After what seemed like forever, he shut the door to his chamber, not banging it as she suspected he might do. He hadn’t spoken a word to her at dinner, and she assumed he was seething about having to move from his chamber tonight. She also wondered if that’s why he had initiated the kiss earlier today—an attempt to change her mind about where he’d sleep.

Was he also upset with her about her cousins coming? She’d told them they didn’t have to. Even suggested they arrive later because she felt Grant and his people still needed to become accustomed to her being there first. But both of her cousins worried about the weather getting worse. They wanted to see the castle before that happened and then return home.

She could have said no and insisted they wait until next summer when the weather was better, but they were so eager to visit that she had agreed.

She hoped she and Grant hadn’t returned to business as usual—him being all growly, and her cheerfully attempting to show it didn’t bother her.

Hating to admit it, she much preferred him kissing her atop a hill in a serene glen.

***

Grant toted his bag into the White Room and shut the door none too gently. He could live with this as long as he needed to, he told himself. He’d had an awful time trying to be civil to anyone this afternoon, knowing that as soon as the day ended, he would be subjected to sleeping in the White Room.

Everyone was well aware of the reason for his discontent and, thankfully, gave him a wide berth.

He stripped out of his clothes, then pulled aside the white ruffled and eyelet-trimmed curtains and stared at the white comforter and blankets decorated with pink roses covering the bed. The tiny white bed.

Maid staff would be certain to give him grief about leaving fur on the bed if he shifted and slept there. When he’d kissed the lass on top of the hill, he had been the alpha male to the alpha female, on top of the world, right with the world. Now he felt like one of his Irish wolfhounds relegated to the doghouse.

He stretched his body, embracing the heat and change in his muscles until he stood on four paws, staring at that damnable child’s bed. He growled, not that it did him any good, and curled up on the pink-and-white braided rug next to the hearth.

He still wondered how it had come to this. Him, the pack leader and manager of the estates and a laird in his own right, sleeping on the floor of the room reserved for the now “owner” of the castle.

***

Colleen shouldn’t have felt guilty for sleeping in the lady’s chamber while relegating Grant to the White Room. She wondered if he slept there or had made someone else do so while he commandeered that pack member’s room.

She finally closed her eyes, wrapping the blanket and covers tight to her chin, and heard a strange sound coming from the direction of Grant’s chamber.

Her eyes popped open as every one of her senses went on alert. Had Grant sneaked back into his chamber to sleep, defying her order? She couldn’t imagine the Highland alpha warrior-wolf sneaking anywhere. Unless he was ready to do battle with his enemy.

He might see her as his enemy, despite the fact that she paid for his services and he had free room and board, but she didn’t believe he was ready to engage in combat with her.

She heard some more strange noises. She wasn’t sure what to do. Make him leave? Pretend she slept right though it? Maybe he had only come back to get something out of the bathroom.

She closed her eyes, listening. Another odd sound. A creaking noise. She listened for a long time, half expecting to hear Grant climb onto his bed and the box springs to squeak.

Nothing.

She barely breathed as her ears tuned in to sounds only her wolf half could hear. A strange rumble. She ground her teeth.

She had to know what he was doing. If he thought to make noises all night long to disturb her sleep just because she made him leave his chamber…well, he wouldn’t get away with it.

Dressed in a long T-shirt, she left the bed and crossed her room barefoot. She opened the door to his chamber, didn’t see any movement, and walked across the floor until she reached the bed, then listened.

No sound. No breathing. No heart beating. Another rumble. It came from the bathroom.

She peeked between the midnight-blue curtains and found the bed empty. She had no desire to see Grant naked again. Well, not that she didn’t admire his form or really want to see him like that again, but that wasn’t conducive to conducting her mission here.

She stalked across the tapestry rug to the bathroom where the solid oak door stood ajar.

“Grant?” she called out.

No response.

Goose bumps dotted her skin. He was either in the bathroom, caught, or attempting to pretend he wasn’t there… No, he would be too alpha for that.

She pushed the door open and peered in. No one. The bathroom was empty. No noises.

Maybe by the time she moved around his curtained bed, he’d slipped out through his chamber door, not wanting her to catch him here. Surely she would have heard him opening and closing his door into the hallway.

She sat on a bench by the bed and waited, thinking if Grant or anyone else was pulling shenanigans, maybe even unbeknownst to Grant, the perpetrator would return, and she’d catch him at it. As she suspected, no other noises occurred. She continued to sit there, so sleepy she was barely able to keep her eyes open.

She closed them for a moment. Or she thought she had until something rattled, waking her, and she discovered she’d fallen asleep, her head resting against the foot of Grant’s bed. The sound had come again from the bathroom.