Then his attention shifted to Julia, and the furrows in his brow deepened further. A shiver of warning penetrated her bones, but she held his dark gaze, trying to brush off the unwelcome feeling. He didn’t like it that Ian seemed to be interested in her, she figured.

Duncan’s forbidding expression didn’t waver, but he returned his attention to the director, gave a stiff nod, ignored the production manager, turned, and stalked off with his men-at-arms. At least that’s the way Julia considered them, like lethal bodyguards if they’d been in the States, guarding some very important person. Even though he didn’t look like he needed anyone’s protection.

She sighed. She felt at home in Scotland already, despite Duncan’s attitude. Her ties to the Campbell and MacPherson clans through her father’s roots, and the Fraser clan through her mother’s, had stirred an interest in all things Scottish all over again. Everything about the castle felt right as far as the atmosphere, the look of the handsome Scots, and the feel of the stone fortifications with green moss clinging to them and softening their rigid look.

Now, she just had to get inside the keep and take notes about the rest of the place, find the secret niche while she was at it, and she’d be done.

As long as she didn’t get caught.

After standing on the wall walk issuing orders, Laird MacNeill hadn’t even bothered to come down to speak to the production manager. Not even to see her up close, which told her the way of things. Once she was here in the capacity of working with the film crew—at least that’s what he’d assume—she was bad news. Was coming down here to at least meet with the director beneath his lairdship? But how long would that last once the filming began?

She imagined there wasn’t any way Laird MacNeill could control everything that went on during the filming. Would he stand on the castle wall walk, as he did now, way up above with his arms crossed over his broad chest and wearing a mighty scowl while he watched the proceedings? And if things didn’t go as planned, perhaps he would motion to the archers lining the wall walk and a rain of arrows would pour down upon the movie crew.

She had too vivid an imagination.

Miscalculating the human equation, she had falsely assumed the people living here would be excited to have a film produced at their castle and would greet the director with enthusiasm and support. Where movies had been filmed at other castles, websites had proudly proclaimed the fact. Up until now, at every place the film crew had been, the Scots had been generous and friendly. She imagined there would be none of that here. In fact, Maria had said that the MacNeills didn’t even have a website. After doing a little research, Julia had found that the castle had never been open to the public. Under siege and breached a few times during major strife, yes, but never willingly open to the public.

That made her think maybe her family had taken the castle over during a siege. Maybe then they had been overwhelmed at a later date and had to scurry out of there. Not good. If Ian learned about her Scottish roots, would he hold a grudge against her?

She glanced back at the wall walk. Ian MacNeill had stopped to watch them now and hadn’t left the curtain wall as she had thought he would. At first, his attention was on the director, as if he was measuring him, the perceived enemy in his midst. His attention settled next on Julia and caught her gawking back at him. She smiled. Couldn’t help herself.

Ian’s masculine lips parted slightly, and she believed she’d actually surprised him with her smile. Maybe unsettled him a little.

Maria whispered, “Coming, Julia?” She glanced up to see what had gained Julia’s attention. “Hmm, hot stuff. And despite what you say, I think he has a thing for you. Not to mention your interest in him.” She grabbed Julia’s arm. “Come on. The crew is already headed back. The Highlanders watching us look as though they want someone to entertain them tonight.” She motioned to the wall walk. “Think the laird might be good for a tumble?”

Julia laughed, her thoughts running away from her again. “Yeah, really hot stuff,” she murmured. And if she got too close again, she could be scalded. “But definitely not good for a tumble.” In that he was a wolf, and that meant a permanent commitment.

She could just imagine what it would be like to be under the MacNeill’s spell. More of his hot kisses, his hard body pressed against her, his dark, hungry look while he carried her inside the stark castle, but nothing but his heated body would fill her thoughts as she melted against him, wanting so much more.

If he hadn’t been a wolf, she would have been very tempted to have a tumble with him as Maria had suggested. Just to get the feel for one of her more… sexy scenes. For the lupus garou, it was perfectly acceptable to have human lovers before they found their lifelong mate. But he wasn’t strictly human, and as hot as Ian was, she should have guessed he was a wolf.

She shook her head at herself, never having had the need to act out her scenes in real life before she wrote them, until now. It was as though the ties she had to the ancient woods and masonry, to her deep family roots in Scotland, Ireland, and even Wales had never been severed when her people left the region so many centuries ago.

With a lift to her step, she walked back through the gatehouse where not one, but three portcullises kept invaders out.

“I thought they only had one of these iron gates at the entrance to a castle’s outer bailey,” Maria remarked, pointing at one of the gates.

“Some did. But some, like this one, used them to trap invaders in between gates if their enemy was unfortunate to get caught that way.” Julia’s arms prickled as she glanced up at the castle arch above them and pointed to the entryway where gaps in the stone existed above the entrance and along the length of the curtain wall.

“Machicolations, murder holes,” she explained to Maria. “The rectangular openings provided a place for the defenders of the castle to pour boiling water down on their enemies who were attempting to breach their defenses.”

Maria shuddered. “I thought they used boiling oil.”

“Hollywood’s version. It would have cost too much.”

Maria reached out and touched a place on one of the stone walls where repairs had been made to the mortar. “Can you imagine how much this place must cost to heat? Or the upkeep on these old stone fixtures? Every time I turn around, something’s wrong with my condo. And it’s practically new. But can you imagine the expenses in maintaining something this big and ancient?”

“No, not really.” Julia hadn’t given it much thought. “I wonder if the MacNeills are having financial difficulties and that’s the reason they agreed to this venture, albeit reluctantly. But why wouldn’t they open their doors to having bed-and-breakfast kind of affairs or wedding receptions, or both, like some of the other castles or manors are doing? Maybe this is such a short-term endeavor and not so much like a long-term invasive venture, so it seems doable.”

“Yeah, that could be,” Maria agreed.

That softened Julia’s view of the prideful MacNeills a bit since she was having money troubles of her own with her new book delayed by writer’s block.

She glanced over her shoulder and watched Duncan MacNeill walk through the gates of what probably was the innermost bailey. The inner sanctum. From there, he’d go inside the keep. She sure wished she could get inside it without anyone knowing.

Duncan walked with a regal but deadly air, and she imagined he always looked like that. His outward appearance today probably wasn’t anything different from any other day, which made her wonder why he was like that. Character studies intrigued her. They were useful to draw on for her own characters in her books.

But then one of the clansmen stalked toward Duncan, spoke to him, and motioned to Julia. The warrior turned to look in her direction. His expression was dark as his gaze focused on her. Not anyone else, just Julia. Her stomach twisted into a knot.

“Lass!” he shouted at her in a commanding way. He couldn’t know who she truly was or what she planned to do here. He motioned to her to come to him as he quickly ate up the ground with his lengthy stride, heading for her as if he was afraid she’d escape before he reached her.

Heart pounding, she didn’t move an inch in his direction. But she didn’t back away, either.

“What did you do?” Maria whispered, sounding as though she thought Julia was guilty of some crime.

“Nothing,” Julia said back, her skin chilled, her spine stiff, her legs wobbly. “I didn’t get anywhere earlier in my little jaunt through the woods.” They want to interrogate me about running through the woods as a wolf.

The little party of film-crew staff had already made its way through the gatehouse and halfway across the moat. The two muscled men for whom Julia had jotted down descriptions in her notebook followed them outside as if to ensure no one was left behind and that Julia didn’t leave. Both men were eyeing her and Maria with the hint of a smile. One said something to the other, which made the recipient of the dialogue grin and nod, but she assumed the first had spoken in Gaelic because she didn’t understand a word of it.

“Laird MacNeill wants to see you,” Duncan said to Julia as he drew close.

Her lips parted in surprise. She was dying to get inside the castle, but not like this. Secretly, elusively, not under the watchful eye of Ian MacNeill. But then she reconsidered. He probably meant to speak to her in the inner bailey or some such place. Not inside the keep at all.

“Can Maria come with me?” To her ears, she sounded surprisingly cowardly, when she wasn’t normally anything of the sort.

Duncan shook his head. “He asked for you alone.”

“Will you be all right?” Maria sounded worried but kind of thrilled for her, too.

“Yes. I’ll be back in a little while.”

“I could just hang around here and wait for you.”

“It won’t be necessary,” Duncan said gruffly. “We’ll return her home.”

Maria waited for Julia to give her the go-ahead.

“I’ll be back in a while.” Julia’s stomach was flip-flopping all over the place, and she wanted to hold onto something, not the dark warrior beside her as he led her back through the gates and then into the outer bailey, but she really could have used some support.