A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,59
his voice a growl, “damn you. Stay out of this guest room. Leave the lass alone.”
Flynn? She hadn’t remembered meeting anyone by that name.
“No one else is here. I would have noticed if he opened the door and left,” Elaine said. Then she frowned. “Unless you have secret passages in the castle. A secret paneled entrance into the room.”
That’s when she looked around at the walls again and wondered if a secret entrance was hidden behind one of the tapestries.
“You didn’t tell her about him, did you, Cearnach?” Duncan’s tone was a warning, and she didn’t like the sound of it.
“Flynn MacNeill’s a ghost, one of our cousins, Elaine. He has a passion for dallying with the ladies,” Cearnach explained. Then he looked at the ceiling and said in a voice rough with barely controlled anger, “Flynn, if you weren’t already dead…”
“Remind him that we can always hire someone to do an exorcism,” Ian said.
“He’s harmless, although he annoys the lassies sometimes.” Duncan waved his sword around as if he was slicing the ghost in two anyway. “Did you want anything from the kitchen, lass? A glass of milk to help you sleep?”
A ghost? She didn’t believe in such things, though she tried to always keep an open mind. She shook her head and rubbed her arms, feeling the goose bumps trailing up and down them.
“Good night, lass, then,” Duncan said. “If he bothers you again, just call out. We’ll chase him away.”
“Thank you, Duncan.”
He bowed his head, then left the room.
Guthrie cleared his throat. “Same with me.” Then he stalked out of the room after his brother.
“I’ll take care of her,” Cearnach told Ian, and she realized that since Ian was the pack leader, he felt responsible for her.
Cearnach was clearly showing he was the one who would take care of her as he kept her pressed against his hard—and getting harder—body.
Ian bowed his head slightly, gave Cearnach a look like he’d better be careful with their guest, and exited the bedchamber.
“My room or the guest room?” Cearnach asked.
“What?” She wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, yet he looked damned earnest.
He didn’t let go of her, as if he was her bodyguard now and taking this seriously. “He’s harmless, but he can be persistent if he likes a woman. I’m not leaving you alone. Either you join me in my bed or I join you in yours.”
“What if I sleep with Heather?” Not that she wanted Cearnach’s poor cousin to have to share her bed with a perfect stranger just because of a pesky ghost, if that’s truly what had been harassing her.
Cearnach snorted. “Flynn loves to torment her. If you join her, he might decide to visit the two of you at one time.”
She raised her brows, not sure she believed him. Then she shook her head.
“You don’t want me to stay with you the rest of the night?”
“No, thanks.” Yes, she did. She was afraid to return to bed. Afraid of not being able to fight some unseen ghostly entity, and she feared experiencing the same thing again. But then again, she didn’t feel that sleeping with Cearnach was a safe bet, either. Not until she’d had a good night’s sleep.
“I’ll be all right,” she assured him, not sounding half that sure of herself.
“If you need me, my chamber is just across the hall.”
“All right.” She hesitated to pull away from him and return to the bed. Despite the lamps lighting the room, the bed now looked dark and ominous, and she couldn’t shake loose of the fear that a body that didn’t exist was hiding under her covers.
Cearnach helped her onto the mattress and even tucked her in, which she found endearing. He didn’t act like she was being foolish, even though she couldn’t help feeling that way. If the intruder had been real, it would have been a different story.
“Do you want me to wait with you until you fall asleep?”
She shook her head no. She wasn’t a child, even though she was feeling like one now. Yet, she appreciated the way he and his brothers had treated her—as though she had nothing to fear, and they didn’t think she was crazy—and that they were at her beck and call, no matter what.
“I’ll see you in the morning, then.” He kissed her on the cheek, squeezed her hand, pulled the curtain shut, and then retreated from the room.
The door gave a soft thunk as it closed.
She snuggled under the covers, feeling suddenly isolated,