Settings

A Highland Werewolf Wedding

Page 22

   



He still rubbed her back, craving the intimacy between them. She didn’t move away and, in fact, leaned a little closer to him as if wanting more of his touch. He wanted to give it. But they had to talk.
When she finally caught her breath, she hoarsely said, “You can’t be serious. She hates me. From everything she said, her posture, all of it.”
“No, Elaine,” he said tenderly. “My mother can be hard to read. I believe she sees in you something of herself. A fighter. Someone who would protect one of her own when she had no stake in risking her own neck. She likes you. That’s saying something, believe me.”
She gave a harsh laugh. “If the way she reacted to me indicates she likes me, I’d hate to see her when she hated me.”
“She tests a wolf’s mettle. You have what it takes to impress her.”
She let out her breath softly. “I didn’t think she appreciated what I’d done—standing up for you against Vardon.”
“Hmm, lass, enough to suggest I mate with you. She wouldn’t make a proposition like that flippantly.”
Elaine laughed again, softer now, more amused than bitter. “Did she choose your brothers’ mates for them?”
“No.” He recalled how angry his mother had been when she learned Ian had taken Julia as his mate but hadn’t bothered to consult her. When Shelley became Duncan’s, his mother had actually been glad that the she-wolf had helped to recover their money, so she was more than willing to open her home to her. Shelley’s Uncle Ethan was an added benefit because Cearnach could see that his mother was becoming quite smitten with the American.
“So why does she think she can decide who you mate?” Elaine asked.
“She thinks I’m in lust with you and that can turn into something deeper,” he boldly said, watching her reaction. Elaine had to know how much he wanted her already, and not just because of the way she heated his blood with sexual craving.
Her eyes sparkled in the soft lights, her mouth curving up. God, how he wanted to cup her face in his hands and kiss her like they hadn’t a second to lose.
She finished her glass of wine and poured herself another. “So what has that to do with anything? Lust is lust. It doesn’t necessarily lead to a long-term relationship. Not between wolves who mate for life.”
He cocked a brow. “She believes that the feeling is mutual.” He knew the feeling was mutual because Elaine’s pheromones told him so. Because of the way her heart raced when he drew close to her. Because of how he felt the air sizzle with sexual tension between them. Aye, the lass lusted for him as much as he did for her. There was no denying it.
The glass of wine that Elaine was about to sip from stopped at her lips, and she studied him before lowering it again and saying, “Okay, so if we’re being brutally honest here, what is this really about?”
He admired her for her insight. He wasn’t about to hide the truth from Elaine. Best to get it all out in the open. He leaned back on the pillows covering the couch, observing her reaction to what he was about to say although he wanted to pull her close, kiss her, forget talking, and get to more pleasurable business.
She sipped her wine, then set the glass down, pressed her back against the soft cushions, and folded her arms, ready to hear the naked truth.
“The Hawthorn brothers…”
As soon as he mentioned them, she stiffened slightly. She was uncomfortable right away. Her past had come back to haunt her.
“…stole the goods from three of our merchant ships. The word was that they hid the goods somewhere in Scotland.”
Her lovely, dark brown eyes narrowed fractionally. Not enough that most would have noticed, but a wary wolf would see the shift in her response.
“My mother wants us to become mates. I help you to locate the goods and you get to keep them, but they stay in the family,” he said.
Elaine narrowed her eyes even further. “I see. You agreed to this scheme?” Her tone was icy now.
He hated how he’d turned a blossoming friendship into something else. A business relationship no longer in the least bit friendly.
“No. My mother dictates, but we do as we see fit,” Cearnach said easily.
She relaxed a little, but the hostility was still smoldering beneath the surface. “Thank you, Cearnach, for being honest with me.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“I didn’t know my uncles had stolen from your family before your mother told me. I’m sorry for what… for what they did.”
“Aye. I doubted you knew much about any of their operations.”
“I didn’t.” She took a deep breath. “The truth is that once I learned the goods probably belonged to your family, I would have given them back anyway.”
“Aye, lass,” he said, believing her even though her expression said she was ready to argue her point.
“You believe me,” she said. Her reaction was half question and half statement, indicating just how surprised she was.
“Aye, lass. You are not a pirate like your kin.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Your mother said something awful happened to your men. That they lost everything. Did… did my uncles kill some of your people?”
“Nay, Elaine. They were privateers and believed they were fighting for a good cause. We fought them, of course, but when we knew we were undermanned and outgunned, we gave up. Lives were worth more than a few measly trinkets. I have to admit that I lost a favored sword to your Uncle Tobias. I was but a lad and wouldn’t stop fighting, though my da ordered me to. Tobias Hawthorn fought me until he knocked my sword from my grip. He said he wanted me to join his crew but instead took my sword for safekeeping.
“I was the only one of my brothers who had traveled with my da on that trip. Duncan chided me that he wouldn’t have lost his sword. Truth be known, Ian is the best swordsman of all of us, and he might have kept his sword. Maybe not. We were all just lads then. After the theft, we were short on funds and had a harsh winter to get through, but we managed to survive.”
“You fought my uncle?” she said, disbelief threading her words.
“Aye. He had no intention of killing me. He could easily have done so, as large as he was compared to how scrawny I was in my youth. He showed he had honor.”
Elaine swallowed hard, tears misting her eyes. “If we find the treasure…” she said, taking his hand—and all at once he was back to his original need to move closer and make this personal. To see the heated look in her eyes right before he kissed her sweet mouth. To feel her soft curves plastered against his hard muscles. That’s what he wanted—but then she continued talking, and he realized her touch had made him lose all thoughts but one.
“…I want those families who suffered the most to share whatever is found,” she said. Then frowned. “Are you listening?”
He tried to contain his wolfish smile because she was being brutally honest with him and that had nothing to do with where his thoughts had roamed of their own volition. “Aye, lass. You are nothing like your uncles. I imagine they’d be rolling in their graves if they knew what you’d offered to do with their loot.”
“My loot,” she corrected him, giving him a little smile.
He pulled her into his arms, loving her, unable to keep the distance between them, and she was kissing him and running her hands up under his sweater, her fingertips warm and soft as she teased his skin.
But he had to know more. He had to before they could go any further.
“What happened when I lost you in St. Andrews? What happened to Kelly Rafferty? The man your uncles said you had to mate?”
Chapter 13
Sitting on the sofa in the garden room, Cearnach wanted nothing more than to take Elaine right then and there. The way her hands had slid up his chest underneath his sweater and the way she was kissing his mouth with such pent-up need, her tongue teasing his lips, stroking his tongue, made his fingers tangle in her hair as he tackled her mouth with just as much enthusiasm.
He told himself he had to know what had become of the man who had mated her, but he couldn’t get his feelings for her under control. Until a knock sounded at the garden room door. Cearnach frowned, looking down at a tussled Elaine, her lips swollen from their kisses, her cheeks high with color, her hair tangled. She was beautiful.
“Stay,” he said, not wanting her to move an inch until he took care of the matter.
She smiled up at him, her brows and the corners of her mouth lifting as she took a deep breath and relaxed even more against the cushions, her expression saying she was more amused than annoyed with him that he would command her in such a way.
When he reached the door, he found covered dishes sitting on the table outside, Heather and Shelley’s scent lingering in the air. He loved his family.
He carried the trays inside, closing the door with his boot.
Elaine had moved to the table but finished off her wine as if it would brace her to speak to Cearnach about that bastard Rafferty. He wanted to return to the sofa, to pull her into his arms, and comfort her while she spoke. But he needed to get some food down her.
Cearnach studied her as they ate the hearty lamb stew Heather and Shelley had prepared. Or… at least he ate the food. Elaine merely moved chunks of celery and lamb meat around in her bowl.
The warm fire, the orange-red flames licking the air, the aroma of the stew, and the wine all added ambience, he thought. The golden lights silhouetted her, and she looked like a wolf goddess. His wolf goddess.
She leaned her chin on her hand, resting her elbow on the table, and he wondered if her tired posture had to do with the wine. Then she perked up a little, and he thought she was going to eat. Instead, she refilled her empty wineglass. He raised his brows, wanting to ask if she normally drank that much or felt the need because of what she’d been through today.
“Okay, here’s the story. Kelly Rafferty was furious I had left St. Augustine with my uncles.” She tipped her wineglass one way and then the other, watching the wine tilt like waves on a shifting sea. “I meant to sail home after my uncles were hanged.” She swallowed hard.