***

Ian had never been with a woman so utterly sexually responsive. Ghleanna had been so unreservedly cold to him that he had barely believed it when he’d caught Flynn with her, both bare-arsed in the woods, doing a hell of a lot more than kissing. He’d banished Flynn from the clan, returned his not so bonny bride-to-be to her da, and sworn never again to fall into that trap with another human female, no matter how titled or wealthy she was. But Julia was a sexy wolf siren.

Ian let out his breath as he carried her to the woods. He hadn’t planned on letting things get out of hand, just on taking the dogs for a walk and asking her about the car accident. He knew from the glint in Guthrie’s eye that his brother had discovered something interesting about Miss Julia Wildthorn. And he wanted to learn what it was as soon as he could. They certainly didn’t need any further trouble in the clan.

In the meantime, he hadn’t meant to give in to the strong-willed fascination he had for the lass. Yet alone in the wilderness and seeing the way she had enjoyed the hike—despite the pain her ankle must have been giving her, as evidenced by the swelling—and the excitement she’d exhibited about witnessing the falls, he felt like a youthful lad all over again, perceiving everything in a thrilling new way. She moved him in ways no one else had ever done.

He laid her down on the pine needle and leafy cushioned forest floor and considered her flushed face, her eyes and mouth faintly smiling, more in blissful satisfaction than amusement. The lass was bonny and desirable, and as much as he hated to admit it, he’d been unable to help wanting her from the moment he’d started tracking her down in the woods earlier, his prey, his claim, and later when he’d seen her in the pub. Thinking she was human had made all the difference in the world.

A wolf—that was another story. But once they’d reached the falls, and she’d sat down and begun removing her shoes…

That was it. He didn’t want to stop there. With the utmost control, he’d managed not to kiss her, knowing she wanted him to as much as he desired kissing her back. But he also knew it would go much further than that if he gave into temptation.

He’d wanted to see her ankle, knowing it was hurting by the way she leaned into him and the way her breath caught when she took a step on several occasions, but he didn’t trust her to tell him the truth. The problem was that once he’d removed her sock, he hadn’t wanted to end it there. The longing in her eyes told him she hadn’t wanted him to, either. Then the kiss happened, and again, he’d struggled with controlling the outcome. Tried to keep from giving in to desire so strong that he didn’t believe he could suppress it once they’d started down that rocky road.

So he had done the next best thing he could, abruptly cutting off the kiss and carrying her into the water, hoping to chill both their desires. But losing all restraint, he had brought her to climax. Hell, he’d really thought he had everything under control.

At least he had left her clothed for the most part, but that hadn’t stopped his craving for her and certainly her delicious response to his touch hadn’t curbed his appetite for her, either.

He thought to lie with her in the woods, allowing her some time to rest her ankle and so that his arousal would have time to settle down, but as soon as he lay down and then pulled her into his arms and pillowed her head against his chest, she began stroking his erection through his trousers.

Losh. He’d never had anyone bring him to near completion when he was still wearing his clothes. With her hand on his trousers, she stroked him through the fabric, and he fisted his hand in her hair. He groaned with ravenous need, felt her silky hair in his tight grip, and saw through a lust-filled haze that her green eyes watched him, judging the way her touch made him feel and using that to guide her. But then she unfastened his zipper and slid her fingers down his rigid length through the boxer shorts, found the fly opening, and exposed him to the cool air. Her touch was enough to make him lose any reasonable thought.

Her hand continued to work its magic, except now, skin to skin, every stroke, every heated touch, firm and steady and determined, made him silently beg for more. She slipped her leg over his thigh as if opening herself up to him again, which brought unbidden notions to mind—of peeling off her trousers and her panties, and getting on with the business of pleasuring her all over again. But then she kissed his mouth, pressing her tongue between his lips, and he moaned with feral hunger. He released her hair, slid his hand down her back, and cupped her arse, wanting to do more as her hand continued to firmly stroke him.

Until he couldn’t hold back any longer. He closed his eyes to savor the sensation, a tidal wave of need rushing through him, before the most earth-shattering release shook him to the core.

Cursing in Gaelic under his breath, he pulled Julia into his arms and kissed her hard against the mouth. She responded with a faint moan, her mouth desirous, yielding and softening against his. He wanted to hold her and kiss her and take her for his own—a woman he didn’t know, who had only wanted him in the heat of the moment but couldn’t possibly be interested in anything further than a little wolf intimacy.

“I’ll return,” he said, his voice husky and strained as he gently laid her back against the ground. “Stay here.” He couldn’t help making comparisons between the little red wolf and his betrothed. Was it the wolf in Julia that had made her respond so willingly to him?

But then again he was reminded of how Ghleanna had responded to his cousin’s sexual overtures just as amorously. Too many years had passed to stew over that; nonetheless, he still couldn’t help feeling Flynn’s death was due to his own anger over the incident.

Yet, Ian couldn’t explain the craving he had for Julia, either. He’d felt obligated to please Ghleanna. He also wanted to please Julia, but only because he found so much pleasure in her company, not because he saw it as an obligation.

At the water’s edge, he cleaned up and then returned to Julia who was lying on her back, her eyes closed, her arms wrapped around her waist, shivering slightly but bonny indeed. He still intended for her to rest her ankle before the long trek back. Lying down beside her, he pulled her into his arms, and she snuggled against him, willing, enticing—and damn if he didn’t want her all over again.

Their fur wet, the dogs curled up nearby, waiting for him to give the word that they would be returning home. But he didn’t want to return home. Not when he had the little red wolf in his arms like this.

Hell, forget just dining with him. She was staying the night.

Julia loved resting against the braw Scotsman, his arms wrapped around her, his breathing steady, his body hard and warm and protective. The air grew chillier, yet she wouldn’t give up cuddling with Ian in the woods like this for anything while listening to the melodic rush of the falls, the breeze stirring the pine needles, and the sound of Ian’s blood pumping through his heart. Not until he said it was time to go.

She wanted the moment to last forever. To envision it for her book. To sleep with him in her dreams after she returned to the cottage she was sharing with Maria.

She sighed, not wanting to return to the castle and have to face Ian’s brothers, who would most likely tease him mercilessly about his walk with her in the woods when she was gone. Or maybe they would be careful with what they said to him since he was laird. That made her want to know more about his relationship with his brothers. For her story. Having never had any siblings, she thought it would be good to take a few notes concerning their rapport with one another.

She closed her eyes. She’d had unconsummated sex with a Highland laird. His brothers probably all knew what Ian had on his mind. She’d been hopeful he wanted a little afternoon delight, even if it was early evening, but she hadn’t really believed he’d go very far. Some wolves would not, not unless they planned on taking the other for their mate.

She let out her breath. After tonight, she could never go back to feeling the same way toward Ian or his kin. They were real people, not just names in an email or a disembodied voice on the phone or a lifeless representation of someone in a photo. How could she sneak around the castle trying to locate her family’s box behind the MacNeills’ backs?

She couldn’t. She’d just have to call her grandfather and tell him she couldn’t do it.

Ian’s hand finally caressed her hair, and he leaned down and kissed her head. “You’re shivering, lass. Are you ready for dinner?”

“Hmm. I imagine everyone’s eaten already.” Then she groaned. “They wouldn’t have waited for your return, would they have?”

“No. They know better.”

That made her again wonder if they knew what he’d planned with her. On the other hand, he had tried to resist—and probably would have, if she hadn’t pushed the issue.

He rose from the ground, inspected her foot, frowned, and then pulled on her left sock and shoe on her foot, but not her right. She thought she’d be fine, but he shook his head and handed her the other shoe and sock. “Hold onto these.”

“What? You can’t carry me all the way back to the castle.” She felt awful. Just to see the falls, she’d put him in this predicament.

“Here,” Ian said. “Climb onto my back.”

“Ride piggyback?” she asked, horrified. “Help me on with my sock and boot. I can manage.”

“You’re not walking all the way to the castle, lass. Do you think I can’t handle it?”

“No. It’s just that I’m heavy and—”

“Heavy? As heavy as a pillow of goose down. Climb on.” He leaned over for her.

She hesitated. “It’s a long way back. If I’d realized how far it was and that my ankle would be giving me fits, I would never have come here.” She slipped on her sock so her foot wouldn’t be so cold.

He gave her a dark smile, lifted her boot from her hands, and tied the laces around his belt loop in front. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. We have four choices. You can ride on my shoulders, on my back, in my arms, or be tossed over one shoulder. Any will work for me. Your choice. But walking isn’t one of them.”