A Highland Werewolf Wedding

Page 4

“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.
Chapter 2
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.