“Yes,” she said, smiling, her hand stroking down his hip. “I envisioned you feeding me while I lay on the chaise lounge in a toga, one breast exposed, or maybe both. Then I’d seduce you.”

His cock stirred inside her.

She chuckled and kissed his ready mouth. “You’re insatiable.”

“I can’t help it if the notions you have and your sweet body make me behave so wickedly. I will have to ensure Maynard adds grapes to the grocery list.”

“I noticed he added doggie treats so I wouldn’t make mincemeat of another choice steak.”

Grant smiled. “Tell me more about your Grecian plan of seduction.”

She ran her hand down his arm. “You’d wear a kilt. I thought of a toga, but I’d rather seduce a kilt-wearing Highlander, chest fully bared.”

He leaned down and licked her breast, his cock pulsing again inside her.

She laughed.

He started to kiss her lips again. “Keep talking about this seduction. Show me.”

Colleen couldn’t believe talking about her sexual fantasy would turn Grant into a raging inferno of love all over again. Then again, he’d really gotten into her being a pirate wench.

When they finally retired to bed that night, she vowed she’d have to come up with more sexual fantasies for her Highland warrior, who was one hunk of a wolf in the flesh.

Chapter 23

Before Grant and Colleen ventured forth the next day, they cuddled together in their bed. If anyone had told her she’d be doing this while she came for her yearlong stay, she would have thought him crazy—especially when she had believed Grant and his kin were human. She sighed, then smiled up at him. “So…what are you going to do for your stag party?”

“I’d skip it to be with you.”

She sighed. “I’ve already promised the ladies, and they’re all game to have the bachelorette party.”

Grant had every intention of learning just what the ladies had scheduled.

After eating lunch, he met with his brothers in the study, while the ladies conversed in the great hall, discussing their secret schemes.

“In the history of lupus garous, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of our kind having a stag party after the mating,” Enrick said.

“I agree. Which is why we need to learn just where the lassies intend to go,” Grant said, wanting to have fun with the women, but feeling a little out of sorts when he learned they intended to leave the property and possibly run into unsavory sorts. Not only that, but he worried the other women might encourage Colleen to kiss a male stranger, or hug him, as a silly last farewell to single life. But their kind didn’t do such things—not once they were mated, which for lupus garous was more binding than any wedding ceremony.

“Wait,” Lachlan said. “I thought we were talking about a stag party.”

“Our job will be to ensure that we can participate in the lasses’ party like I did with Ian’s kin last time. We just need to learn where the women are going and—”

Darby poked his head in through the study doorway. “They are headed for Kelton’s Pub, my laird. But first to Lily’s bed and breakfast.”

Grant smiled, glad his valet was so capable of spying on the ladies without their knowledge. Then he frowned. Unless they knew very well that he’d overheard them speaking of their schedule.

“Uh-oh,” Enrick said with a twinkle in his eye. “Does Colleen know about Lily?”

“There’s nothing to know. She was a one-night stand and never anything more. And human. As for the pub, we’ll arrive before the lasses get there,” Grant said, not about to be thwarted. But he and his men wouldn’t go to the B and B. The pub was where they’d have their fun. “I want ten men to follow them without their awareness, purely as a precaution to watch over them.”

Lachlan said, “Enrick, you’d better watch out. Heather MacNeill already stole your trunks. Never know what she might do if you show up to harass her.”

Enrick gave him a look that said he was game, which surprised Grant, but he had more pressing concerns in mind. Such as getting to the pub before the women arrived, and ensuring the women had no troubles along the way.

The bachelorette party was in full swing as Colleen and the rest of the ladies dressed in their clan plaids—MacNeill for some and MacQuarrie for others. Calla was wearing the Stewart plaid. The younger women wore minikilts. The older women’s skirts reached their ankles. Colleen felt so deliciously naughty. She was told in no uncertain terms that the lasses went regimental also. Not so much that it was a military or guy thing, but in the very old days, women went without. That was when the fashion was to wear long gowns—easier to use the bathroom. And, of course, if a woman chanced upon her lover in the glen and no one was about, that made things…easier.

But even so, she felt absolutely scandalous wearing a minikilt and no underwear.

Not that they had any intention of meeting up with the guys tonight. They had their own stag party going on somewhere.

No matter how much Colleen protested not wearing underwear, Julia said, “When it comes to bachelorette parties, propriety goes out the window.”

Colleen suspected Ian wouldn’t agree with her decision, and she was certain Grant wouldn’t, either.

The men had been so busy talking in the study that she and the ladies had managed to slip out without their knowing. Someone would be sure to tell them eventually. But the ladies would be off on their adventure before that happened.