He’d been willing to play along, but by God, she’d had the upper hand long enough. He caught up with her halfway down the beach and dashed in front of her, blocking her path. She whirled and started back the other way, but he got there first.
She wouldn’t win this game. He’d spent far more time as a wolf, and when he put his mind to it, he could outmaneuver any Were. The chase had accomplished one thing, however. He wanted her with a fierceness that put every other coupling to shame.
She stood panting at the edge of the water, the surf sliding up over her paws.
Holding her gaze, he advanced. Game over, Luna.
Maybe. Maybe not. Wheeling, she ran back into the water.
He reached her before she lost her footing and mounted her before she could dodge away. Be still!
Miraculously, she was.
He managed to keep his balance as the waves rolled past, surging against his groin as he sank into her. The pleasure surpassed anything he’d known, and he concentrated on that pleasure as he blocked any thought of a soul-deep connection. The possibility hovered on the edges of his consciousness, but he denied it with every frenzied movement of his hips.
When he felt her contract around him, he surrendered to a mind-shattering cli**x. Then it was over. The water cradled them both as he stayed buried within her and stared out at the rolling sea. They’d shared so much, including this numbing sorrow for what could not be.
There were moments, Luna realized, when silence was kinder than words. As she and Colin returned to Whittier House, neither spoke. Yet she knew he battled the same bittersweet emotion that filled her heart.
The incredible joy of their physical connection was overshadowed by the knowledge that their special time together was nearly over. She’d tried to lighten the intensity with her beach romp, and he’d obviously understood.
Her plan had even worked for a while. But then… passion had taken over, sending them dangerously close to a true mating. They’d fought that urge and won. Sadly, they’d won. As if they both understood the cost of that victory, they’d touched noses in the entry hall and parted.
She would see him again before he left, but this was the private farewell they would both remember. She should take comfort in knowing he was as miserable as she was, but that didn’t work for her. For the first time, she began to understand why Hector had shut himself away from the world.
Luna didn’t plan to do that, even if she understood the motivation. But turning herself into a recluse wouldn’t benefit anyone, especially Colin. As the manager of the Whittier House Inn, she would stay visible and actively promote the business in any way she could.
Colin left the following morning in a flurry of good-byes. Luna’s comments mingled with everyone else’s as they all gathered in the entry hall in a tableau similar to the one when he’d arrived. But so much had changed between his arrival and departure.
Luna didn’t watch the helicopter take off. She had her limits. When the sound of the rotors shook the house, she was in her office with the door closed working on spreadsheets. If she took a few seconds to bury her face in her hands and weep a little, no one had to know.
She kept herself extremely busy for the rest of the day. Colin sent her a short text message when he landed in Glasgow, but there was nothing personal in it. Luna forced herself to delete it from her phone.
After a fitful night’s sleep, she was at her desk again early the next morning comparing linen prices online. The phone on her desk rang, and she debated how to answer. Should she say Whittier House or Whittier House Inn and get the ball rolling?
She settled on giving that ball a swift kick toward the goal. “Whittier House Inn. This is Luna Reynaud. How may I help you?”
“Miss Reynaud.” The voice was crisp and female. “I have George Trevelyan on the line. Please hold.”
Luna was taken aback. She’d never dealt with someone who employed an assistant to place phone calls, but she probably should get used to it. If Whittier House became as popular as she hoped, the rich and famous would flock to the island.
“Good morning, Luna.” George’s voice contained equal notes of friendly condescension and somber concern. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, George.” She did her best to match his tone. “How are you?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m troubled.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She didn’t rise to the bait and ask why.
“It’s imperative that I meet with you ASAP. I have an unexpected opening in my schedule tomorrow. Knox can pick you up around ten and bring you to my office.”
Her jaw tightened at his assumption that she’d drop everything to meet with him, but she reminded herself that was an alpha tactic. “Unfortunately, I can’t get away tomorrow.”
“That is unfortunate.” He sighed. “Then I’ll come to you. I can be there by three.”
She worked to keep her breathing steady. She would not allow him to steamroll her. “I’m afraid that’s not convenient, either.”
He adopted a more coaxing tone. “Surely you could spend thirty minutes with me, Luna. I promise not to stay long. I just want to discuss something with you concerning your project. It’s an excellent idea and I want it to succeed.”
She wondered what was so urgent that he’d fly over for a thirty-minute meeting. If he was determined to meet with her, maybe she should just get it over with. “All right,” she said. “I’ll see you at three tomorrow.”
“Good. See you then.” He disconnected the call.
Luna replaced the phone in its holder. She couldn’t help feeling uneasy about George inviting himself over, but he’d said he wanted the inn to succeed, so perhaps she had nothing to worry about.
Besides, he couldn’t negotiate a buy-in by talking with her. Colin owned Whittier House, so if George planned to bully his way into being a partner, he’d have to deal with Colin.
She could claim one small victory in the conversation, though. George had summoned her to his office, and she’d refused to be summoned. If she had to meet with him, at least she’d be doing it on her turf, backed up by her staff. And that staff needed to be informed of George’s impending visit.
After she reached everyone by cell phone, they gathered in the kitchen. Each took a stool around the center island. Even Hector showed up. Scraping the mud off his work boots, he chose a stool next to Dulcie.
Luna described the phone call and the outcome. Then she cleared her throat. “I just want to warn everyone that George Trevelyan has his eye on this place. He’d like to make it part of his empire, and both Colin and I are against it.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Hector said. “If George gets his hands on Whittier House, I really will quit.”
Dulcie glanced at him. “Then we just won’t let that happen, will we?”
“Damn straight,” Sybil added. “No way can we let some big wheeler-dealer muscle his way in. This is our project.”
“Absolutely.” Janet slapped a hand on the counter. “He may control half of Seattle, but he sure as hell doesn’t control what happens on this island.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Luna loved the way the staff had assumed ownership of the inn project. They were a force to be reckoned with. “But he is powerful and he’s used to getting his way.”
“Are you saying we have to treat him with kid gloves?” Sybil asked.
Hector frowned. “I don’t much like that idea. You have to stand up to bullies like George Trevelyan.”
“I agree,” Luna said. “To be honest, I’m not sure why he’s coming, since I have no power to grant him a financial stake in Whittier House. Maybe he hopes to convince me I can’t run the inn without his help.”
“I can see him trying to undermine your confidence,” Hector said. “That was the tactic he used as a teenager. I’ll make sure I’m available at three tomorrow to monitor the situation.”
“I dare him to find fault with Whittier House,” Dulcie said. “It rocks!”
“And so do we.” Sybil leaned forward. “We’re all invested in this place, which is why the house is immaculate, the grounds are gorgeous, and the food is to die for.”
“Speaking of food,” Janet said, “I may show off a little and have my world-famous chocolate chip cookies coming out of the oven around three tomorrow.”
Luna smiled with relief. Their moral support meant the world to her. “I don’t know what I’d do without y’all.”
“We’re just grateful you came up with the idea of running Whittier House as an inn,” Dulcie said. “I wasn’t looking forward to taking potluck with a new owner.”
Sybil nodded. “Me, either. And we’re not going to let George Trevelyan screw things up. Just tell us if there’s anything else we can do to help tomorrow.”
“It’s enough to know that you’re standing by, ready to keep him from marching in here, thinking he can boss us around.”
Sybil lifted her chin. “I’d like to see him try.”
Luna smiled. If mild-mannered Sybil was ready to fight for Whittier House, then George Trevelyan had better watch out.
After everyone left to begin their respective tasks, Luna returned to her office. She thought about sending Colin a text message about the visit and decided against it. He’d be busy dealing with the crisis of his brother Duncan’s decision to mate with a human. She couldn’t go running to him every time something came up, and besides, she didn’t know what George had on his mind.
She glanced at the clock and automatically added eight hours, which she’d been doing ever since Colin had left. It would be past five in the evening in Scotland. Colin would be looking forward to dinner, perhaps with his family. No, she wouldn’t disturb him about this. She and the staff could handle it.
Chapter 27
“So now you’ve met Molly.” Duncan sat across from Colin at their favorite neighborhood pub in the late afternoon as the after-work crowd began to drift in.
Duncan’s dark hair was a typical tousled mess because they’d driven back to the small town of Glenbarra with the top down on his MG. But his gray eyes were more thoughtful than usual. “What did you think of her?”
“I liked her.” As Colin sipped his whisky, he pictured the petite brunette who’d met them for lunch a few hours ago at a trendy spot in the heart of Glasgow. “I wanted to find something wrong with her, but I couldn’t. She’s all you said she was.”
“Yeah, Molly is terrific.” Duncan picked up his glass as if to take a drink, and then put it down again. “But as we were sitting there having a nice lunch, I started to ask myself if mating with her is what I really want.”
Colin stared at him. “Pardon?”
“I know, I know. It’s a total reversal for me, and usually I dig my heels in when I get an idea.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Duncan rolled his eyes. “As if you didn’t inherit the MacDowell stubborn streak, too.”
“I suppose I did.” And he’d begun to question what that stubbornness was costing him. “But what’s changed your mind about Molly?”
“Something you said on the phone keeps running through my mind. Remember that bit about finding someone you can’t imagine living without?”
“I do.” Colin took a swallow of his whisky. He hoped the liquor would blunt his longing for a certain lass he was having great difficulty living without.
“Well… ” Duncan hesitated. “This is hard for me to admit, but as you said, this could be the most important decision I ever make. I love the idea of mating with Molly. I love it a lot. And I love her. But maybe not enough to take this big step.”
Colin said nothing. He’d spouted off on the phone, but what did he know about such matters? He was a fine one to advise his brother, when he couldn’t figure out how he wanted to live his own life.
“The thing is,” Duncan continued, “I can imagine living without her. And I’m damn sure she can imagine living without me. She’s heading off without me next week, as a matter of fact.”
“Are you upset that she’s going on holiday without you?”
Duncan shook his head. “Not at all, which proves my point. We have a good time when we’re together, but there’s no compulsion to be with each other. Do you know what I mean?”
Colin sighed. “Aye. But a compulsion to be with someone isn’t much of a test, either. We can be compelled to be with the wrong person.” He took another gulp of his whisky.
Duncan studied him for several seconds. “All right, big brother, who is she?”
“Who is who?”
“This wrong person you’re compelled to spend time with.”
Colin scowled at his brother. “I didn’t say—”
“Don’t even try denying it. This is me you’re talking to. You’ve been edgy and distracted ever since I picked you up at the airport, and I blamed it on jet lag and the whole Molly problem. But it’s not about me, is it? Who did you meet in America? A sexy human?”
Colin gazed into his nearly empty glass. Then he polished it off and signaled for another. By the time he’d finished his second whisky, he’d told Duncan everything except the extremely personal bits. He’d even included the tragic story of Sophie and Byron.
“Bloody hell.” Duncan stared at Colin. “What are you going to do?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea. Stick it out here and hope the feeling goes away, I guess.”
“Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”
“So far it hasn’t been, but I just got back, and I mean to give myself time to accept the situation as it is.”
Duncan shook his head, as if he didn’t believe a word of that. “You really are a stubborn fool.”