Sal had left the man naked, but his clothes were lying near the first of the twin beds where evidently the man had stripped, then shape-shifted. Hating to bother dressing him, Duncan had jerked the man’s clothes on him, not wanting to carry a naked dead man to Sal’s place. Not that it would have mattered a whole lot if anyone caught him at his task. He would be in a hell of a lot of hot water, no matter what, if anyone discovered him.


In the dark, Duncan trudged through the sand with the man tossed over his shoulder, wanting to wring Sal’s neck. He didn’t need this aggravation. He certainly didn’t want to leave Shelley alone at the house without protection, in case Carlotta had more men on the payroll or Sal was waiting for Duncan to leave her alone while he disposed of the body. The only good thing was that Carlotta probably hadn’t had time to secure another couple of wolf hit men. The dead man might not have informed Carlotta his partner was dead, afraid of what she might do to him next for failing his mission. In which case, she wouldn’t be sending another hit team right away.


With every step Duncan took in the sifting sand—he swore the dead man was getting heavier—he couldn’t quit worrying about Shelley. He vowed he’d make Sal pay.


Before he’d reluctantly left the villa with the dead man slung over his shoulder, Duncan had made sure Shelley had locked and bolted the doors, even though she’d wanted to go with him to run interference if he needed her to. She belonged inside, doors bolted, safe from harm. She told Duncan she’d clean up the mess upstairs before he returned, even though he said he’d take care of it, insisting he didn’t want her to be responsible for it. He meant what he said.


Over the years, he’d had his fair share of battles, seen plenty of dead men, and done his part in cleaning up after the fact. He wasn’t immune to it, but he figured he was much more experienced at it than Shelley. He didn’t want her upset any further than she was already. Despite her saying she was all right with everything that had happened, she hadn’t been.


He admired her for offering to take care of the mess and for wanting to stick with him to protect him. No matter what, though, he didn’t want her forced into a situation where she felt the need to do the protecting.


Damn that bastard Sal. If getting the clan’s money back wasn’t so vitally important, Duncan would kill Sal as soon as he saw the crook again.


When he finally reached Sal’s estate, Duncan realized that when he’d dropped the other body off at Sal’s pool last night, he should have noticed there were no guard dogs barking and no guards roaming the grounds chatting, smoking, and watching. He guessed that was because he had been so bent on dumping the other body without anyone seeing and then getting away from the house.


Surely, Kenneth was staying around the place now that Sal had no one else to guard it. Not that Duncan believed the guy would offer much protection. Duncan tossed the body over the low wall and then catapulted over it. After lifting and carrying the dead man to the pool, he dumped the body in with a splash. Then he propelled himself back over the wall and stalked back across the sand toward the villa. He was already out of sight of Sal’s place when he heard the patio door squeak open.


Sal cursed out loud. “Damn you, Duncan!” Then he turned and shouted, “Kenneth! That son of a bitch did it again! Get the boat ready.”


Duncan smiled smugly, feeling some satisfaction from the whole vile matter. That would teach Sal to leave a dead body in Shelley’s villa.


He wanted to run as a wolf because he could reach the house much faster. But he hadn’t brought a lot of clothes with him on this trip. He couldn’t afford to ditch what he was wearing, especially since he might need to wear the swim trunks again. Having worn just his swimsuit to avoid getting blood on his clothes, he jogged into the ocean, washing off whatever blood he might have gotten on his skin, and then left the water to continue jogging down the beach.


The wind was blowing now, whipping around him with a slight undercurrent of cool mixing with the smell of rain. The clouds that had been building earlier now covered every inch of sky, blocking out the moon, the stars, and every speck of light in the universe. By the time the villa was in sight—with lights on only in the downstairs part of the house and the guest room upstairs dark—a light rain had begun to fall, trickling over his heated skin.


Before he reached the back patio of the villa, the rain was flowing in a mighty torrent. He was soaking wet.


When he was at the back door, he knocked a couple of times. The seconds passed like a lifetime as he worried that something untoward had happened to Shelley. Kenneth and Sal were at Sal’s estate so she couldn’t be in any danger from them. Unless Carlotta had managed to get another goon…


Duncan didn’t have any lock picks with him, but then he remembered Shelley had dead-bolted the door. Maybe she didn’t hear him because of the torrential downpour sliding off the roof onto the granite patio.


The bolt slid open, and she turned the knob and stood before him, one towel wrapped around her body and another around her hair in a turban.


She gave him a worried smile and looked damned sexy. He wanted nothing more than to sweep her up in his arms and take her back to bed. He had to shower first, though, and didn’t plan to touch her until he was truly clean.


Even so, Shelley kissed his lips lightly. She had to know by the way he stood so rigidly just inside the doorway, dripping water on the tile floor, that he couldn’t give in to the lust he always felt when he was around her. He didn’t want to take this any further just yet. She pulled the towel off her body and wrapped it around him, teasing him with the lush sight and fragrant scent of her, when she could just as well have removed the towel from her hair and not given him such an eyeful.


Siren.


He cast her a wicked smile as he wrapped the towel around his waist. That garnered a mischievous smile from her, and then she relocked and bolted the door. “Wait for me in bed. I’ll join you momentarily,” he said, his voice already husky with need.


She sighed and slipped her arm around him as they headed for the bedroom. “I never went to the reserve today. So I need to do some more research tomorrow.”


Plants. He couldn’t believe that she was still thinking about plants after what had happened. On the other hand, maybe they gave her a sense of peace and tranquility, no matter what else was going on. He had to admit that when he ran through the Caledonian Forest back home, he loved being immersed in the wild and nature.


“If you won’t return with my brother to Scotland, we’ll all three go to the reserve.” That was the only way she was going back there, he decided, given the way things were going. He was certain they’d only get worse.


***


Shelley was half asleep when Duncan finally joined her in bed. He’d not only showered and smelled of her tangerine body wash, but he’d called his brother to apprize him of the latest news. She’d heard him talking in the kitchen, unable to make out what he was saying, and nearly drifted off to sleep. At first, his duty to his brother had bothered her, when she felt he really only needed to talk to her since she was here with him and they would face whatever they had to alone.


But when he returned, she realized how much more relaxed he was. Discussing their situation with his brother, who was the pack leader, helped to ease the tension Duncan was feeling. For that, she was grateful. He tugged the covers aside and slid in beside her, pulling the covers back over them as if they were just going to sleep.


There was something sexy about the way he did that, skimming his hand underneath the covers and softly over her belly without seeing what he intended to do next. As if he were sliding his fingers up a nightgown—if she’d worn one—caressing and maneuvering until his fingers touched the underside of a breast and cupped it. She gazed into his beautiful dark eyes and saw the love in them but the worry, too. She smiled wearily up at him, tilted her chin up, and said, “Kiss me, Highlander.”


He actually grinned at her, as if that was the last thing he’d expected her to say and it both amused and pleased him. She knew the latter was true as his hand moved over her breast, molding to it as his lips pressed against hers in a way that said he wanted to block out the whole world and just experience this.


Her hands swept over his back as he leaned closer, his mouth partly open, his tongue slipping over her dry lips and moistening them for another assault. She greedily surrendered, shifting her hands lower until she was cupping his buttocks and squeezing the firm muscles.


His breathing instantly grew ragged, his eyes smokier, his tongue and mouth more insistent. She felt him already on the edge, his cock rigid with arousal as he pressed against her thigh. He was a considerate lover. She knew he wanted them to meld together as one and wouldn’t think of putting his own needs before hers.


He continued to touch her where it counted, her skin sensitive to his caresses, preparing her for his ultimate conquest. His fingers teased her nipple as she ran her fingers lightly over his backside, her touch making him move his fingers lower over the curls between her thighs, parting her feminine lips and stroking her into a fevered pitch.


She moaned against his mouth, his tongue flicking at hers. His fingers stroked her clit faster as her fingers dug into his buttocks. She rocked with the motion, arched against his fingers, trying to quicken the feeling aroused in her.


The sensation felt like the strong rising tide, drawing on strength, building, and promising to carry her away on a sea of ecstasy. The rain pounded on the tile roof, but inside they were warm and dry, except for their exertion and how slick and wet he was making her in preparing her for his penetration. She cried out as she came, her words drowned out by the wind and rain and thunder booming overhead.


As if he couldn’t hold on a second longer or wanted to feel her arousal gripping him with spasms of delight, he centered himself between her legs and pressed forward with a deep thrust that sent her thoughts reeling.


Duncan needed to bury himself in Shelley’s sweet flesh, making her moan with sensuous surrender as he drove in deeply, feeling her inner muscles clamping around his cock in a steady rhythm as if gripping him in welcome. Just hearing her call out his name while the storm raged around them, he felt his own storm-filled thoughts subsiding, given over to her sweet, appealing nature, to the way she surrounded him in silky heat.