Free A Howl for a Highlander by Terry Spear Page A

clan would come to all kinds of different conclusions. Like that she’d found this hot Highland hunk on the island and was chasing him around the world to spend more time with him. Or that she thought she’d found a gold mine and a titled family to exploit. Right. As if either would interest her. Unless, of course, his clan had an amazing garden. And then?
    She’d be in Highland heaven.
    She dried off her belly as he watched her every move. She’d always worn the string bikini at night around her girlfriends, figuring no one else would see them in the dark unless the observer was a wolf. Now, out of the water, she suddenly felt self-conscious about the wet fabric of her bikini showing every detail while she was being observed acutely by a man who could see in the dark as if it were daylight.
    She had to offer him the towel, which made her feel even more naked once she held it out to him. He took it, smiled, and then walked behind her to dry her back and all the way down her bare buttocks and calves. The way he gently stroked her was really thoughtful and totally unexpected, but it stirred her craving for him all over again. Just when she thought she’d cooled down a bit from their water moves, too. When he finished, he ran the damp towel over his chest, his eyes again zeroing in on her halter top and bikini bottoms.
    He had such an incredibly sculpted chest and perfectly muscled arms—not bulky, but with just the right amount of muscle that made her feel he’d offer real trouble to any man who could be a threat. He had to have chiseled all those great muscles by swinging a sword against an enemy or at least family who served as the enemy in sport. Dark, wet hair trailed down his abdomen to the waistband of shorts slung low on his hips. The trail of hair drew her eye down further to his arousal, to where his ebony shorts were plastered against the sheer size and hardness of it. Man, he was some wolf.
    “It’s a wonder you don’t lose what little you’re wearing,” he said, noticing the part of his anatomy she’d chanced to get a glimpse of while she thought he was too busy looking her over.
    Her face flushing with heat, she glanced back at the water. She didn’t normally get caught looking at a man’s package when it was in such great form or quite so evident. “The waves weren’t violent enough. I’ve only lost my bikini top once—during rough waters in the Gulf of Mexico off Galveston Island, Texas.”
    His gaze focused again on her top, and she envisioned him attempting to imagine her without it. Either that, or he was enjoying the view of her taut nipples, which were pressing against the wet fabric and perfectly outlined.
    She started to walk back to the villa, and he didn’t follow. Too busy watching her backside?
    Then he ran to catch up. “If you did come to Scotland and wanted to see our gardens, you could stay at the castle.” A smile lingered in his deep, baritone voice.
    “ But ?” she asked, elongating the word, figuring from the teasing light in his eyes that there would be strings attached.
    “It would cost you.”
    She laughed. “Let me guess. Five thousand dollars.”
    “In pounds, not dollars.”
    “That would cost me even more.” She couldn’t help sounding indignant. Highway robbery! Especially since the place was probably fairly big, and she wouldn’t take up any space at all. And here she’d taken him in, the stray that he was.
    “Aye. No twin beds, either.” He put his arm over her shoulder and walked the rest of the way to the patio with her rubbing against his hip. “Unless you wanted to share a room.”
    “How much would that cost?”
    “Probably too much,” he conceded.
    “That’s what I figured.”
    He laughed and walked her inside the villa.
    “It’s too late now, but in the morning, can you take me to a grocery store so we can pick up something to eat?” she asked.
    “Aye, lass. Are you hungry? We could try and find someplace that might still be open