someone else’s phone when we get to the church. What time were
you supposed to meet him?”

“At two,” she said.

Cearnach frowned. The lady was way off on her time. “Two? You thought you were early?
It’s around four.” The time Cearnach was supposed to be at the church.

Her jaw dropped. “No,” she said with disbelief.

“Aye. The time-zone difference has probably knocked your natural internal wolf clock
off balance.”

She groaned and combed her fingers through her wind-tossed hair, which made her look
all the more appealing as the bodice of her dress stretched over her breasts and her
skirt drew up a bit.

She dropped her hands back to her lap and shook her head.

“Did he try to contact you when you didn’t arrive in time?”

She stared at her dead phone resting in her lap. “Maybe. I don’t know when the phone
died. The last call I managed was at the airport in Miami, and I never looked to see
how charged up it was at that point.”

“I’m sure he figures you’re late because of your flight schedule and driving time
here.” But Cearnach wasn’t letting her leave him until he knew for sure she’d met
her party and everything was on the up and up. Besides, there was the little matter
of where he’d met her before—and the fact she didn’t want to admit it.

Wolves were curious by nature, and he wouldn’t let her go before he knew the truth.

Neither Cearnach nor Elaine said another word on the remainder of the trip to the
wedding, but when they arrived at the church, he parked and hurried around to get
her door, afraid she might think she was dropping him off and leaving. “We’re here.”

“Super, now you can give me my keys back.” She reached out her hand and gave him a
small smile.

“Nay. You’re coming to the wedding, and then you’ll take me back to my car so I can
get a couple of tires replaced.”

When she didn’t move, he clasped her arm and pulled her out, then slammed the door
and hauled her toward the medieval church through the car park that was filled to
capacity. “We’re late. Don’t make us any later.”

“
You’re
late! I’m just forcibly detained. Why do I have to stay for the wedding? You could
get a ride with someone else after the ceremony.”

He knew that wasn’t a possibility. “If I couldn’t?” No one here would stick his or
her neck out to take Cearnach anywhere, not even to loan him or the person aiding
him a phone, knowing that would stoke the McKinley clan’s ire. “I’d be stuck here.
Besides, you’ve already missed your appointment. So enjoy a wee bit of Highland romance.”

Which he wasn’t feeling in the least, not with Calla marrying the wrong wolf. He liked
her family and they seemed to like him, but he was sure they wouldn’t care for him
being here and upsetting things between Calla and her groom.

Elaine quickly studied the building and appeared to be fascinated by the design. She
looked like she was a tourist. Maybe she had never been to Scotland before. He could
just imagine her pulling out a camera and taking pictures. Yet, he’d bet that she
had been. That he’d met her somewhere, and she didn’t want him to recall the incident.

Before she reached into her bag for a camera, he escorted her up the stone steps and
into the church.

The front pews were packed with family and friends, most of the males wearing traditional
Highland dress. The tartans of different clans were on display, but predominant were
the red of the Stewarts and the blue, green, and red of the McKinleys. The MacNeill
plaid Cearnach wore was also a blue and green, but with yellow instead of red in the
sett.

The bride wore a gown of white and the bridesmaids were in lavender—to match the purple
flowers decorating the church, Cearnach thought. Calla looked devastatingly beautiful,
her long red-blond hair swept up in a bun, ringlets of curls framing her face, and
small flowers decorating her hair as she stood in the wings with her father. She was
mostly hidden from the view of the gathered friends and family as she waited while
the closest family members were escorted to their seats up front.

Lavender, lilacs, heather, and thistle filled clear glass vases around the outer walls,
scenting the confines of the small church. Stained-glass windows let in a small amount
of dismal light from the gloomy day. Modern-day lights resembling candles in brass
and glass flutes helped to brighten the church somewhat. Dark oak pews that had been
used by Highlanders and guests for centuries during worship beckoned him to take a
seat, the ends draped in lavender satin bows, ribbons, and flowers.

He glanced at Elaine to see her opinion of the wedding. She was smiling, her gaze
sweeping the rest of the gathered clansmen, taking in their clothes and the chapel,
breathing in deeply to capture the perfumed air and wolf scents.

As she stood there in that provocative dress, looking seductive and enticing, he wondered
what Elaine was really doing here in Scotland. When had she been here before? Even
though it was none of his concern, he found he wanted to know more about her: why
she knew him, why he knew her, and why she didn’t want him to remember their former
association.

In her red dress and with her dark hair, she stood out among the gathered wedding
guests, striking and utterly appealing. In one sense, she looked like she was Little
Red Riding Hood among the big bad wolves, an outsider, American, not invited to the
wedding—and no one would want her here because she was with him.

He noted that the bride’s family was seated on the left side of the church. He was
about to escort Elaine to the last pew, which was empty, when she whispered, “I would
think you’d have some friends here at the wedding who could help you out.”

She hadn’t asked him a question so he didn’t respond, not wanting to explain that
he was here because of Calla, and no one else would be happy to see him.

“Which side are you here for? Groom or bride?” Elaine asked, her voice ultra-low.

“Bride.” When her eyes widened, he clarified, “She’s a friend.”

Elaine’s mouth gaped briefly, then she smiled darkly. “
Figures
she’d marry someone else.”

Hadn’t he just said Calla was a friend? Not his intended mate? Before he could respond,
Elaine pulled her arm free from his hand. He hadn’t realized he’d still been gripping
her, keeping her close to him as if protecting her from any other wolf’s interest.

Several of the friends and family members of the bride and groom glanced back over
the pews at Cearnach and Elaine, their expressions annoyed that anyone would be this
late in arriving at the church as the bride walked up the aisle with her father, the
music announcing that part of the ceremony. Then the guests’ eyes widened as they
saw just
who
had arrived. Cearnach definitely wasn’t someone they expected or wanted to attend.
Like the gray day outside, the expressions on the groom’s side were especially stormy.

Calla looked back and beamed at Cearnach. Her brilliant smile radiated through the
church, chasing away the gloom and making him realize how important it had been to
her for him to be here.

Baird McKinley, the groom, looked beyond his bride in Cearnach’s direction, his face
reddening when he saw Cearnach. The two men locked gazes. Cearnach’s expression was
a warning—
Treat
Calla
right
. Baird’s was just as much of a warning—
Get
lost
and
stay
out
of
Calla’s life
.

Unruffled, Cearnach stood in the pew until he realized Elaine had backtracked and
was now standing in a pew on the groom’s side. At first, Cearnach figured:
What
difference
would
it
make
where
she
sat
as
long
as
she
stayed
put
? He tried to watch the wedding procession in progress, but two bachelor wolves standing
in the pew in front of Elaine must have caught the scent of the new, intriguing lone
she-wolf.

The Kilpatrick brothers moved from their pew and slipped around to the one she was
standing in like a couple of wolves on the hunt. Everyone sat down and the brothers
took their seats on either side of the American she-wolf, boxing her in and declaring
their interest.

Cearnach growled low. The arrangement wasn’t acceptable at all.

Even though she was a wolf sitting in a church filled with people, he thought she
looked small and vulnerable. Hell, he thought she looked sexy and vulnerable. That
was the problem.

For a moment, all thoughts of Calla and her wedding fled from his mind as Cearnach
swore under his breath. He watched the Kilpatrick brothers, cousins of the McKinleys,
crowd her. He didn’t like the way they were declaring ownership of the she-wolf. Or
the way she pulled her arms closer to her body, showing she didn’t like their close
proximity. He was certain she didn’t want to make a scene by moving, though.

Intent on rescuing her, he rose from the bench, crossed the aisle, and stood by her
pew where Robert Kilpatrick kept her blocked in.

Cearnach growled at Elaine in a low voice meant only for her ears, “Sit by me,
now
, lassie.” He hadn’t meant to sound so growly, but if she’d sat beside him in the
beginning, he wouldn’t have to rescue her now.

Appearing innocent and sweet, as if any alpha she-wolf could who looked like she did,
Elaine smiled up at him and mouthed the words, “No, thank you.”

The Kilpatrick brothers both patted their swords and grinned up at him as if to say,
“Leave the lady alone.”
They’d
see to her needs.

Over his dead body. Cearnach took a deep breath. Ian would kill Cearnach himself if
he learned Cearnach had started a sword fight in a church during a wedding ceremony
over an American she-wolf he didn’t even know. Not that sword fights didn’t break
out during wolf weddings from time to time. Usually they occurred over the bride,
not a guest, though.

Annoyed to the max, Cearnach restrained himself from reaching over and hauling Elaine
out of the pew. He waited as patiently as wolfishly possible for her to move on her
own accord. Two more of the McKinley brothers, the younger ones, entered the church,
arriving late to Calla’s wedding and surprising Cearnach.

They both smiled at him in such a sinister way that Cearnach figured they’d be up
to something before long. They glanced at Elaine and raised their brows in wolfish
speculation. They walked past him to join Baird McKinley’s two older brothers at the
front of the church. Which also surprised him.

Elaine didn’t spare them a glance as she watched the wedding, ignoring Cearnach as
he waited for her to comply with his request.

Not used to anyone saying no to him, he hesitated. Like his older brother, Ian, he
was used to giving commands and having people respond quickly to do his bidding.

When she didn’t move, he grasped her arm and pulled her out of the seat, which meant
her skirt brushed over Robert’s kilted lap and her bare leg touched his long legs
as she couldn’t avoid them. Not surprisingly, he wouldn’t be a gentleman and stand
up to allow her through. Robert Kilpatrick smiled broadly at her. Her face was either
red with embarrassment or flushed with anger. Cearnach couldn’t tell.

Cearnach marched her across the aisle and sat her beside him in the empty last pew,
this time blocking her in.

“Highland barbarian,” Elaine whispered, still frowning.

Cearnach crossed his arms over his chest and smiled.

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment,” she said. “Why did you make me sit over here,
anyway? I was perfectly fine where I was. I won’t have you dictating where I’ll sit.
Not when you forced me to come here in the first place.”

So that was what this was about—showing off her alpha spirit. He could understand
that. Alphas truly didn’t like to be dictated to. Certainly not by a stranger. He
also wondered if she had a deeper reason for not wanting to sit next to him. A reason
that had to do with their meeting in the past.

When he didn’t respond, she changed tactics, saying in a hushed voice, “Oh, I see.
You sorely missed me.”

“Hardly.” He gave her a dark look, hiding the smile that was trying to surface. “I
didn’t want you forgetting your duty in the event any of
those
,” he said, his voice couched low as he motioned toward the now disgruntled Kilpatrick
brothers, who were watching them and not the wedding, “distracted you too much. Besides
you didn’t look happy with the company you were keeping.”

She didn’t respond for several moments, which meant he’d thought right. Then she folded
her arms and asked, “How long is this going to take?”

“Hours. We’ll attend the reception afterward.” He’d only meant to wish Calla well
at the reception and leave, but something about Elaine made him want to prolong his
being with her. He couldn’t fathom exactly why. Maybe deep down it bothered him she
was in a strange country and hadn’t connected with whomever she was supposed to be
meeting.

Yet…

Looking down at her, he seemed to recall he had tried to rescue her before. It wasn’t
just a meeting that they had had. He just couldn’t remember when. Or why.

“No way. I’m not staying that long,” she whispered, tilting her head to the side with
a pointed look. “Don’t you have any friends here who could give you a ride?”

“Not here.”

Narrowing her eyes, she stared at him. “Wait. You’re not a wedding crasher, are you?
I’m not exactly what you’d call an invited guest either, you know.”

He shrugged. “I’m a friend of the bride’s. She
did
invite me. I doubt anyone else is happy to see me, though.”

She snorted. “Most likely not even her, right about now.”

He couldn’t help but give her a wry smile.

The minister again spoke, this time garnering Cearnach’s full attention. “Does anyone
have an objection to the marriage?” The minister looked straight at Cearnach and Elaine,
his voice elevated, sounding half annoyed with them.

Everyone in the congregation turned around to stare in the direction the minister
was looking. A few of the men seated on the groom’s side had their hands on the hilts
of their swords belted at their waists. The bride’s guests and family waited with
bated breath.

Elaine finally prodded Cearnach in the ribs.
Prodded
him! A Highland warrior!
He glared at her.

Frowning, she looked up at him. “Well?” she whispered, when he said nothing.

Everyone was so quiet that he heard a fly fluttering on the other side of the kirk.

When Cearnach didn’t say a word to either the minister’s question or Elaine’s prodding,
two of McKinley’s older brothers stood, ready to do battle, and headed toward the
back of the kirk, just to the place where Cearnach and Elaine were sitting.

The eldest one motioned with his thumb for Cearnach to leave.

Vardon.

The McKinley had never forgiven Cearnach for having kissed Vardon’s mate first. Vardon
hadn’t even known the lass at the time. Apparently Cearnach’s kiss had made an impression
on the lass, and she had shared what had gone on between them. Still, one kiss shouldn’t
have mattered. Add that to the years of battles between their kin, and now with Cearnach
being at Vardon’s brother’s wedding…