Werewolf in Seattle: A Wild About You Novel (36 page)

Guests, including his mother and brother, buzzed
around her like bees seeking nectar. Colin understood. He wanted to do the same, but he resisted the urge. Later tonight he would have his turn. He could wait.

Hector, looking sporty in a polo shirt and crisp navy slacks, sauntered over to where Colin stood. “So she talked you into wearing your kilt, I see.”

“Aye.” Colin didn’t add that Luna could talk him into anything, anything at all. Hector probably knew that already. “Thank you for agreeing to mingle with the guests. I know it’s not your favorite thing to do.”

Hector chuckled. “It seems to mean a lot to her. And it’s not so bad. In fact, it’s good to see how some of those boys turned out.”

“Hors d’oeuvres, gentlemen?” Dulcie, dressed in a sequined top and tight white pants, appeared bearing a tray of bite-sized delicacies Janet had spent the afternoon creating.

“Thanks, Dulcie.” Colin picked up a still-warm pastry that oozed fragrant cheese.

Hector helped himself to a cracker with a swirled topping. “Don’t mind if I do.” Then he reached down with his free hand and pinched Dulcie’s bottom.

“Hector, you old reprobate!” Dulcie pretended outrage, but her color was high and her eyes sparkled.

“Catch you later, Dulce.” Hector winked at her.

“Only if you’re fast enough, Hec.” She walked away, hips swaying.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t see that,” Colin said.

“Hell, at my age, I don’t care who sees it. I’m just grateful that I still have lead in my pencil.”

Colin almost choked on his cheese-filled pastry.

“Don’t hurt yourself, son.”

“Right.” Colin swallowed the last of the pastry and wiped the moisture from his eyes.

“By the way, I’m also grateful that you and Luna
haven’t instituted any rules against fraternizing among the staff members.”

“Would it matter if we did?”

Hector shrugged. “Not really. We’d just get sneaky about it.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“The dynamic around here is better, now that Dulcie and I have something going. Sexual frustration makes folks cranky. I do believe I suffered from that problem a bit, although I doubt anyone noticed.”

“I doubt they did.” Colin controlled the urge to laugh. The rest of the staff was overjoyed that prickly Hector had been replaced by mellow Hector. Dulcie seemed quite happy with the turn of events, too.

“It’s all coming together,” Hector said. “Sybil’s ready to take over temporarily when you and Luna are in Scotland, and Janet gets a kick out of bossing around her new recruits in the kitchen.” He paused. “Geraldine would have loved this.”

Luna walked over, smiling as she approached. “What would Geraldine have loved?”

“All of it.” Hector swept an arm to encompass a landscape filled with cheerful guests against a backdrop of green grass, flowers, the bright sea, and a magnificent castle. “She intended to fill this place with family, and when that didn’t happen, I don’t think she knew how to correct the situation.” He gazed at Luna. “But you did.”

Luna flushed with obvious pleasure. “Thank the Laird of Glenbarra for taking a chance on me.”

Colin knew an opening when he heard one. Walking toward her, he held out his hand. “And I want to thank the Lady of Glenbarra for taking an even bigger chance… ” He drew her close. “On me.”

“Ah, go ahead and kiss her,” Hector said. “It’ll do you both good.”

“I believe it will, at that.” Leaning down, Colin savored the sweetness of Luna’s mouth for as long as he dared. Then he drew back. “Later, lass.”

With a knowing smile, she returned to her guests.

“See?” Hector gave him a sly wink. “Nice to know you have lead in your pencil, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Colin willed his erection to subside. “Except when you’re wearing a bloody kilt.”

Hector’s laughter was contagious, and soon Colin was laughing with him. Yes, he thought, Geraldine would have loved this. All of it.

Exclusive
Wereworld Celebrity Watch
report by
Angela Sapworthy

To gain an advantage over Duncan MacDowell, do the unexpected, my dear. Meet his flight and disarm him with some old-fashioned Stillman hospitality.

Standing at baggage claim, Kate replayed her grandmother’s words and wished she’d argued against the idea. But Grandma Elizabeth had been totally in love with the thought of Kate standing with a sign and a smile when Duncan arrived to collect his luggage. No accompanying staff, no fancy limo.

Okay, the limo wouldn’t have worked now that the first snow had hit Denver. The storm had begun around noon, dashing hopes that Denver could get through the
month of October without the white stuff. Judging from what had already fallen this afternoon, Kate would need the four-wheel-drive capacity of her Jeep Cherokee to navigate the winding road back to the resort.

The dicey road conditions didn’t bother her. She’d been driving on ice and snow for more than ten years. But meeting Duncan MacDowell face-to-face worried her more than she cared to admit to anyone, least of all her grandmother.

Offering friendly hospitality to the Were she’d called a pig-headed radical who had his head up his ass seemed hypocritical. But treating him like a bitter enemy seemed rude. Online interactions were so much easier. Knowing that Duncan would appear in a matter of minutes had her pacing the baggage claim area.

She’d responded on Sniffer to his arrogant last statement—
Woofers, it’s on #primedforaction
—with her own challenge—
Bring it, Woofers. Howlers
R ready 4 U #firmlyconvinced.
Other Howlers had added equally feisty comments, which had sparked pushback from the Woofers, although nothing had come from Duncan yet.

Thinking of that, Kate checked her cell phone. Sure enough, there was another Sniff from @DuncanMacDowell:
Slippery landing in Denver. Can’t scare a Scotsman/Woofer #Braveheart
.

Kate rolled her eyes. He was so blasted macho, it was sickening. Tucking the printed sign under one arm, she quickly typed a response.
Just don’t get off the plane naked, with your face painted blue.

The response came almost immediately:
How would you know if I did?

She answered with a few rapid taps.
Turns out I’m your ride.

I’m honored.

Sarcastic bastard. She started to type
It wasn’t my idea
and realized that would be ungracious. Her grandmother would disapprove. As she started a new message, she breathed in the scent of masculine Were.

Glancing up, she had no doubt she was eyeballing Duncan MacDowell, in the flesh. Judging from his purposeful stride and intent focus, he’d figured out who she was, too.

“Hello, Kate.”

Hearing his rich baritone for the first time felt surreal after months of online communication. And the brogue. Damn, it was sexy as hell.

“Hello, Duncan.” She kept her tone neutral but pasted on the smile her grandmother had asked of her. “Welcome to Colorado.”

“Thank you.” His sculpted lips curved in an ironic answering smile.

As she looked into his eyes, she was momentarily distracted by how beautiful they were—soft gray and elegantly fringed with dark lashes. She quickly reminded herself of his arrogant attitude and reckless stance regarding Were security. He was ready to risk everything for some crazy Utopian dream.

He regarded her with a heavy-lidded gaze that probably had more to do with jet lag than any attempt to be seductive. Yet it sent an unwanted quiver of sexual awareness through her system anyway.

He was taller than she’d expected. The top of her head reached only to his shoulders. And speaking of shoulders, he had broad, powerful ones, the kind that inspired confidence and marked him as a leader.

His hair was longish and his jaw darkened with new beard growth. He could have shaved on the plane if he’d been so inclined. Obviously he hadn’t troubled himself.

His rumpled appearance only added to his sex appeal, as if he were silently demonstrating how he’d look after
a long night of fabulous lovemaking. She’d read all the nauseating blog comments from his bevy of female admirers, so she’d expected him to be reasonably good-looking. She hadn’t been prepared for gorgeous.

Not that it mattered whether he was an Adonis. His physical attributes didn’t change the threat he posed to the Were way of life. If anything, they made him a more dangerous opponent.

“I can’t say I expected you to meet my plane, lass,” he said.

Now would be the time for her to turn on the hospitality spigot as her grandmother had suggested, but sugary words stuck in her throat. “Maybe I wanted to get a preview of what I will be dealing with this weekend.”

He surveyed her with those bedroom eyes. “You do realize you’re giving me a preview, as well.”

“That depends on how much I allow you to see.” She hadn’t meant that to be a sexual comment, but it sure sounded that way once she’d said it.

His smile widened. “I’m very good at uncovering whatever interests me.”

There was that sexual quiver again. She ignored it. “Considering that we’re on opposite sides of this debate, I can’t imagine I’d be of any interest to you.”

“On the contrary. I’m sure you’ve heard the old saying ‘Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.’”

“I’ve heard it.” But never spoken with a Scottish burr.

“Is that why you came to pick me up?”

“No.” She finally settled on the truth. “I’m here because my grandmother asked me to come. She thought the gesture would disarm you.”

“Oh, it has.” His gray eyes took on a wicked gleam. “It most certainly has.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughed. “I’m not kidding. As tired as I am, I’m easily disarmed, which might have been your grandmother’s plan.”

“Maybe.” Kate decided the time for chit-chat was over. “Listen, we need to get your bags and leave before the snow gets any worse.”

“Right.” Turning, he surveyed the luggage circling the carousel. He walked over, retrieved his suitcase with athletic grace, and returned to her. “Ready.”

He must have been tired, because she managed to talk him into waiting inside the building while she brought the Jeep around. Once they were on their way, he peered past the flapping windshield wipers at the snow that seemed to be flung by a giant hand. “Are you sure it’s safe to drive in this? Maybe we should stop somewhere and wait it out.”

“We’ll be fine.” She wasn’t about to admit that the snowstorm had become nasty enough to intimidate even her. “I’m used to this.”

“If you say so.” Leaning his head against the headrest, he closed his eyes, and within seconds was asleep.