“Melodr—”

“I loved how you put on the sparring show yesterday. So did Julia. The whisky was a little much. But I could deal with that. The bedroom without a bathroom? Nah. Not for a year and a day.”

He didn’t say a word. Had someone told her the White Room didn’t have a bathroom? Or was she referring to the lady’s chamber?

“You were to stay in the lady’s chamber only for the night. Beyond that…”

“Beyond that, you will stay in the White Room. Or some other you so choose.”

His jaw dropped. He didn’t know what to say. She had the right to move anyone from any chamber she wished. The property was hers. But he couldn’t believe she’d do it. To him.

He folded his arms and glowered at her. How would that look to his people? He ground his teeth, attempting to keep from saying what he knew he might later regret.

“The point I want to make is that I have no intention of changing anything unless I believe it necessary once I get the layout of things here. So you are jumping the gun, to my way of thinking. If I suggest some changes later and you don’t like them, we can talk about them. Civilly. Castle owner to castle manager.” She smiled.

Her expression was pure evil.

“About the White Room…” he said. He couldn’t sleep in there.

“You can move out of the laird’s chamber by nightfall. No rush.”

He ground his teeth some more and glared at her, but for the first time ever, he didn’t have a good comeback. Somehow the American she-wolf had taken control.

“You said you were going to find—”

“A solution to the problem.” She again smiled wickedly, and he suspected she meant he’d be out on his ear if he didn’t like it. “Now, if you don’t want to deal with me, that’s perfectly acceptable. Maybe one of your brothers could speak to me on your behalf and I could tell him what I’d like, and he could relay the message to you.”

“Bloody hell, woman.”

This time her smile was highly amused.

“You will deal with me. Not my brothers. Not my clansmen. They are all part of my wolf pack. Together we manage your castle, but I run the pack. No one else.” He wanted to say she had no part in telling his people what to do, but he attempted to keep his temper before he said too much more.

“I completely understand.”

Surprised she’d acquiesce, he was still on guard. “You and your cousins are without any other family? You are not part of a pack?” He wanted to know if she was in charge of a pack and was used to getting her way because of it. What if she moved her whole pack here to take over?

“What I do back home doesn’t concern you, Laird MacQuarrie. Now, can we have some breakfast? On plates? Or do I have to buy some for myself to use while I’m here?”

He growled under his breath. He’d already ordered that the dining tables be returned to the dining hall, that plates would be used for all future meals, and that silverware would be present. “It’s already set up the way I’m sure you’re accustomed. As to the White Room…”

“I hear it has a beautiful view of the gardens and the North Sea. You will love it, I’m told.”

How the hell did she know that?

She smiled. Then she rose from the chair and flounced toward the doorway of the study without another word, as if she owned the place. Which, damn it to hell, she did.

He would never live it down if—instead of the lass—he had to sleep in the White Room. But worse? That she would sleep in his chambers!

Chapter 6

Colleen really hadn’t wanted to force Grant to leave his own room. She knew the impact that would have—the fact he might lose face with his people. On the other hand, she had to take drastic measures to show she was in charge if she was going to live here for so long.

Thankfully, before she had found Grant that morning, she had overheard two of his men discussing the fact that he had given her the White Room. They couldn’t believe he would do such a thing. They’d mentioned the location, and when she had time and could check it out without anyone being the wiser, she would. Though she was just as clueless as earlier as to what made the room unappealing. Then she heard Darby, who she suspected was Grant’s manservant of sorts, giving Grant an earful about that woman in his chamber.

Grant had really brought all of this upon himself. If she made him do this, maybe he’d cool his heels a bit and see that she was not the enemy and that she could change the arrangements in a few days to accommodate them both. Besides, if he was all hot alpha, his people wouldn’t say anything to his face about the room changes. Maybe behind his back, but not be up-front. He could handle it. She assumed he’d suddenly find a more suitable chamber than the one he had planned for her to use that they probably believed was haunted. She couldn’t imagine what else could be wrong with it.

Before she left the study, Darby blocked her exit.

“Pardon the interruption, my laird,” Darby said over her head, preventing her from leaving, “but Laird Borthwick is here to see the lady.”

That gave her a little thrill of expectation. Archibald Borthwick had been waiting for a friend to arrive at the airport, but he’d been delayed several hours and Archibald had started a conversation with her, welcoming her to Scotland with such friendliness that she had admired him for it. She hadn’t expected him to see her so soon, or here like this without calling first. He’d offered to buy her lunch and to drive her from the airport to Farraige Castle, but she’d already rented a car and was dying to see her castle and what Grant intended to do when she arrived. But what a pleasant surprise to see Laird Borthwick now, and a welcome break from dealing with Grant.