Highland Werewolf Wedding by Terry Spear

Author:Terry Spear [Spear, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781402266836
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Published: 2013-05-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Elaine woke slowly in Cearnach’s protective and warm embrace, and realized several things at once. She’d actually slept the rest of the night undisturbed. She was relieved that she’d had no more issues with the ghost. But now she was in an untenable position, her gown gathered around her navel, Cearnach’s hand resting on her buttock, and her naked leg locking him in place as if she was a pirate and had captured him, and he was her prisoner. More-than-willing prisoner.

She wanted to keep the fantasy alive. Except she’d exchange the pirate’s cabin bed for this one in the castle, which was much more her style. Rocking on rough seas was not, considering how sick she got when traveling by ship.

He still wore the pair of black boxers, but that didn’t hide the fact he was fully aroused and that she was pressing against that rock-hard erection. She was imagining him entering her, making love to her, mating with her like two wolves would for life. Did he still want to do that with her?

She’d felt his hand slip from her ass, and she’d let out a slight moan in protest, not intending to, trying to pretend she was asleep. It hadn’t worked.

Maybe he was still asleep. She missed having his hand on her skin, feeling sexy and dangerous and ready for more.

She tried to move her leg off him without disturbing him, but as soon as she lifted her leg, he groaned in a half dissatisfied, half husky way. She glanced up at him. He was smiling down at her smugly, his face covered with a shadow of stubble.

“Ahh, lass,” he drawled with his sexy Scottish burr, “seems I chased Flynn away for you last night.”

He ran his hand over her arm, the silky fabric sliding up and down, his touch gentle and loving.

She quickly moved away from him, yanking down the gown so that the hem was around her ankles again. “You… weren’t in on this with your ghostly cousin, were you?”

Cearnach laughed, the sound rich and husky. He reached over, tugging playfully on a length of her hair. She breathed in deeply and smelled his delightful masculine scent. Now her own light scent mixed with his. She never imagined she’d spend the night in a male wolf’s bed when he wasn’t her mate.

She sighed. “Bathroom?”

“In there,” he said, motioning toward her side of the curtained bed.

She sat up and pulled aside the black velvet curtains and for the first time really saw his chamber. One wall was covered with swords and dirks and shields—some old and battle-scarred, some shiny and new. His chamber made her think of an Old World armory that would have been the prized possession of a museum on Scottish weaponry. She thought he should have a suit of mail to make the room complete.

Large, bulky dark oak dressers and armoires filled the room. On top of one, a brass framed picture of Cearnach caught her full attention.

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