She parked and just stared out the window, jaw dropping as she watched the men slashing at each other with humongous swords, the metal clanking and the sound reverberating off the castle walls. She was dumbfounded and enthralled. This was nothing like the movies, or even the Renaissance fairs or Celtic fests she’d attended. The battling men were so close up and real. And so many of them. Maybe thirty?

She took in a deep breath and her heart began skipping beats. She smelled wolves! Not humans. Wolves. Oh…my…God. Her father had lied to her. Why? This changed everything. Butting heads with an alpha human was a lot different from taking on an alpha male wolf. He could smell everything about her that she could about him. She thought she’d have the advantage in dealing with him. Not now.

The hot testosterone poured off the men in waves. And their wolfishly delicious scent was a real turn-on. She doubted anyone could smell her interested scent, considering how much the men exuded.

Focus! She sat for a while just watching from the car as the men mostly ignored her, although a few glanced her way, checking her out. Probably trying to determine if she was quaking in her low heels yet, afraid to leave the car. That worked well for her. Let them believe what they would about her. She’d prove them wrong when she was good and ready.

She wondered which one was Grant, or whether he was even out here fighting with the men. Taking in a deep, admiring breath of all that gorgeous Highland wolf flesh, she dug through her bag and pulled out her camcorder. Armed, she left her car and began videotaping the scene. Once she was back in the States, she’d view this whenever she wanted to enjoy some really hot Highlanders in action.

A few stopped to watch her then, smiling, which surprised her because she assumed their fearless leader had ordered the men to put on the show of a lifetime to discourage her from staying. Smiling at her wouldn’t have the right effect, unless they thought she was a timid beta wolf and their interested smiles were meant to scare her off.

Or maybe her skirt whipping around in the wind had caught their eyes. The gypsy-like floral, silky, partly sheer fabric was a tease, allowing the viewer a glimpse of legs, but the built-in very short underskirt stayed put, hiding all the important parts. Still, they seemed to be waiting to see her skirt fly above her ears. They would be disappointed. Or maybe they thought watching her would cow her. She concentrated on looking for Ian MacNeill, at his wife’s request.

Most of the men were still fighting. From the pictures Julia had shared with her of Ian and Grant, Colleen recognized the MacNeills outfitted in their predominantly blue-and-green kilts. The MacQuarries wore red-and-green plaid.

She continued to shoot the ones who battled it out, while scanning all of the men, looking for Ian. The men worked their gorgeous muscles as they swung their swords, tensing, parrying, and thrusting. Oh my heavens, the sight was dazzling.

Then she caught sight of Ian fighting Grant MacQuarrie. Sure. The pack leader of the MacNeills squaring off with the pack leader of the MacQuarries. She couldn’t get over the notion that her father had lied to her about them being human. What did he think? That once she learned they were wolves, she would hot-trot across the ocean to meet them? And date them, or something? Though if she’d known they looked this hot, she might have.

Colleen smiled slightly. Ian was angled more so that she could see his face, while now Grant’s back was to her. His shoulders were muscled and tanned, his legs the same—well-sculpted and sexy. The breeze ruffled his light brown hair, but she’d only managed to get a glimpse of his face and now she couldn’t see it.

Julia would be thrilled to get this video of her husband helping Grant to play this trick on Colleen. She and Julia had lost contact with each other over the last couple of years, both of their lives having been so hectic. Colleen still couldn’t believe that Julia had mated a Highland wolf, and she intended to see as much of Julia as she could while she lived here.

She noted that a few more men had stopped fighting and were watching her and grinning. She tried to concentrate on the men in combat and couldn’t help smiling herself. Impressive. Oiled to a fare-thee-well, they were trying to look like they’d been sweating for some time, which made their muscles all the more magnificent. She knew the shouted warning of her approach meant the men had just begun their fight when she arrived.

As Ian and Grant lunged and parried, she observed their impressive footwork, too. Every slicing blow sent a hint of unease through her, though, as she worried that the men would accidentally injure each other. She loved the way the wind whipped their kilts about. She caught a gorgeous shot of Grant’s very toned, hot ass. That would teach him to go without any briefs on a windy day! Maybe he thought she would be so shocked to see him naked beneath the kilt that she’d run off.

Not her.

She just hoped she wouldn’t catch too much of Ian’s exposed body parts as she continued to film the men in action. With a smile, she focused on Grant’s kilt, just in case it lifted again. She’d snap a couple of still shots this time.

A man approached her, but intent on her mission, she didn’t turn to face him. She took in a deep breath to smell his scent, like all wolves would do, sensing whether the other wolf was dangerous or interested. He was interested. He would check her out, too. Just a natural tendency among wolves.

“You, lass, must be Lady Colleen Playfair.”

Her skirt whipped around the Highlander’s bare legs, but he didn’t seem to mind.

She was indeed titled. The barony had passed down from generation to generation, though in America she had never been referred to as a baroness, so she wasn’t used to hearing anyone call her by that title.