A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,58
and not sure how she would react. Angry that he would sneak into her bed. But wanting him, too.
Yet, no one was beside her on the mattress in the dark. As a lupus garou, she could see some in the pitch blackness. A shiver stole up her spine.
With the blood rushing in her ears, she did what any red-blooded woman—whether half wolf or strictly human—would do under the circumstances. She let out an ear-piercing scream to wake everyone in the whole castle.
She scrambled to get out of the bed and away from the intruder. Her feet and legs became tangled in the silky sheets and velvet comforter. Panicked, she twisted and jerked. Freeing herself, she shoved aside the heavy curtains, desperate to get out of the bed where the man had to be hiding under the comforter.
In her haste, forgetting just how high the mattress was, she leaped from the bed, catching a foot in the curtain and the long nightgown, and went down on her knees with a thump.
Ouch! Dull pain radiated through her kneecaps, and she cursed under her breath.
Not wanting her back to the man, she spun around and sat in the dark, staring up at the bed, studying the outline of the draped canopy, listening for any rustling in the sheets or creaking of the box springs.
She saw no movement. Heard no sound.
With her heart racing and her breathing so rapid that it made her light-headed, she watched and waited to see the man clamber out of the bed before the whole household came running.
No one left the bed.
Arrogant bastard!
What was she thinking? She would shift and take care of the intruder herself. Before she could pull off the nightgown, a door across the hall banged against a wall. Footfalls rushed toward her room. Cearnach?
The door to her chamber opened with a whoosh. Cearnach shouted from the threshold, “Elaine!”
His gaze swept the room, searching for her.
“Here,” she said quickly. Warm relief at seeing him washed over her chilled body as he stood in the doorway.
Looming large, silhouetted by the hall light, Cearnach was scowling. He was wearing only black boxers and holding a sword as if he was ready to kill the intruder.
On some wolfish level, she had known he hadn’t been the one touching her. She would have noticed the delicious, tantalizing scent of him. Yet when she thought about that, she realized she hadn’t smelled any sign of a wolf in bed with her. Just the rose-scented sheets.
He hit the light switch with his free hand, momentarily blinding her.
“Are you all right, Elaine?” he asked, his voice dark with concern.
Still sitting on the floor, her aching knees tucked up close to her chest, she squinted in the bright light and pointed at the bed. “Yes, I’m… I’m all right. A man was in there.”
Cearnach rushed forth and yanked the curtains open.
Wearing a plaid haphazardly thrown on, Duncan hurried into the chamber, sword in hand, looking just as dangerous. Ian was right behind him, and Guthrie next, both wearing boxers, both also carrying swords.
She would have laughed to see so many braw Highlanders ready to defend her, but she was still so shaken that she managed only a small smile.
Cearnach shook his head at his brothers, letting them know there was no one in the bed, which was impossible for her to believe.
He reached down and helped Elaine from the floor, then pulled her into his warm, comforting embrace. She realized then just how icy cold the floor had been.
“Are you okay?” he asked again. This time his words were spoken soothingly, not brusque with concern that she might have been injured.
“Yes, I’m okay.”
He brushed the top of her head with a kiss. “What exactly did you see?”
“Nothing. I didn’t see anything. I thought maybe… maybe he was hiding beneath the covers. I felt… I felt a hand touch me.”
“Are you sure you weren’t having a nightmare?” Cearnach sounded more hopeful than certain.
She trembled in his arms, not sure why she was so shaken, when normally not much shook her. The fact she hadn’t seen the man, only felt his icy touch, the way his breath had caressed her ear, the way he’d said her name, unnerved her something awful. She could deal with someone she could see. Not something like this.
The brothers all shared looks, and she suspected they thought she’d been having a nightmare. She knew the man had been real. He had to have been. She couldn’t have dreamed it.