A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,49
was another story. For the first time ever, she really cared about someone. The spark between them was so intense that she wanted to explore further possibilities. How could she when their families were so at odds?
She took a deep breath. “Your mother…”
“Later,” he said.
The news couldn’t be good.
She tried to concentrate on the gardens, the way the small brass lanterns lighted all the paths, the water glistening on the smooth stones. Yew hedges rose high around the gardens, as massive as stone walls, only bright green and living.
He held her tightly against his side, heating her all the way to her core. Her nose was cold and so were her toes, but the rest of her was heating up just fine.
Hedges sectioned off the various gardens, and she could hear the pleasing sound of water as it spilled over stone fountains into lower basins or into small pools of water. The fountains were visible through vine-covered, wrought-iron trellises or hedges trimmed into living archways. A misty fog draped the area as Cearnach moved her from one garden section of herbs to another with flowers, past a garden with a waterfall, a glass greenhouse, and separate garden rooms for every interest.
She smiled when she saw the building made of glass walls with corner stone towers that mimicked the castle and its towers situated on four corners of the curtain wall. A roof made of skylights showed off the stormy gray night, and the warm, orange flames of the fire beckoned them inside.
She peered through one of the windows as he opened the door. Soft moss-green couches wrapped around the fire pit, connected in a gently curving fashion like a stream winding through woods. Brocade pillows generously embroidered in gold thread with Celtic designs covered the couches, while pots of plants hung from the rafters or sat high above on small shelves beneath the massive windows.
Cearnach escorted her inside where the warmth encircled her, then closed the door and locked it. She raised her brows. He smiled and pressed a few buttons on a panel. Shades began to slide down over the windows.
Her mouth dropped open as she watched the room, which had been bared to the gardens, suddenly become private.
“We can have real privacy here or in my bedchamber.” Cearnach offered to take her coat.
Somehow, she didn’t think either place would be safe.
He helped pull off her coat, then draped it on a coatrack that looked like a wrought-iron, leafless tree.
“We need to talk,” he said with all seriousness, yet his eyes held dark interest, not at all what she would expect if he was going to tell her she needed to leave Argent Castle at the earliest possible moment.
She tried not to stiffen too much as he removed his coat, hung it up, and led her to one of the couches. He sat down with her but not too close, as if he needed to keep his distance.
She sank into the soft cushions, saw a bottle of wine and two glasses set next to it, and thought of the way Heather had been so flushed when she had hurried into the kitchen.
“I take it your mother wants me out of here as quickly as she can manage.”
“Wine?” he asked, already pouring her a glass.
She accepted the glass and sighed before she took a sip. She knew she shouldn’t drink anything after not having eaten for so long. With the meal, fine. Or after the meal. Not before.
For the first time in a long time, though, she felt she needed the fortification, wishing everything could be different between them.
Cearnach studied Elaine as she pressed her lips against the wineglass, recalling when she was so young in St. Andrews. He wondered how innocent she’d truly been. Had she known what her family had worked at? Where they had gotten their wealth?
Not caring what she’d known back then, he shook his head and lifted his glass of wine. “My mother said she wanted me to mate with you.”
Elaine had just taken a sip of wine and choked on it. Sputtering and coughing, she tried to catch her breath, her eyes tearing.
He patted her back, wishing he had waited until after she swallowed the mouthful of wine before he made the comment.
She held up a hand, tears in her eyes, as she indicated she would be all right.
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