Free Heart of the Highland Wolf by Terry Spear

Maybe she could make some inroads into her project by soliciting one of his lackeys, if she could make friends with someone who could get her inside the castle.
    Yet her thoughts flashed back to Ian’s expression, his assessing looks, and his dark eyes watching her, studying her, and perhaps attempting intimidation. She wasn’t easily intimidated. But she had the feeling that sneaking around him wouldn’t be an easy task.
    â€œDon’t count on it. He’s the laird and in charge. Even though I spoke to Guthrie MacNeill, he was only the go-between. Ian is definitely ruling the roost. And hell, I’d say you made a pretty good start on getting his attention anyway.” Maria let out her breath and favored her left wrist. “I know you’re going to the MacNeills’ castle after I leave. Nothing I say is going to convince you not to. You could really screw this up, you know. If you get arrested—”
    â€œI’ll plead I was a dumb American who got separated from the film crew on the way to the meeting and got lost.” Apparently Maria didn’t have much confidence that Julia could slip in and out of places without detection like a master thief.
    Then again, attempting to sneak into the underbelly of a castle was a new experience for Julia, so Maria’s concern wasn’t totally unfounded.
    â€œYou don’t think that when they drag your bones in front of the laird of the castle, he won’t figure something else was up?”
    A horn honked out front. Julia followed Maria outside and waved at Chad. He was the fetch-it guy, a surfer type with sun-streaked blond hair. Young and thrilled to be here, he smiled and waved back at Julia as Maria got into the car.
    As Chad backed out of the drive, Julia waved at Maria, smiling cheerfully in an effort to assure her everything would be all right. Maria just shook her head at Julia, full lips thinned in a grim line.
    Julia had no plan to get caught during her clandestine mission, but she wasn’t about to wait around until tomorrow to try and slip inside, either.

Chapter 5
    Julia grabbed her key to the cottage and locked the door, ready to storm Argent Castle in a surreptitious way.
    Already having gotten used to being in the dry cottage, she felt the cool mist lying thickly all over the area and was reminded of the car wreck and her subsequent fear of being followed. And of being injured. Her ankle bothered her just a hint, but she shoved the notion out of her mind and walked at a quickened pace through the ancient Caledonian Forest that linked Ian MacNeill’s castle and the cottage where she was staying.
    The forest was like a tie to the past where time seemed to stand still. She envisioned an ancestor of Laird MacNeill, with his men wearing kilts and equipped with bows and quivers of arrows, hunting in these very woods on horseback for deer or wild boar.
    Moving at a steady pace, she soon warmed up a bit. But she was getting wetter and wetter, her sweater and jeans soaking up the light, misty rain like a thirsty sponge. She’d considered wearing a jacket, but the fewer clothes the better if she was going to shape-shift. Thankfully, the boots supported her ankles and pine needles cushioned the ground, so except for a gnawing worry that she’d twist her right ankle again, it felt fine for now.
    Scots pines towered overhead, the fragrance of pine sap reminding her of Christmas and hiking through northwestern California forests, and the sweet, strong scent of juniper also wafted in the cool dampness. Coming from the direction of the castle, muffled Scottish voices with their distinctive, pleasing burr garnered her attention, and she stopped walking to consider her surroundings. She imagined that the people speaking were within the castle walls, in the bailey, outer or inner, and that no one would imagine a trespasser nearing their domain.
    With no known predators in the area—as far as animals that might