by Vivian Arend
“Airline lost it.” Damon pulled on his leather jacket, covering up the wide expanse of drool-worthy skin. Addie didn’t know if she was happy or sad about that.
Alastair hesitated, narrowing his eyes at his brother before turning back with a wide grin and becoming the consummate host. “I’ll send someone around with clothing you can borrow,” he offered. “Unless you’d prefer to spend your time in wolf form.”
Niall made a noise like he was bringing up a hairball. “Not in the house. Anything else, but no dogs in the house.”
“Timber wolf,” Damon corrected. “Thank you for the clothes. Your hospitality is truly magnificent. I’m humbled by your gallant offer. I shall treat your possessions with the utmost care.”
Good grief. Addie grabbed his arm, hauling him through the grand entrance toward her tower.
The instant they were out of sight she freed herself, striding toward the first set of stairs then dashing up them two at a time.
She raced ahead to discourage conversation. Silent at her side, Damon cased the joint as they crossed marble hallways and skipped past enormous side rooms. Addie eyed their surroundings with appreciation. The interior of the grand estate had been modernized enough it was comfortable, if still on the slightly rustic side.
But the history…that’s what she loved. The enormous rooms they passed spoke of grand balls and hunting trips with royalty. Both a political and social playground for the upper class during centuries past, the manor had lost only part of its glory.
And now it was the site of yet another battle, luckily one Addie didn’t have to fight.
She guided Damon through the labyrinth of passageways to the staircase leading to her bedroom. They were halfway up the spiral before he spoke.
“Do you have some kind of Rapunzel fantasy?”
Addie shivered, tempted by the other fantasies his deep, growly voice instilled in her far too quickly. “It’s the only room I found with a working lock.”
“And you had a reason to lock yourself in?”
Deadly anger laced his question. She was pretty sure if she answered yes, Alastair and Niall would be bleeding within moments.
Addie paused on the landing outside her door, sending as much calm toward Damon as possible. “No reason, but I was uncomfortable. Pull in your claws, wolf.”
He smiled, showing his teeth. “Yes, sweetheart.”
Oh dear. The boyfriend thing.
She’d have to explain, and soon, but first he was still dripping, a trail of water marking their route through the manor. On the other side of the tower, modern plumbing had been installed in the adjoining room. Decadence spread before them like a chrome-and-marble pleasure garden. Another reason she’d picked the location for her own.
She gestured toward the shower. “You must be freezing. Get cleaned up, and I’ll find you something to wear until the clothes arrive.”
Damon tossed his leather jacket to the side, his bright blue T-shirt abandoned with it. He popped open the top button on his jeans and lowered the zipper. Addie snapped her gaze back to his face when she realized she was watching him strip with far too much fascination.
Getting naked wasn’t a problem for most shifters. It came with the territory, along with bonus goodies like disease-free sex and a keen sense of fertility—i.e. no condoms necessary. At their age no strings attached sex was fun, most of the time.
But she wasn’t the type to tumble every Big Bad Wolf she met, which was why even though her cheeks were flaming hot, it was definitely time for her to put some space between them.
Too bad that wasn’t his agenda.
Nope. He was staring, the deep rumble of his voice trapping her and nailing her feet to one spot. “Awww, sweetheart, don’t go. I could really use your help. You can soap all my hard-to-reach places.”
His jeans joined the rest of the clothing in the pile. His boots were there too, black with metal straps. There didn’t seem to be any underwear, and yes, she was totally examining his clothing to keep from looking at naked him.
“I’m not showering with you right now,” Addie said as evenly as possible.
Another rumble greeted her—damn that was sexy—but thank goodness, the water flicked on.
“Not now means sometime. I like that idea. Showers are more environmentally friendly when you share. I’m surprised you’re not interested in conservation.”
“Right. Like you’re really environmentally concerned—”
Drat, his distraction had worked. She’d turned to face him and got a full frontal as a reward. For a moment all she could do was flap her jaw. The ripped muscles she’d witnessed all over his upper body weren’t alone. They carried on down past the mumble-mumble in the middle she wasn’t ready to let register in her brain to muscular thighs and calves, and, as he turned, a set of ass cheeks she wanted to dig her teeth into.
“Lordy, your butt is a thing of beauty.”
She slammed her mouth closed before she said something specific regarding his other assets.
Damon offered an amused grin over his shoulder. “On that note, I’ll stop teasing. I am cold, and I’m hungry too, if that’s not being a pain in the ass. I didn’t stop for breakfast before I left the airport.”
She was a fool, spending time ogling him when she should have been taking care of him. “As soon as you’re dressed, we’ll go down for breakfast. It’s nearly time.”
Damon caught her eye. The power of an alpha wolf stroked her as he offered a confident promise. “It’s going to be okay, Addie. I’ll take care of you.”
She scurried out of the bathroom, a little concerned with how hard the butterflies in her stomach were dancing at his announcement. Her wolf stretched inside, expressing interest in being cared for, and there was no way for Addie to deny it.
His promises, all of them, spoken or implied, sounded damn good to her as well.
Chapter Two
Damon scrubbed the Scottish scum off his body and from under his nails then hurried to dry off so he could join Addie.
She wasn’t what he’d expected, not from what he’d learned over the past months when he’d visited Jim and Lillie. Addie was nothing like his best friend’s wife. She was far more independent and bold, and every bit of him was curious to learn more.
Well, every bit except his wolf, which made this an unusual situation. Here they were with a new lady who pushed every yes button he had. Normally the animal side of him would be eager to have some fun, especially considering she was a wolf as well. But, nope. After the initial burst of interest, it seemed the other part of him was pouting. Wolfie Damon had withdrawn to someplace deep inside and left him to his humanness.
But considering the love-hate relationship he had with his inner beast, who knew what was wrong? Maybe it was simply pissed about being hauled across the world without enough food.
Addie had retreated to the balcony, the French doors thrown open to let in the morning breeze off the moors. The air was fresh post-storm, and somewhere not too far away a ton of birds were all tweeting their fool heads off.
Damon strolled out to stand next to her, leaning his elbows on the balcony railing as he stared over the landscape. “For the end of the universe this isn’t bad, in a muddy, no-fun-in-sight kind of way.”
She snorted.
For some reason her response tickled his funny bone. “What? Are you telling me this is downtown Metropolis Scotland?”
The sun shimmered off her smooth brown skin as she twisted toward him, tempting him to take a lick. “From what I heard, anything that isn’t five steps off Times Square in New York City is the back of beyond to you.”
Damon tilted his head, fighting to keep from grinning too hard. “I do have more refined tastes than some.”
“In your opinion. Is this what the best-dressed wolves on Wall Street are wearing these days?” She set an unpolished fingernail against the fabric on his hip where he’d wrapped a towel around his groin.
He wasn’t sure why he’d covered himself,
considering skin was an acceptable alternative. He lowered his voice and invited her wolf to come out and play. “It’s more fun to give you something to unwrap.”
A burst of laughter escaped, and she poked him in the stomach. “Oh my God, go away.”
“Why? Are you telling me we have a platonic relationship? I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.”
Addie paused. “About that…”
Damon shook his head. “Hey, no worries, I’m cool with us being an item. Not sure how we got to this point, but you’ll get no arguments from me, baby. I’m sure we’re damn hot together.” He waggled his brows…at her retreating back. She’d twirled on the spot and escaped into the bedroom. “If you keep walking away from me, our conversations are going to take a lot of time.”
“Not a conversation if you keep talking nonsense,” she admonished over her shoulder. “We’ve got half an hour to get to the dining hall. You want to know what’s going on?”
He sighed dramatically as he settled on the bed, fluffing up the pillows before he piled them against the headboard and leaned back. “Shoot. Tell me what’s on your mind, sweetheart.”
If looks could kill, he would’ve been eviscerated. This was going to be fun.
“I told you, it’s nothing specific, except for constantly being watched.”
Damon snickered. “Damn cats.”
Addie nodded. “Oh my goodness, yes. I mean, I’ve worked with all kinds of shifters, but these two in particular…?” She visibly shuddered. “I keep expecting to walk into a room and catch Niall grooming himself, and I mean his human form, not his Highland Tiger.”
Well, there was a new one. “Highland Tiger? Like stripes, and roaring noises, and everything?”
“Their tails are blunt with distinctive black rings, kind of like a raccoon, but yes, tiger markings on their torsos.”
“And they make you uncomfortable?” It wasn’t really a question. The way she damn near twitched every time she mentioned them was answer enough.
She hesitated then nodded. “I don’t like feeling this way about anyone. As if I’m judging them before I know them, but considering they didn’t live here a month ago, and they don’t need to be here, it would be nice to do my job without worrying one or the other is going to walk into whatever room I’m in and spend the next hour silently skulking about.”
“What are you doing?” Damon asked with sincere curiosity. “This is a strange place for a single woman to traipse to on a job assignment all on her lonesome.”
The cutest little frown appeared on her forehead as she sat in the chair in front of the antique makeup table. “You don’t know?”
He shook his head. “All I got was the message Lillie wanted me to come and take care of you, so I came.”
“Awwwww.” Her expression softened. “She’s the best.”
Damon made a face. “She’s the best? I’m the one who hauled ass all the way over here to be your watchdog.”
Abby gave him a tolerant smile. “Fine. Who’s a good boy? You are. You’re a very good boy.”
“Enough with the dog jokes,” he ordered, but he laughed in spite of himself. “Why are we preparing to do battle with the kitty-litter duo?”
“I’m a cataloger. It’s my job to break down everything of value now that Lord Sterling-Wylde passed away. The authorities are working on the will.” Addie made a face. “Or I should say wills, because four have been found so far—I came across one in the pantry the first week I was here, and another a week later in a bedroom.”
The pantry? Something weird was going on.
“But the wills are for the lawyers to mess with. I just need to create the final inventory for when they decide which one of the boys is the actual heir to the manor, Alastair or Niall.”
“It’s not obvious?”
She snorted. “Ummm, no. Consider this. Lord Sterling-Wylde dies, and two wills are presented—one from Alastair, one from Niall.”
“Let me guess. Each names a different heir.”
“Bingo. And then I start work and find another version. The boys moved into the manor the next day.” She rose to answer a knock on the door.
Suddenly things made more sense. “That’s why they’re being creepers on you. They both want the place, and think if they’re not around it might hurt their chances to inherit.”
“Of course that’s why they’re watching, but it still seems crazy to me. I mean, it’s not like them being around can stop me from handing anything I find to the lawyers. Unless the boys plan to do something nefarious, like kill me and hide the body, which seems a little over-the-top dramatic, even for them.”
Damon’s hackles went up at the thought of anyone laying a finger on her.
She held the door as two uniformed men brought in four ancient suitcases and stacked them on the bench at the foot of the bed. The servants eyed Damon, and he couldn’t resist showing his fangs as he smiled.
They hurriedly made their escape.
“Are you planning on being this difficult the entire time you’re here?” She stomped across the room to snap open the latches on the first suitcase.
“Hey, I was setting up my disguise. I’m the hot, protective boyfriend who’s come to visit you, who you can’t keep your hands off.” Damon slid off the bed and sauntered to her side, ignoring the retching sounds she was making. “And I’m not difficult at all. I’m low maintenance, really. Feed me, pet me. Meet my physical needs…”
The first suitcase was entirely filled with large pieces of plaid fabric. Addie grabbed one and thrust it forward. “Sure, love to.”
He just about dropped the material. After all her blushing glances, that was the last thing he’d expected to hear. “Really?”
She backed away, disappearing into the bathroom and shouting back at him. “Definitely. There’s a leash around here somewhere. I have no problems taking you for walksies a couple of times a day.”
Damn, he liked her. “You know, you’re a wolf as well. All these dog jokes might make people think you don’t have any howl in you.”
The water turned on, and he strolled closer, hoping for a more revealing glimpse. Nope. Nothing too exciting, unless good oral hygiene was a kink.
She paused in the middle of brushing her teeth to answer him. “That’s the trouble with hanging around other shifters. Yes, I’m a wolf, but I spent tons of time with Lillie and her bear parents, and there are a lot of fox shifters here in Scotland.” She caught his eye in the mirror before shaking her toothbrush in his direction. “Hurry up. Find something to wear. We leave in five minutes.”
And that’s how he ended up pacing the halls at her side, an ancient linen shirt covering his upper body and a rather breezy chunk of plaid fastened around his hips. A thorough search of the suitcases hadn’t turned up any footwear, so he’d pulled on his boots and was currently ignoring the water squishing between his toes on every step.
“I take it this means you plan on sticking around?” Addie asked as she led him past banners and formal portraits, and what looked to Damon like a museum’s worth of artifacts. Plenty of reasons Alastair and Niall would want sole ownership of the manor.
Well, he’d make sure Addie stayed safe. Two pussycats didn’t worry him at all. “Of course I’m sticking around. That’s why Jim called me.”
She guided him down a broad staircase that curled in a clockwise direction. “I’m going to be here for quite a while. I don’t want to keep you from your job.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ve got nowhere I need to be.”
Damon couldn’t resist. Protect Addie—no problem. But there was no reason he couldn’t have some fun at the same time. He hopped up on the edge of the railing, the tight-knit wool of his kilt forming the perfect slippery barrier between him and the polished oak. He slid downward rapidly, arms stretched wide to keep his balance, air swirling past as he approached the bottom…
Where an enormous baluster blocked the path between him and main-floor landing.
He had all
of three seconds to come up with a solution that didn’t end with a pile of broken, tartan-coloured shifter. He timed it perfectly, catching hold of the top wooden knot and letting momentum swing him over the top, landing in a balanced crouch on the antique woven carpet.
A serving girl stood to one side of the Grand Hall, her eyes wide as dinner plates. Damon tipped an imaginary hat in her direction before turning back to the staircase and waiting for Addie.
It didn’t take long, and when she hit the lower level she was wearing an angry face.
“Hey, I didn’t hurt anything,” he protested.
She placed a hand on his back and gave him a shove down the hallway, speaking just loud enough for his wolf ears. “You also flashed poor Charlotte. Did you forget you’re not wearing any underwear?”
What kind of question was that? “I’m wearing a kilt.”
She didn’t seem to think that was enough of an answer. He hurried ahead so he could turn and pace backward, examining her face for clues how to proceed. The haughty expression she was fiercely maintaining was cute enough he was tempted to pick her up and kiss her soundly, just to see how long she could maintain a pout with his tongue in her mouth.
“I’m sorry. I’ll behave,” he swore, one hand in the air.
“Don’t try to manage me,” she muttered. “I know managing when I see it, and you’re trying to manage me.”
“Never.” Damon slapped his hand over his chest, shuffling at high speed to keep up. He bent over to look her straight in the eye, fluttering his lashes like an innocent youth. “Unless you like to be managed, because then, hell, yeah.”
Her lips twitched. “Just remember I have a job to do, and while I’m happy you’re here, I hope this wasn’t a mistake.”
Something blurred in his peripheral vision, and Damon whirled, moving instinctively to protect her.
Alastair had popped out of nowhere and was pacing at their side. “Oh, dear.” He slunk forward, glancing between them, his gaze calculating. “I hope there’s no trouble between you two lovebirds.”