Colin set down his empty martini glass and stood. “I suppose you’re worried about being unprofessional.”
She glanced up at him. The setting sun surrounded him with a golden aura and cast his face in shadow, making him look mysterious and virile. Her heart raced in anticipation, even as she opened her mouth to refuse his request. “I really don’t—”
“One kiss.” He walked over and crouched in front of her, his arms balanced on his knees. “I promise that it will have no effect one way or the other on your proposal. That’s a separate matter, one I will give consideration to tomorrow, when I’ve had sleep and a chance to think about it.”
This close, she could see small golden flecks in the intense blue of his eyes. “Do I have your word on that?”
His voice grew endearingly solemn. “You have the word of a MacDowell.”
“Oh, well, then, if I have the word of a MacDowell, what could go wrong?”
“Nothing, lass.” Putting one hand on her knee, he cupped the back of her head with the other and leaned toward her. “It’s only a wee kiss, and the previous one could use some improvement, don’t you think?” His eyes drifted closed.
“I wouldn’t know. Counting yours, I’ve only had two in my entire life.”
His eyes snapped open and he nearly toppled over as he drew back. “Two?” He regained his balance.
“That’s all.”
He frowned. “Who was the other chap?”
“A stranger. He was staying at the hotel where I worked and caught me in the hallway. It was disgusting, and I got away from him as quick as I could.”
“Kneed him in the privates, then?” Colin sounded hopeful.
“No. I squirmed and fought until he let me go.”
“Pity. That sort could use a well-placed knee.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Just so we’re clear, lass. I’m not that sort.” He leaned toward her again.
“Never thought y’all were.”
“You can close your eyes, now.”
“Oh.” She’d been so fascinated by his mouth descending on hers that she hadn’t wanted to miss a thing. But she’d seen screen kisses and knew eyes were usually closed. Dutifully she closed hers.
“Better.” His breath touched her face.
She breathed in, relishing the heady scent of him—a combination of musk, martini, and an intoxicating aroma that she suspected was exclusive to Colin MacDowell, Laird of Glenbarra.
“When I kiss you, give me some resistance.”
“You want me to resist?” That made no sense.
“No, don’t resist me.” His lips brushed hers once, twice. “But when I apply pressure, you apply some, too.”
Her heart was pounding so fast with excitement that she wondered if she’d pass out. He wouldn’t get any resistance, then, so she’d have to remain conscious. She gulped for air.
“Don’t be nervous.”
“Easy for y’all to say. You’ve done this thousands of times.”
He chuckled. “Hardly.” He nibbled at her lower lip. “You have such a wonderful mouth.”
“Thank you kindly.”
“No, I must thank you for indulging me. Here comes the kiss.”
She held her breath. “Ready.”
“Don’t hold your breath. You’ll faint.”
“This is more complicated than I realized.” She let out her breath. “It looks so easy in the movies.”
“It is easy, once you get the hang of it. Just relax, and when I make contact, give me something back.” His mouth settled over hers.
At first she froze, unable to think, unable to respond at all.
His warm lips moved gently against hers. Tentatively she matched his movements.
“Yes,” he murmured against her mouth. “Like that.”
Made bolder by his praise, she put more energy into making contact. And then, as if ancient wisdom had finally bubbled up within her, she knew what to do. Grasping his head in both hands, she angled her head and took full possession of his mouth.
His low moan of delight told her that she’d figured out this kissing business. His fingers tightened against her scalp and his breathing quickened. She’d succeeded in exciting him, and triumph bloomed in her heart.
Then, when she was congratulating herself on the success of this kiss, he lifted his head just enough to end it.
Her pride plummeted. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Nay. You’re doing everything right. But if you would open your mouth a wee bit…”
“Y’all want to put your tongue in my—”
“Desperately.”
“Okay.” When he resumed kissing her, she slackened her jaw. Surely this would be gross, but she would endure it because Colin wanted to…oh, my. Oh, my.
Now the moan belonged to her as she gave herself up to the decadent sensation of Colin’s tongue stroking the inside of her mouth. Innocent though she was, she understood that this was what sex with him would be like, and she wanted it. The wanting came in a tidal wave that swept aside every thought except one.
Wrenching her mouth from his, she cupped his face, gripping him tightly as her gaze bored into his. “Have sex with me, Colin. Right now.”
“That’s not wise.”
“I don’t care what’s wise! I want to know what it’s—”
“Not now.” He gasped for breath. “Not yet.” As his breathing steadied, he massaged her scalp in a slow, easy motion.
“But I want to!” She’d lost all shame. He’d reduced her to raw, primitive need.
“Give yourself time, lass. If it is to happen between us, and I’m not saying it will, I want to be rested. You deserve more than I’m prepared to give you tonight.”
She threw back her head and groaned in frustration. “Y’all had to go and kiss me!”
“Yes.” He drew her head forward until she was forced to look at him. “I couldn’t let you think that what happened down by the water was a true kiss. I wanted you to know what a real kiss is all about.”
“And as a result, I’m hot and frustrated. Happy, now?”
“Aye. We all need to go through these stages, and you have some catching up to do.” He brushed his mouth over hers one last time and stood. “It’s getting dark. And I need to go to bed before I collapse.”
She drew a long, trembling breath. “Right.” She’d conveniently forgotten that he must be exhausted. But that was partly his fault. He’d started it by wanting to kiss her again.
He held out his hand to help her up. “Let’s go back. We both could use a breather.”
“I guess so.” But she knew what would happen once her rational brain took over. She’d chicken out. If he gave her a chance to think things over, as he was determined to do, she’d never go through with it.
If they’d had sex tonight, she could have blamed her behavior on the charged atmosphere of the occasion. By tomorrow, she’d remember all the reasons why having sex with him was a really bad idea, beginning with the most important one—their potential business relationship.
Tonight could have been her initiation into the wonders of carnal knowledge by someone who seemed to know his way around the subject. Apparently he thought postponing the event would make it better. She wasn’t going to tell him now, but postponing it meant that it wasn’t going to happen at all.
Chapter Six
Colin’s exhaustion was real enough, but that wasn’t his only reason for calling a halt. He had some decisions to make regarding Luna, including the business matter of her inn project, and the personal matter of wanting her with the heat of a thousand suns. Decisions on both matters should be made only after due consideration and not on the spur of the moment.
This lusty attraction had scrambled his wits, which wasn’t a common problem for him. He would like to blame it on jet-lag, but he feared it had to do with the beautiful Were herself. After he staggered to bed, and just before he fell into a dreamless sleep, he vowed to avoid being alone with her again
until he’d sorted out his feelings.
Fortunately he had limited time to be tempted by that deadly combination of innocence and passionate response that had nearly undone him at twilight on Happy Hour Beach. He slept until nearly noon. He barely had time to shower, dress in a cotton long-sleeved shirt and slacks, and grab a quick snack before the real estate agent, Regis Trevelyan, arrived by motor launch. Colin spent the afternoon showing Regis, a graying Were with a slight paunch, around the estate. Late in the afternoon, Colin invited him to stay for dinner.
He asked Luna to join them, and she agreed, but he noticed the rigid set of her jaw every time she looked at Regis. Maybe she thought that Colin had invited him to dinner because they’d signed a contract to list the property. The opposite was true. He’d invited Regis to dinner because the poor chap wouldn’t get the business, after all, and Colin wanted to offer him dinner as a small consolation.
The dining room had never looked better, and Colin gave Luna and her hard-working staff credit for that. Beeswax tapers cast a mellow glow over the dark paneled walls, and flowers graced the center of the table and the sideboards, as well. Luna had pinned her hair up in that sexy, mysterious way known only to women, and had worn a simple ivory dress that outlined her body so deliciously that she was driving him slowly insane.
But that was his personal problem. Even with that distraction to deal with, he could see that she was an excellent hostess. In her hands, Whittier House would flourish as an inn for Weres. He still had to mull over the particulars, but he was increasingly inclined to consider her plan. He’d never really wanted to sell Geraldine’s house, anyway.
“Amazing job on the salmon,” Regis said as Janet cleared the dinner plates.
“Thank you.” Janet beamed at him and continued to gather the empty dishes. She wore a white blouse and navy slacks, which might be her attempt at a uniform.
Colin liked the comfortable informality of the staff’s clothing, which hadn’t changed since the summers he’d spent here years ago. But if Luna intended to set the tone as she’d put it, the staff might have to wear something more formal. “The salmon was great, Janet,” he said. “Thanks for producing it on short notice.”
Janet beamed at him. “Easy-peasy. Haggis would have been a challenge, but planked salmon is a snap.” She glanced over at Regis. “In case you’re wondering, tonight’s meal was a special request of the laird.”
Regis chuckled. “Knocks me out, these fancy foreign titles.” He turned to Colin. “What does a laird do, anyway?”
“It’s not that much different from being the pack alpha,” Colin said. “We’re the guardians of a certain area and those who live within its boundaries. In my case, I combine both roles, as my father did before me.”
Regis drank the last of his wine, an excellent white from the Whittier House cellars. “And the last thing you need is another responsibility on the far side of the world, right?”
“I thought so, and that’s why I scheduled this appointment with you.”
“And I’m honored that you did.” Regis was practically licking his chops. The commission on the sale of Le Floret and the castle on it would bring him a year’s worth of income.
“But Luna has presented me with a most intriguing proposition.” Colin glanced at her and savored the surprise and pleasure in her green eyes. “She’s suggested turning Whittier House into an exclusive Were resort. I’m seriously considering the possibility.”
Regis looked as if he’d bit into a lemon. “Risky business, the hospitality industry. Fortunes have been lost trying to gauge the tastes of the fickle public.”
“But this is a specialty area,” Luna said. “Not many places cater specifically to Weres. Whittier House is already set up for that, including the need for open spaces, specially designed exits and entrances, and the most important aspect of all, seclusion.”
Regis gazed at her with new respect. “You have a point, and Weres do tend to have money to spend on luxury accommodations. I know of one large hotel that caters to Weres. It’s near Denver, in Estes Park.”
“I’ve heard of that one,” Colin said. “A large Were conference is scheduled there, but I’ve forgotten when.”
“Sometime in the next six to eight months, I think,” Regis said. “But back to your venture. Do you really want the headache of operating a business from your estate in Glenbarra? Why not just sell and be rid of the responsibility?”
Luna clutched her napkin and leaned forward. Candlelight danced in her glossy dark hair. “Or postpone that decision until the market for such properties is more lucrative. And in the meantime, create a guaranteed revenue stream.”
Regis glanced over at her. “And you would run the facility?”
“I hope to, yes.”
“And the cook stays?”
Luna nodded. “She’s a key factor in whether this would work.”
“I agree.” Regis settled back in his chair and patted his mouth with his napkin. “I hate the idea of losing the business, but if you two follow through with this plan, I’ll book a couple of rooms. My wife and my in-laws would love it here.”
Colin’s gaze met Luna’s for one brief moment. She glowed with excitement, and his heart lurched. From what she’d told him the night before, she’d struggled for every bit of security in her life. Running this inn would mean the world to her.
He understood the drawbacks of owning a business so far away from his home base. He’d have to trust her implicitly. Despite sophisticated means of communication, he still couldn’t supervise the operation adequately from Scotland.
But, the devil take it, he wanted to do this. His reasons were complicated and he wasn’t sure he’d examined all his motives as thoroughly as he should. Some of them might be less than noble.
He wanted Luna, more so with every passing moment in her presence. She would be grateful to him if he gave her the job of running the inn. But he didn’t believe in that kind of coercion on the part of males over females.
Besides, she could have scruples against becoming his lover if he confirmed that he would also be her boss. Damnation, he knew she’d have scruples. She’d said as much last night on the beach. But she’d also agreed to kiss him.
One thing he knew for certain. If he rejected her plan to turn Whittier House into a luxury vacation spot for Weres, then he would have no reason to ever see her again once he left for Scotland. If he agreed to go along with her plan, they would have to work together to make it happen.
He’d known her for a mere twenty-four hours, and many of those hours he’d been asleep in his old bedroom. But they’d also comforted and supported each other during the scattering of Geraldine and Henry’s ashes. A Were’s true colors tended to shine through in moments like that, and Luna had provided the kind of calm strength that had kept Colin steady and focused.
She was special, and despite being a wee bit jet-lagged even now, he had the good sense to recognize how amazing she was. Whether they became lovers or decided it was too risky under the circumstances, she deserved a chance to create a haven for herself and other Weres on Le Floret.
Luna barely tasted dessert, and that was saying something, because Janet had made her favorite, a rich cheesecake laced with chocolate. But who cared about food when a person’s dreams were about to come true? She kept sneaking glances at Colin, who seemed to be enjoying his dessert and coffee just fine.
As for Regis, he asked for seconds as he praised Janet’s cooking to the skies. When he was offered an after-dinner liqueur, he accepted that, too, plus a refill. Luna thought he’d never leave.
If Colin really meant what he’d said, and he struck her as a man of his word, then they had plans to make, timetables to create, menus to plan, rates to discuss. She had ideas about all of that. An Excel file on her computer held every detail and brainstorm that had occurred to her since she’d hatched this concept.
That had been a mere five days ago. She vividly remembered walking the beach in total despair at the thought of
being forced to leave Whittier House. Out of pure desperation, she’d come up with the idea of an inn exclusively for Weres.
She’d thought it was highly original, but after going online, she’d discovered a Were retreat in Colorado, the same one Regis had mentioned tonight. That seemed to be the only one, though, which meant the market was wide open in Washington State. She wanted to run across the beach, fling out her arms, and shout with joy. This would work!
Instead she had to sit at this elegant table and listen to Regis discuss his golf swing. Luna knew as much about golf as she did about the mating habits of a duck-billed platypus, and a conversation about the sex life of a platypus had a lot more going for it, in her opinion.
But Regis wouldn’t be the only dull guest she’d ever have to entertain once the inn opened for business, so she did her best to look fascinated. Colin knew something about golf, so he held up his end of the conversation admirably. She hadn’t realized that Scotland was the birthplace of the game, but Regis seemed thrilled to talk with someone who had actually played the St. Andrews course.
Darkness had fallen by the time Regis finally summoned his private motor launch from Friday Harbor, the nearest marina to Le Floret.
“I’ll walk you down to the dock, Regis.” Colin left his chair and came around to help Luna out of hers. “Do you want to come with us?”
Not when she was dying to relay the good news about Whittier House to Janet, who would still be in the kitchen finishing her cleanup duties. “Thanks, but I need to check with Janet and make sure the dishwasher’s running okay. It was acting up this morning, and if it still is, I’ll call a repairman first thing in the morning.”
“Be sure and give her my compliments again, and put me down for your opening weekend,” Regis said.
“I’ll do that.” Opening weekend! She wanted to spin in place at the prospect. “Assuming Colin doesn’t reconsider his decision.” Testing, testing.
“I can’t imagine why I would.” Colin glanced at her. “But we have several details to go over.”
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