Free Tall, Dark and Wolfish by Lydia Dare Page A

ear just before he cupped her bottom and pul ed her against his hardness. She yelped and swatted at his chest.
    A loud cough drew her attention. It actual y sounded more like someone was strangling Caitrin, but she assumed her friend meant for it to be a cough.
    Ben al owed her to step back and turned to face the churchyard. "You go. I'l fol ow along in a moment. I think we have some things to discuss."
    They certainly did.
    Elspeth was sure her blush matched her hair, if the scandalized look on Caitrin's face was any indication. Her friend hooked her arm with Elspeth's and

    practical y dragged her back toward the cottage. "Have ye gone and lost yer fool mind?" she hissed.
    That was a distinct possibility. She thought she'd been in control of the situation, right up until his lips touched hers. "It was just a kiss, Cait."
    "Ha! And I'm Mary Queen of Scots."
    "Ye look rather good for yer age, and with the missin' of yer head," she countered. Though she knew Caitrin had a point. It was more than just a kiss. Not
    that Elspeth regretted it for one moment. The feel of his hands, of his body pressed so close to hers, made her shiver at the thought.
    "I dinna tel ye this last night, what with yer grandfather, El, but Westfield's the one. He's the one from my vision."
    Elspeth shook her head as they neared the cottage. "Do ye think I'm daft? I saw the looks between ye and Sorcha. But ye're wrong, Cait. He just has an
    ailment. He was lookin' for my mother—"
    "Aye, Sorcha told me. Doona ye think it strange that he came lookin' for Rosewyth Campbel ? The last beast that came ta these parts left her with a
    bairn ta raise and no proper name ta give either of ye."
    Elspeth ripped her arm from Caitrin's. Never in al the years of their friendship had Cait spoken so vilely of the circumstances of her birth. If her friend
    had struck her across the face, she would have been less stunned. "I suppose I should thank ye for puttin' me back in my place, Cait. I nearly forgot ye
    were higher born than me."
    Her friend closed her blue eyes and sighed. "I dinna mean it the way it sounded. I'm just trying ta get ye ta see reason." She opened her eyes and
    pierced Elspeth with the intensity of her stare. "He is the one from my vision, El. He bears the mark. He wil try ta take ye from us. And from what I've seen,
    he's done a mighty fine job of that so far."
    The mark? Was it possible? Elspeth felt a connection to Ben Westfield, but she didn't think it was the mark. It didn't feel like she expected it to. But mark
    or no mark, he'd come for her help—actual y her mother's help, but it was the same power. If he thought Rosewyth could heal him, she was certain she
    could. She probably should have asked the extent of his ailment, however.
    It was hard to imagine that he had anything wrong with him. She'd never met a more virile man. He'd searched the countryside al night looking for her
    hair combs. How many ailing men could do that? How many healthy ones could?
    She leveled her dearest friend with a furious glare. "We each have our roles, Caitrin. You're a seer and I'm a healer. If Benjamin Westfield needs me ta
    heal him, I'l do so. I doona expect ye ta understand, but I do expect ye ta respect my decision."
    "Ladies," Ben's deep voice came from behind them.
    Elspeth nearly jumped out of her skin. "Heavens, Ben! I dinna hear ye."
    A wolfish grin spread across his face. "I do tend to move quietly. Am I interrupting?"
    Elspeth turned back to Caitrin to find her glowering. "Ye're no' the only one this affects, El. Bear that in mind."
    Then her dearest friend in the world stomped off through the trees.

    Twelve
    At first Ben didn't believe his ears, though they'd never failed him in the past. Caitrin Macleod was a seer? The image of five beautiful women standing
    together at the Fergusons' flashed in his eyes. A seer. A healer. A coven. Not the hooked-nose witches from Macbeth, but a coven just the same.
    Did the good people of Edinburgh know who