Her disconsolate voice and expression struck a deep chord. “He’s a sick bastard. We’ve been fighting each other for centuries. We’ll fight for centuries more.” If Ian didn’t kill him first. Ian rubbed her back with a touch that was both possessive and tender, wanting to return her to the safety of his castle where no one like Basil Sutherland could ever reach her. Then he swore under his breath and drew her into his arms and held her tight. “Forgive me, Julia, for thinking anything ill of you.”


The box and its contents held no real interest for him. Julia was all he cared about. When he thought she couldn’t be his, that she was another man’s woman, he’d felt his whole world crumble. And he realized then how this wasn’t anything like what had happened with Ghleanna’s deceit. He hadn’t cared about her. Hadn’t loved her.


He looked down at Julia, her face lifted up to him, her eyes gazing at his mouth, now grim, his brow furrowed.


And then she kissed him. The kiss was sweet and unassuming and sealed a promise. If he read it right, there was no one else in her life. She could be his. And damned if he didn’t want her. He kissed her lightly back, but he wanted to return her to the castle forthwith, not wanting to do anything here with her after what had already happened.


“We’ve missed supper. We’ll return to the castle and eat, and then we’ll look for that box.” Still feeling bad about what he’d suspected had happened between Sutherland and her, even though he had been trying damned hard not to jump to conclusions, he tried to cheer her with another hug and a smile.


She seemed reserved, and then he wondered if she was still worried about Sutherland and his bullying. She had every right to be. But he didn’t believe the bastard would do anything now. Not if he hadn’t already.


Ian led her outside, vowing to put a stop to Basil Sutherland’s games one last time.


Her heart still in her throat, Julia felt the change in Ian’s demeanor. He was loving toward her again, his hand around her waist, possessive, caring, wanting. She had no doubt the notion he had that she had been with this Sutherland had pained Ian. And she didn’t blame him for believing the worst of it, because under the circumstances it would have looked pretty damning.


Yet Ian seemed a little preoccupied, worried maybe, and she wondered if it had to do with Sutherland being close by, so she didn’t say anything and followed Ian’s lead. They weren’t far from the castle, only about a mile away if they cut through the trees, and as fast as the horse moved, they’d be there in no time. Yet, she couldn’t help feeling a little cold, a little anxious, a little scared.


Ian locked the cottage, untethered Rogue, and then mounted him and pulled Julia up behind himself. He tightened her arms around him. “Hold on tight, lass. We’ll be at the castle in a few minutes.”


Again, she felt the tension in Ian’s body. It wasn’t directed at her, she didn’t think, But Ian seemed to have some concern about Sutherland and where he was at present.


She glanced around the forest but didn’t see any sign of anyone. She lifted her nose and sampled the air, but only smelled Ian’s delightful scent, the horse, oiled leather, the piney woods, and a hint of rain in the atmosphere.


Even so, she kept a wary watch for any movement. If the man would cause their car wreck, what else was he capable of?


As soon as Rogue cantered through the forest, the quickest route to the castle, Ian sensed his horse tensing, nervous, and shying away from shadows. Ian sat taller, studying the trees.


Julia tightened her arms further around him and whispered, “I smell a wolf. No,” she said, squeezing harder, sounding scared, “two wolves.”


Ian pulled his phone from his belt, but four wolves dashed toward them, materializing out of the pines. Rogue shied, whinnied, and suddenly reared. Julia screamed and slid off the horse’s rump, landing hard on the ground with a thud. Ian’s heart dropped when he lost Julia. Snarling, the wolves went after Rogue.


Ian jumped off the horse, slapped him on the rump, and hollered, “Home!”


The horse bolted for the castle.


Seeing that Julia was unharmed, Ian searched for the blasted phone he’d dropped. As soon as he located it in the pine needles and leaves, he went for it. A wolf crept closer, ears flattening back, mouth snarling, showing off the extent of his wicked canines. None of the wolves here was Basil. Damn him.


Giving up on the phone, Ian began ripping off his clothes. Julia scrambled for the phone, managed to jerk it up, flipped it open, and punched a button.


“Help! We’re in the woods. Four wolves attacking.”


The wolf pounced on Julia, knocking her flat on her back. She screamed.


Ian’s heart nearly stopped.


His people would have heard her scream. They’d see the horse galloping riderless back into the outer bailey. Someone had to have gotten her phone message. They’d send help. But for now?


They were on their own.


Filled with rage, Ian shape-shifted as fast as possible and faced down the wolf that had knocked Julia onto her back. He didn’t want her to shape-shift and attempt to fight any of the wolves, not with being a smaller red against the heavier gray males.


Snarling and growling, the other three drew closer to join their buddy, all wrinkling their noses and looking ferocious. Shouts from the castle were already reaching Ian. In part, the shouts were to gather the men, but in part it was a way to let the wolves know Ian’s pack was on its way, so the other wolves should leave before there was bloodshed.


Ian was intent on watching the wolves for the smallest twitch of a muscle to indicate they were readying to lunge, so he heard, rather than saw, Julia yanking off her clothes. Hell. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the wolves. Damned if they turned their attention on her, though.


He charged the closest wolf, and with his teeth bared, Ian grabbed for his neck. The wolf yelped and tried to dodge away from Ian’s sharp teeth. But Ian was too fast, too determined, and too damned angry. No wolf of the Sutherland clan attacked his soon-to-be-mate or trespassed on his land without paying for the transgression.


His neck bleeding, the wolf finally jerked free. He ran a short distance away, head bowed, panting, ears flat. The other three stood their ground. Until they heard shouts in the woods and something like the sound of horses galloping toward them. Ian knew his men had unleashed the wolfhounds.


At the feel of the earth trembling and the dogs barking and his men shouting to locate Ian and Julia, the wolves backed off and then turned and vanished into the foliage. Ian nudged Julia with his nose, comforting her in their wolf way.


“Hell,” Cearnach said, riding Rogue back to the scene of the fight. “I hope you took a good chunk out of Basil again.” He leapt down from the horse and eyed Julia.


She growled at him, and he smiled back.


“Glad to see you’re all right, too, lass.”


It appeared Julia wasn’t about to let Cearnach get by without an apology. Ian didn’t blame her.


Not willing to shape-shift again in the event some of the film crew had followed his men here, Ian nudged Julia to run with him. At any other time, they’d have had no trouble returning to the castle in their wolf forms. But now that it was overrun with humans?


Hell, Ian was relegated to shape-shifting out here, which could prove disastrous, or going in the back door as if he was a servant.


He trotted alongside Julia through the woods as Cearnach gathered their clothes, remounted the horse, and then followed with the wolfhounds and several of their men. For safety’s sake.


Ian glanced back at the woods with one thought: Basil Sutherland would pay.


Chapter 18


Here’s where the postern gate is located, Julia thought, after wondering earlier how easy it would have been to sneak in this way. Two burly Highland guards were posted at the entryway, and she realized she couldn’t have slipped in sight unseen, if she’d tried before.


Adrenaline still ran high through her veins, as she and Ian dashed inside the castle walls as wolves, their tails like bushy flags, their gait strong and hurried. Cearnach led the way on horseback, making sure none of the film crew was about to see Julia and Ian running onto the castle grounds as wolves. Still in human form, more of Ian’s men were sprinting to catch up as they protected Julia and Ian from the rear in the event Sutherland’s men tried anything more.


Back home, she’d never had trouble with werewolf packs. None had lived near them. It made her realize just how peaceful life with her family had been with just a grandfather and father. Her family was an oddity, really. But they had raised her that way after her mother and the rest of her grandparents had perished. Julia didn’t have any siblings, and with no pack or pack fights or squabbles over territory, she really had been rather isolated from the usual pack dynamics.


Although instinctually she knew what to do.


Ian hadn’t wanted her to shift, but he had to realize she would have fought the wolves if necessary, and that as a wolf she’d have had a better chance at aiding him against other wolves than as a human. That she wouldn’t have let him fend for himself.


Even though she’d never fought any wolves before, the instinct was inborn to protect her own pack, and with a strange realization, she became aware that she’d readily adopted Ian and his pack.


She and Ian darted through the garden and ended up at the kitchen’s back door. A woman’s face appeared in the window of the door, her eyes widening, and she quickly jerked the door open and let them inside. She was pretty, a taller female like the grays were, with dark hair like Ian’s and dark inquisitive eyes. Her studied gaze shifted from Ian to Julia.


She was about Julia’s age and smiled brightly at her. She greeted Ian, and then she said to Julia, “I’m Heather MacNeill, the laird’s cousin, and you must be the famous author. I’ve got every one of your books. Will you autograph them for me? After you’ve shape-shifted, of course.” She grinned again.


Maria burst through the kitchen door, tugging away from a red-faced Duncan, her own cheeks flushed with color. “Where is—” She stopped, fixed her gaze on Julia, and took a ragged breath. “Oh, Julia, the whole place went crazy when Cearnach got your call. We heard your screams, and the horse tore into the courtyard like a crazed animal. And… and Harold fired you.” She glared at Duncan, wagging an accusing finger at him. “He told Harold you’d trespassed on the property last night. And Harold went and fired you.”