His mother was a crafty wolf, always thinking of what would benefit the clan, the pack. She wasn’t impulsive in the least.

“What else, my lady mother? What are you thinking?”

“She knows where our stolen property is hidden. She’s a Hawthorn, niece to those rogue wolves who were pirates. You will help her to locate the stolen goods and keep her safe at the same time.”

Keeping her safe was what he had in mind. And more. But he didn’t like where this was headed as far as the stolen property was concerned.

“The Kilpatricks, who obviously want it, won’t get a farthing, and we’ll keep all of it,” his mother continued.

He frowned.

She quickly said, “Through a mating. We won’t take it away from her. We’ll keep it in the family. It’s ours anyway. You know if they get hold of her, they’ll plan the same thing—to get the stolen goods. Worse”—she cast him a concerned look—“one of their wolves will mate her.”

“Like hell they will. What about her feelings in the matter?”

His mother smiled slyly. “From what you’ve demonstrated, dear boy, you already know what you’re doing in showing everyone in the clan you’ve claimed her. And she… you. No need for you to ask me how it’s done. Of all my sons, I always thought you would be mated first. It’s past time.”

It was true that he’d loved the lassies since he was a wee lad. Ian had been too busy running Argent Castle and the pack once their father had died. Duncan had been much more interested in quelling battles until Shelley walked into his life. Guthrie couldn’t quit thinking about numbers and the pack’s finances. No female wolf in the near future for him.

“She protected you, Cearnach. She stood up for you and risked her own safety. You won’t often find that to be the case. Not when she didn’t know you all that well. In the old days, a woman who could fight her husband’s battles when he had to leave the castle was a real boon to a marriage. Many a castle was kept out of enemy hands because of a wife’s canny wit and, more than that, a backbone and drive enough to make it happen.”

“I’m not running the castle. Ian is.”

She waved her hand in dismissal. “Don’t be so obtuse, Cearnach. You want the girl. Make it happen.” She gave him a wicked smile. “She said you were at fault for ruining your tires.”

He raised his brows.

She nodded. “I have to agree with her. It was your fault. Now go cook something for the lass and make it good. I know she said she wasn’t hungry, but have her eating out of your hands.”

He shook his head. “A mating is for a lifetime.”

“Aye, you think I don’t know that? Everyone can see the way you feel about the woman. I raised you, you know. I probably understand you better than you do yourself. You want her. Don’t you dare deny it. She feels the same for you.”

He let out his breath. “I wanted to give time for us to get to know each other and for her to feel like she was part of the family first.”

His mother scowled. “Don’t give her a chance to get to know the family. She’s mating you, not us. We don’t want family issues to change her mind.”

He laughed. He suspected Elaine might enjoy their family and all its quirks and not be put off by it. Unless his mother had ruined that chance.

His mother smiled. It was a calculating, evil kind of smile. He wasn’t sure what she was up to, but he knew she was planning something. “Lust is only the beginning. You don’t think your father lusted after me until he wore my father down into letting him have me? Of course the feeling was mutual.”

If Cearnach had been human, he might not have wanted to hear the details. As a wolf, he knew his father and mother had been very much in lust and in love. He was glad she’d had so many good years with his father before he died. Though her relationship with Ethan, Shelley’s uncle, wasn’t the same, he thought they were growing closer every day. He’d even witnessed Ethan kissing his mother briefly in the gardens, and she hadn’t even clouted him one. Just turned a rosy pink. Ethan had smiled in his indomitable way.

“Did you treat Elaine as though you wanted her to become one of our pack?” Cearnach asked, frowning.

“Och, Cearnach, you cannot be serious. She doesn’t need my coddling. She’s a fighter—a good one at that. Agnes and I went at her with a two-pronged attack, and she still came out on top.”

He groaned. “You want me to undo the damage? Do you think I’m a miracle worker?” He let out his breath in annoyance.

“I can be the bad guy and you’re her savior.”

Cearnach shook his head. “I think she sees herself in that role.”

His mother chuckled with wry amusement. “Aye, then she can be yours instead.”

He shouldn’t have allowed his mother to speak with Elaine first. “Is that all you wish of me, my mother?”

“Aye, go sweet-talk the lady. I’ll speak with you later.”

Shaking his head, he stalked out of the library and down the hall, wondering just what his mother had said to Elaine during their exchange. He hoped Elaine wasn’t too upset over the whole affair.

Left to their own devices, he figured he and she could work out their relationship just fine. But he had to keep his mother out of it at all costs.

Now it was time to repair the damage.

Chapter 12

Cearnach’s talk with his mother filled Elaine’s thoughts—though she was trying not to think about it—as she walked with Shelley through the great hall where cushioned chairs, sofas, and pillow-covered benches were situated in front of a large fireplace. Flames flickered, casting light against the shadows, the wood crackling and snapping. Elaine felt oddly at home here. She could see the clan gathering here for special activities, particularly when the weather was wet or cold.

Yet her thoughts instantly returned to what was being said between Cearnach and his mother. Did she always rule the roost? More importantly, what she was saying to Cearnach about Elaine now?

As Shelley led her into the kitchen, Elaine was impressed with the newness and size, having expected it to be less than modern and much smaller. But it had to feed a fairly large wolf pack—around thirty or more, she estimated. She wasn’t used to thinking in terms of pack life.

To her surprise, the need to belong to a wolf pack like this one crept into the marrow of her bones. To be understood by others of her kind. To be protected and to protect.

A long honey-oak table was situated next to a wide window overlooking the gardens below, a hedge surrounding them. It made her think of a labyrinth where she could get lost with Cearnach, just strolling and talking like two people on a special date, as small brass lanterns illuminated the paths, a touch of warm yellow light on a dark gray night. The tall hedges hid most of the gardens from view, giving only glimpses into the sectioned-off, outdoor living rooms, making them seem mysterious and intriguing.

The table in the kitchen seated about twelve. Pack members could drop in for a quick meal between working various jobs at the castle and beyond, she assumed. She’d passed through a formal dining room on the way into the kitchen where a dark mahogany table and chairs took center stage. The table would seat around twenty people, and the high-back chairs wore forest-green brocade with braid trim edging the seats. Paintings of local scenery were displayed on the walls, showing snowcapped mountains, dark blue lochs, fields of purple heather and yellow gorse, and the dark green forest.

In the kitchen, racks held glistening stainless-steel serving ladles and pots and pans that hung over a large, freestanding island. All the counters were golden granite flecked with black. Three stainless-steel fridges, two dishwashers, and three ovens filled the kitchen, plus a microwave built into the cabinets on one wall. Elaine couldn’t begin to imagine the chaos that must ensue when everyone came in to eat. Unless the pack ate their meals in shifts.

She’d never considered what it would be like for a working pack to live together on an estate like this. The teasing, the camaraderie, the sharing of stories and jokes and good humor. Used to eating her meals alone in front of a TV screen after work, she thought how nice it would be to actually enjoy wolf company instead.

Shelley poked around in one of the fridges. “I have to admit I never make meals here. When I was back home, I cooked some, but lots of times I just microwaved meals. Here they have a woman who cooks for the pack. When I met Duncan on Grand Cayman Island, he was our chef extraordinaire.

“It’s an ongoing joke. Ian’s brothers say they can’t cook, except maybe to make a pizza if Cook isn’t around. But I caught them all making ham-and-cheese omelets and mimosas one morning when I slept in late and they had missed the morning meal, too. Which meant Cook wasn’t going to fix them breakfast. It also meant that not only can Duncan cook, but so can his older brothers.”

Amused that the brothers played such a game on their pack leader, Elaine smiled. “Do you think Ian really knows the truth?”

“Probably. He seems to know everything that goes on in the castle.”

A pretty brunette hurried into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed, her dark eyes wide. She appeared to be about Shelley and Elaine’s age and smelled of the outdoors, rain, and wind. “Oh, I can’t believe it. I take one night off to visit a girlfriend, and our whole pack is ready to go to war with another pack.”

She smiled brightly at Elaine as if that was a good thing, that she knew who had started it, and she wholeheartedly approved. Then she turned her attention to Shelley. “What are you doing? You don’t cook.”

“Attempting to figure out what Cearnach and Elaine can eat for dinner. I was thinking of making them sandwiches and a salad.”

“I’ll do it. I’m Heather MacNeill, Cearnach’s cousin,” she said, offering her hand to Elaine. She smiled broadly again.

Elaine shook her hand and smiled back. She really hadn’t expected everyone to be so friendly, all but Cearnach’s mother and aunt. They were Old-World Highland nobility and probably thought Elaine was some uncultured, uncouth American nobody.