A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,57

behaved as a human among their kind, she was always well aware that she wasn’t one. That her senses were so much more attuned, that she could detect emotions and feelings just from their scents. That the wolfish side of her had to be controlled when she got angry, and she’d want to shift and show them her teeth.

That she had to run as a wolf from time to time, to enjoy nature as her other half. The halves were what made her whole—one didn’t exist without the other. She was wolf and human all in one. For the first time in a very long time, she enjoyed being with others of her kind who could understand just how she felt, who could look deep into her soul like she could into theirs. They were equals, not all that different from her.

Even his mother—what a surprise it was that she wanted Elaine to become part of their pack. She knew the woman hadn’t said so lightly. That felt comforting in an odd way.

Yet, Elaine had to keep herself from falling into a false sense of security, remembering that they were family and she was still an outsider, kin to an enemy clan.

Sighing deeply, she removed her clothes and slipped into the borrowed, silky, pale blue nightgown sitting atop the dresser that made her feel like a fairy princess. A lace-trimmed bodice dipped low, showing the swell of her breasts. Long flowing sleeves trimmed with lace tickled her knuckles. An ankle-length edging trimmed with lace swished as she walked.

The fabric was opaque enough for modesty, although when she glimpsed herself in a gold-gilded mirror, she noted that her nipples stood out against the material. She swirled around, loving the luxurious, silky feel of the gown, feeling sexier than if she’d just climbed into bed naked, which was how she usually slept—like most wolves did.

The fatigue catching up to her again, she climbed onto the bed and pulled the bed curtains closed, then slipped underneath the burgundy covers. The comforter was velvety soft, covered in rich, gold floral embroidery, warm and comforting as she burrowed beneath it. The sheets smelled like they had been washed in sweet fragrant roses, and she breathed in deeply to enjoy the scent.

She felt small and pretty and at home in this huge bed. What would have made it even better was Cearnach sleeping with her here. Not sleeping. Making love.

Then her thoughts turned to meeting Cearnach again after all these years, how she’d felt about his offer of assistance so long ago, wishing he could have helped her, and wondering what would have happened had she accepted it. How different might her life have been if she had stayed with Cearnach back then?

Now he was offering to assist her again, protecting her against her kin while attempting to help her locate the goods her uncles had hidden away.

She couldn’t avoid thinking about the heat that had erupted between them and the desire to do something about it.

She sighed and closed her eyes in the dark room, needing to sleep, not believing she could shut off thoughts of Cearnach kissing her in the car… how his tongue had danced with hers, the way he let her set the boundaries yet was so enraptured in the kiss that he’d quickly become the aggressor—passionate, craving more, just like she had.

Now tonight, kissing him again had felt just as right. She knew he was having as difficult a time reeling in his desire as she had with him. She suspected they would become mates sooner rather than later. As long as he didn’t change his mind, or someone or something didn’t change it for him.

With a heavy sigh and forcing herself to push away the images of Cearnach and what she had to do concerning her cousins, she finally succumbed to sleep.

Only to be awakened a couple of hours later by a soft, whispered breath touching her cheek. She tried to ignore the sensation. Tried to tell herself she was dreaming.

“Elaine,” a male voice whispered, the voice so disembodied, so wispy, so soft that she didn’t pay any attention to it.

She was so tired that she assumed it was her imagination in her partly dream-filled, slightly inebriated consciousness.

Until a chilly hand brushed over her silk-covered breast.

Chapter 14

Lying on her side, Elaine woke enough to realize the man’s hand that had felt her up wasn’t a dream. Heart pounding, she jerked her head around to see who it was, expecting Cearnach