A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,19
his shoulder and wasn’t bare-chested, she could imagine him sword-fighting without the rest of his clothes. Just a kilt and boots. She liked the way she could tease the gruffness from him, and he’d parry with her in a lighthearted way. The way he was so protective of her in front of the other wolves was endearing, too.
She did feel awful that he’d ruined two tires. Not because it was her fault. He’d obviously been driving too fast, trying to make it to the church on time. Still, she did feel bad about it.
“I’ll wait with you until you get someone to help replace the tires on your car,” she offered, wiping rainwater from her face with some tissues from her purse.
“I can’t seem to place the time or circumstance, but I recall trying to help you and… somehow you got away,” he said, as if he couldn’t believe anyone could escape him if he didn’t wish it.
She shrugged, then drew closer to the heater again. She was trying to dry her dress, but her wet hair kept dripping water all over it. She was irritated with herself for being so off on her timing for her own appointment. Robert Kilpatrick would probably be upset that she hadn’t arrived at the agreed-upon time. She was certain he had tried to contact her and hoped he realized she had phone trouble.
“Where are you staying?” Cearnach asked.
The car slid on the wet pavement, and she grasped the leather seat to keep her balance. She glanced at him. “Flora’s Bed and Breakfast.”
Frowning, Cearnach gripped the steering wheel as he maneuvered through another puddle of water.
“What’s wrong?”
“How did you learn of that place? It’s not listed anywhere as a rental. The bed and breakfast is for family and friends who need to stay in the area for the night.”
“The man I’m meeting said it was close to the castle ruins.”
Cearnach wore that dark warrior expression again. “What is his name?”
“Kilpatrick.”
Cearnach stared at her, then shook his head.
“What?”
“Which Kilpatrick?”
She didn’t like the sound of this. “Robert.”
Cearnach snorted.
“I take it you don’t like him, either.”
“He’s a lecher.” Cearnach glanced at her. “He’s the man who was practically sitting in your lap at the church. You must have noticed.”
She gaped at Cearnach, then frowned as he continued to watch the road. “Which one was he?”
“Both are Kilpatricks. The one sitting on your right was Robert. What does he want with you?”
She hesitated to say. It really was none of his business. But what difference did it make at this point? The whole situation was odd. If Robert had the wedding to get to, he hadn’t allotted much time for their meeting. She wondered why not. What was Robert planning? Clearly he had chosen their meeting place to keep her far away from the rest of his family. The truth was bound to come out—to an extent. “He’s…” Then she saw the humor in the whole situation and started to laugh.
Cearnach’s fierce expression didn’t change.
“He’s a distant cousin.” She gave a little shrug, loving the irony. Robert would be horrified to realize he had tried to come on to her when she was distantly related to him. “Wouldn’t he be surprised to learn that if he’s thinking I’m available or something.”
“Distant cousin? How distant?” Cearnach asked, not sounding as though he saw the humor.
“By a couple of marriages. Maybe four times removed? I don’t know for sure.”
“Then he could still want you.”
She wrinkled her nose at Cearnach. “This is strictly a business deal.” If the man wanted her, it would only be to gain the rest of the loot through a mating.
Cearnach frowned back at her. “Doing business with the Kilpatricks can get you into a lot of hot water. In the old days, they were smugglers, pirates. They haven’t changed much since then.”
Her blood chilled. He was bound to make the connection between her and her uncles. She noted the irritated tone in his voice and suspected that Cearnach’s family members were probably the epitome of law-abiding citizens.
Since werewolves lived such long lives, her maternal grandfather had been a pirate and had hidden treasure in the Everglades. She suspected her parents had laundered the money from the ill-gotten gains in the tavern and lodgings they rented out and maybe had been involved in their own illegal schemes. Then Kelly Rafferty had taken over.
“What exactly is the business arrangement with Kilpatrick?” Cearnach asked, the car’s tires slipping on the wet pavement. He took his foot off the gas.