A Highlander's Obsession (Highlander's Beloved) (15 page)

He stood and tugged off his sweater. After shifting, he stalked to the bed and stood over her. Her cherry blossom fragrance mingled with their combined musk of arousal and lovemaking. She shifted under the covers and moaned his name. The odor of her arousal grew stronger. Pride and possession surfaced. Dear God, how he wanted her to be his.

Are ye dreaming of me, leannan?
He swept the back of his paw over her cheek.

She turned her face toward his fur.
Need you …

Creighton drew back and sighed, resignation constricting his chest.
I’m sorry, leannan. I must do this if I stand a chance at winning yer love
.

Her soft lips formed a pout and a jolt of desire shot through his system.
Creigh, I need you. You need me. Please … your kiss …

He touched her temples with his paws and erased her memory of all that happened from the point of her running upstairs after throwing water on him at the table. She sighed deeply and settled once more into a deep sleep. Then he stepped back into the shadows and shifted into human form again.

Minutes later, Creighton joined his brothers, overseeing a buffet in the dining room for their overnight guests. “How many decided to spend the night?”

Ronan stopped slicing a beef brisket. “Everyone. While ye were upstairs calming the American, we’ve been bringing up supplies fer breakfast in the morning. Mum’s in the kitchen kneading dough fer bread and scones. Bryce just restocked the bar.”

“What else needs done?”

One of the women removing lids from bowls stopped and glanced around. “I think we’ll be fine with what we’ve got, Creighton. Everyone brought a lot of food fer our gathering earlier, and there was plenty leftover.”

“Will ye be all right if I call Ronan and Bryce into me office fer a meeting?”

She nodded. “Aye, sir.”

Creighton closed his office door behind his brothers and turned the key in the bolt. “Who needs a Whyte and Mackay?”

Bryce laughed. “Give Ronan a double. He’s been dodging Lorna Aiken all afternoon and evening.”

“Get off me back, Bryce. Ye think me nerves ain’t shot with the starry-eyed girl standing behind me every time I turn?”

Creighton handed them each a glass. “How old is Lorna? Is she twenty yet?”

“Aye, she turned twenty last month and claims to hear her biological clock ticking, whatever the hell that means.”

Bryce snorted. “Means she’s horny and wants ye to take care of her.”

Ronan scowled at his youngest brother before turning his gaze on Creighton. “Lorna isna the female we need to be discussing. It’s Paisley we need to talk about. How did she handle hearing our tale?” He settled on the sofa and sipped his drink. “She looked like she’d seen a ghost.”

“Aye,” Creighton said, then tipped his glass and welcomed the bite of the aged whisky. “She did see ghosts. Upstairs in her suite of rooms.”

Ronan rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Christ. How did that go?”

He told them all of it, except for their lovemaking. Unfortunately, now that he’d erased her memory of this afternoon, only he retained the recollection of their sweet sexual union. He gulped more of the Whyte and Mackay to drown his desire and forced his attention to his responsibilities to the sleuth.

“Let me tell ye about Angus’s will. The man was good to us, and I’m greatly relieved. Once that’s done, my bear needs fresh air. He’s nudging me to shift. I reckon yours are too.”

“Aye.” Ronan nodded. “He’s been pestering me fer the last couple hours. The telling of his tale, of our history always stirs his wild blood. He wants out so damn bad, it’s been a struggle to keep the human dominant.”

“We were bears long before we took on human form.” Creighton emptied his glass. “We canna deny them.”

“Do ye ever look on our human existence as a curse?” Bryce’s countenance adopted a rare seriousness. “There’s so much emotional pain associated with being human. So many damn rules of society to adhere to. Being a bear brings us more freedom.” He tilted his glass and swallowed its contents. “Sometimes I’d sooner stay a bear.”

Creighton clasped Bryce’s shoulder. “Colleen needs ye. She wouldna ken why ye left her. Let’s give the bears their time. I’ll tell ye about the will while we run. I want to patrol the grounds, especially the shoreline. Something is going on around here I canna put me finger on, but I sense it, or rather me bear does. Too many sheep are being killed, and there are too many signs I canna decipher. I mean to find out what’s happening.” He tugged off his sweater and glanced at Ronan. “What does yer bear say about Lorna?” Had his brother’s bear decided on his mate too, just as his had?

A deep blush crept up Ronan’s neck and across his cheeks. “He’s been voicing his opinions, don’t think he hasna.”

Bryce opened the secret door to the stairway and then took off his clothes. “Bet he’s been telling ye to mate. Hell, it’s been so long for me, me bear’s been telling me to mate everyone, including wrinkle-faced Cook.” The brothers laughed as they shifted. God, it was good to let their bears out. They ambled down the steps and into the night.

* * *

“Good morning, sweet pea.” Gram yanked open the drapes and Paisley squinted into the sunlight pouring through the windows.

She pulled the covers over her head and moaned. “What time is it?”

“Ten past seven. Do you know I laid down for a nap after the reading of the will and slept straight through until this morning? I’m starving and badly in need of a cup of tea. You’ve got ten minutes before I die of starvation.” Gram hurried to Paisley’s closet and pulled out her turquoise pantsuit. “Put this on, sweet pea. It shows off your hourglass figure. Creighton won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

“I’m not sure that should be my goal since I’m engaged.”

“You know how I feel about Alex. He thinks he can capitalize on your gift.” She shook a bony finger at Paisley. “Mark my words, he’s going to try and turn you into some profitable corporation with him at the helm.”

Paisley winced when she sat up. Why was she sore? It was almost as if she’d had a wild night of sex.

“Sweet pea, did you hear my warning about Alex?”

She nodded. How would Gram react if she knew Alex was after her to write a book about her experiences with animals? He’d even researched a ghostwriter to help her. Frankly, she was relieved to be away from him for a while. Maybe he’d ease up on the book idea. She had no desire to publicize her uniqueness. Enough of that had been done already.

She took the suit Gram waved at her and laid it across the bed. “What did your uncle leave you in his will?” She removed her golden hoops from her ears and laid them on the nightstand. “I hope it’s a suit of armor we can stand at the bottom of your steps at home, or a swath of his plaid. Though I’m not sure how we’d ship metal armor to Virginia.”

“Uncle Angus left me his estate.” Gram pressed a wrinkled hand to her chest. “Isn’t that the wildest thing? I can’t get over it. My mind swims with the enormity of having a six-hundred-acre estate in Scotland. As soon as the roads are fit to travel, I’m asking Creighton to take us there. I’m dying to see it.”

“Oh, Gram, what will you do with it? Our home is in the States.” This inheritance presented a whole slew of problems Paisley wasn’t sure her grandmother was up to handling. “At your age, shouldn’t you be doing what you love?”

Gram shot her a look of defiance with her silver eyebrows arched, her blue eyes widened, and her lips in a firm pink line.

“Look, all I’m saying is, it’ll be hard trying to manage an estate from the other side of the Atlantic. Maybe you should think about selling it.”

“This estate is going to be your inheritance.” Gram held up a finger and pointed to it. “One, according to the will, I can’t sell it.” Another arthritic finger rose. “Two, I’m having a will drawn up, making sure you get it after I’m gone. Three, I’m old, so I get what I want.” She winked and smirked in that bodacious way she had.

The mere thought of living in the same area as Creighton sent opposing emotions charging across her heart like two warring knights on fiery steeds—bliss at having the
opportunity to get to know the Scot better and misery over the futility of their attraction when she was engaged to Alex. No, living here, desiring one man while being tied to another, would be unbearable.

“Gram, that’s not necessary.”

Her grandmother rummaged through Paisley’s underwear drawer, choosing a bra and panties for under the pantsuit. “Why don’t you wear thongs? Men love thongs.”

She snatched the red bra and matching lace briefs from Gram’s outstretched hand. “Then let them wear the things. I prefer bikini briefs. Will your stomach wait while I take a shower?”

“Make it snappy.” Gram pressed a hand to her midsection. “I’m starved. Tell me, what did you do with yourself after I came upstairs?”

Paisley stopped in the doorway to her bathroom and slowly pivoted. “I … I don’t know. I … I …” She remembered the funeral and the meal afterward. Creighton had made her angry and she’d tossed water on him. They’d had words and she ran up here to get away from the arrogant Scot. She’d changed clothes. The very clothes she’d slept in. Maybe she’d simply crawled in bed to take a nap and, like Gram, slept through the night.

Gram snorted. “You musta got into some of that strong Scottish whisky I’ve always heard about.” She pursed her lips. “Get your sweet butt in gear, missy.”

Heads turned when they stepped into the bustling dining hall. Goodness, had everyone spent the night? Creighton strode toward her and she groaned. Would he still be angry with her for dumping water on his lap?

His face was freshly shaved this morning, and he personified virility in his ivory fisherman’s sweater. A swath of his plaid was angled across his chest, secured at his waist with a brass emblem of some kind. His dark jeans fit tight over his lean hips, and cupped his manhood the way her hand itched to do. A jolt of awareness swept through her. She rubbed her palm against her leg, hoping to ease the need to touch him. The warmth of a blush caressed her cheeks.
Thank God he can’t read my thoughts
.

A slow, sexy-as-hell smile spread as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Oh hell
.

“Good morning, ladies. I trust ye slept well. Paisley, ye look particularly lovely in that blue suit.” His fingertips touched the collar and a shiver shuddered through her. “I think it’s called turquoise, is it not? Men aren’t so good at distinguishing colors. To us, blue is blue no matter the hue, but Colleen has been a help.”

“How so?” He seemed so open this morning. What was up with that?

“I sometimes color with her at night to help her wind down. When she asks for a certain color crayon, ye better hand her the right one.” He winced. “She gets rather testy.”

The thought of this muscled man gently doling out crayons to his niece was at direct odds with his brawny appearance. Something inside her warmed and she smiled. In response, he mirrored her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. For a few seconds they stared into each other’s eyes.

Gram cleared her throat and Creighton’s attention shifted to her. “Miss Effie, I see ye’ve worn yer pelican baffies to breakfast.”

She stuck out a foot, obviously pleased he noticed. “Yup. My conversation starters. Now if you two will excuse me, I need hot tea and food.”

Creighton rested a large hand on Gram’s shoulder. “I’ve saved ye both places at me table. I hope ye will join me.” Gram nodded and shuffled off. He aimed his gaze on Paisley. “How do ye feel this mornin’?”

Why was he being so nice, especially after she’d argued with him?

“Fine. I’m sorry I threw water on you yesterday.” The words tumbled from her lips in a breathy, unexpected rush.

The backs of his fingers stroked her cheek, an unexpected gesture that seemed oddly familiar, as if he’d done it before. “All that is behind us,
leannan
.” His voice dropped to an intimate level and her feminine parts came alive, quivering at the timbre of his tone. His woodsy aftershave made her want to lean into him and inhale the smell right off his skin.

She peeled her tongue from the roof of her mouth, hoping she’d sound less breathy. “What does
leannan
mean?”

He blinked a few times, a strange expression on his face. “It’s a Scottish term of endearment. We have many we enjoy using.”

“I see. I’m surprised there’s such a crowd here this morning.” She glanced around the large dining room.

Everyone watched. Some made a pretense of eating as their gazes repeatedly shifted to them, while others openly gawked.

She shifted with unease. “We seem to be the center of attention.”

Creighton shrugged. “I’m head of the clan. I’m often watched and judged.” With his hand
at the small of her back, he escorted her to his table. “An ice storm hit yesterday afternoon, with fierce winds off Mathe Bay. The roads quickly turned treacherous, so we extended the invite to spend the night.” He held the chair for her.

The soreness in her core made her sit gingerly.

He leaned over her shoulder and whispered against her ear. “Ye move rather slowly this morning. Are ye well, lassie?” His hands caressed her shoulders in a proprietary manner.

The heat of a blush raced across her cheeks. She could hardly tell him the muscles in her legs ached, as if she’d had them spread high and wide. Nor could she mention the strange bite mark on her shoulder she’d discovered in the mirror after her shower. “Yes … yes, I’m fine.”

A sprig of heather tied with a white ribbon was nestled next to her plate. She lifted it to her nose and sniffed the delicate woodsy and honeysuckle fragrance.

Colleen pointed to the spray with her spoon. “Uncle Creigh said ye got heather ’cause yer special. After we eat, ye can come to me room to look at me dollies, like ye promised yesterday.”

When had she promised to go to Colleen’s room?

“Coffee or tea, miss?” A lady held a pot in each hand.

Paisley extended her cup. “Coffee, please.”

“We’re having our favorite Scottish breakfast here at Matheson Lodge.” Creighton pointed to a large bowl. “This is clapshot, made with mashed turnips and potatoes, or ‘neeps and tatties,’ as we call them. Cook mixes in chives, butter, salt, and pepper.” He leaned toward Paisley and lowered his voice. “ ’Tis not a dish normally served fer breakfast in Scotland, but Cook takes pride in her secret recipe and treats the clan when they’re all here.”