A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,5

wedding, while letting the driver sleep the liquor off in the backseat.

When the driver’s door opened, a long-legged brunette stepped out of the car. He had a hell of a time shifting his gaze from those shapely legs and a pair of sexy high-heeled pumps—her clingy red dress having risen to mid-thigh before it settled lower—to see how good the rest of her looked. Especially since he’d expected some sloppy-drunk male type.

Seeing a woman instead, one hell of a shapely woman, he hesitated, and the anger quelled in an instant.

His gaze traveled upward to take in the rest of the package. The wind blowing in her direction forced the dress’s red slinky fabric to cling to her shapely legs, hips, and everything in between. The dress screamed hot and available. At least to him.

The neckline wasn’t all that low, just enough to show off the swell of her breasts, but her reaction to his perusing her was what made him direct his attention upward while he bit back a smile. She folded her arms beneath her breasts, lifting them a little and making him wish he could do the honors, and then she let out an annoyed huff of breath.

More than anything, he loved her reaction and wasn’t beyond pushing her a bit after she’d forced him off the road and ruined two of his tires.

“Done looking?” she asked. The hint of sarcasm amused him when he should still have been furious about what she’d done to his vehicle.

She was American, not a Scottish lass, which meant she was trouble if she was anything like his brothers Ian and Duncan’s mates, except both of the women were wolves—Julia of the red wolf variety, and Shelley, a gray.

“All right,” she said, now sounding really annoyed. “I get it. You’re a big, bad Highland warrior type of wolf, and you have to present this image…”

She knew he was a wolf?

Only one way she’d know that. She smelled his wolf scent. Only one way she could do that. She was also a wolf. He didn’t hear the rest of her words as his gaze shot up to her face.

Her eyes widened, giving her a startled look as she met his gaze.

She was beautiful and elegant, not just the sweet and innocent bonny girl who lives in the cottage next door, but vibrant and ultra-sexy with dark brown eyes—granted, narrowed at him—and lush black lashes, high cheekbones, and full lips that were any man’s wet dream.

After getting over his initial shock, he crowded her as a wolf would, checking her out, sensing her response to him, learning if she truly was a wolf. She nearly folded into the car, trying to back away from him. He seized her arm to keep her close and moved his face in to get a good whiff of her. The wind was blowing in her direction, carrying his scent to her but hers away from him.

But being this close, he smelled her. She-wolf. Gray. A hint of a seductive floral fragrance.

He took in another breath, attempting to learn how she felt about him, trying to see if she was angered, intrigued, scared. Any strong emotions would be revealed in her scent. He frowned. She smelled familiar somehow. From the scent he gathered from her, she was angered, intrigued, and a wee bit scared. Just as she should be around an imposing Highlander of the Old World like he was.

“Bloody hell,” he said, quickly releasing her, not wanting to feel any interest in the lass. But he continued to remain in her space, continued to suck in the air around her, continued to enjoy the essence of the wolf. He couldn’t help it. When a female was this enticing, he was all male wolf.

Then again, something more about the woman intrigued him. She was not friendly, more irritated than anything, and he figured if she had a sgian dubh, the traditional knife worn with a kilt, hidden in that clingy creation, she would force him to back off. She slipped her hands between them and touched his chest in a way that said, “Back off,” as if she thought she could keep him at bay.

He swore the heat from her hands seared him right through his Prince Charlie jacket, vest, and white shirt, all the way to his bare chest.

She was a wolf with attitude and a total turn-on.

Large brown eyes gazed at him like a wolf who could read his every thought, every bit as welcoming and seductive