“Oh?”

“You didn’t send those pictures you took of me while I was sparring with Ian to some other lassies, did you?”

She smiled.

“Darby said he swore the man showing off his arse on Facebook was wearing one of our kilts, and the man he was fighting was wearing the MacNeill tartan. Seemed like too much of a coincidence to us.”

She laughed. “What are girlfriends for?”

“I knew it. You said you wouldn’t share them.” He squeezed her tighter against his chest.

“Well, at least not the identity of the person bearing that sweet ass.”

“And now who’s baring her sweet—”

“I am not.”

He laughed. “With as windy as it is, lass? I’ll have my cell handy when we leave here.”

She’d hold her skirt down, then. She shook her head at him, but he was grinning wickedly and she knew he would, too. Not to share it with anyone, though.

When the whole party of stags and hens headed home, it was pouring rain, the first she’d experienced since she’d arrived. A shuffling of who rode in which cars followed. Ian and Julia grabbed a ride with Grant and Colleen, and they could barely see their way to the castle in the downpour.

That night, after watching romance movies and sharing popcorn and some crazy chocolate concoctions, Ian and his family left for Argent Castle with plans to return in two days for Colleen and Grant’s wedding. The forecast looked like intermittent rain. But it wouldn’t put a damper on the festivities, as excited as everyone was.

Everyone else headed for their respective beds. Grant had wrapped Colleen in his spare plaid while they snuggled and watched the movies, ensuring she didn’t show off her legs or other unmentionables in the short minikilt. As soon as he carried her to the bedchamber, he set her on her feet, then ditched the plaid wrapped around her.

“I want you just like this,” he said, running his hand over her bare leg. Still dressed in his kilt and her in her minikilt, they got into bed together. He pulled her back against his chest, his hand reaching down to feel under her minikilt.

She smiled. A questing finger quickly found its way inside between her slick, hot folds, and she groaned with the sensual assault.

“You should have told me you were already wet for me. You don’t know how much it killed me to touch all that silky flesh and not be able to lift that tiny kilt and bury myself inside you while I waited for everyone to retire for the night. From now on, you only wear it for me in the privacy of our chambers.”

She smiled, happy to do so, not willing to have a breeze lift her kilt and show off her buttocks. He stole her breath when he began nibbling her ear and rubbed his hard body against her backside.

His phone gave an annoying jingle, making them both tense. It was close to three in the morning, and she couldn’t believe anyone would bother them at this hour. Unless it was something serious.

Grant kissed her cheek and withdrew his finger from her feminine folds. “This better be damned important.” He pulled out his cell, still holding her close, moving his hips so he could connect his hard cock with her mini-kilted buttocks. She obliged him by wriggling against him, providing friction, too.

“Aye,” he growled into the phone. He slipped his hand up her sweater to cup a breast, his fingers softly pinching a nipple, making it tingle with need.

She heard Enrick say, “Archibald’s men are here. Ian said they saw five of them in the woods prowling the perimeter near the castle, and Baird is with them.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Grant stiffened against her. His sexy scent subtly changed to anger.

Grant swore. “I’ll be right down.” He gave Colleen a tight embrace. “Stay here, lass. Don’t get undressed. I’ll return,” Grant said, still dressed only in his kilt.

She knew then he would shift if he needed to chase the men or wolves down. He kissed her cheek, then stalked out of the room with the cell in hand.

“Did you see any of Baird’s cousins? Any of the rest of his men? What about Archibald?” Grant shut the door to the chamber.

Colleen slipped out of the minikilt in a flash, kicked off her boots, and hurried to throw on her jeans and boots again. At the very least, she wanted to watch what was going on from the ramparts.

Before she could grab a rain jacket, the bedchamber door opened. Thinking Grant had returned for something, she turned. And gasped.

To her horror, a soaking wet Archibald rushed into the room. Before she could scream, he struck her in the temple. A sharp pain registered, and a sprinkling of white stars against an inky black night followed. And then? Nothing.

Chapter 24

The next thing Colleen was aware of, her head throbbed, her hands were tied together, and her mouth was gagged as she lay on the soft mattress. What had happened to her? Then she remembered in a flash of horror. Archibald. He was here, and she was in grave danger.

How had he gotten inside the keep?

She kept her eyes closed, listening to movement, trying to determine where he was in proximity to her. She was lying on her side of the bed, her feet unbound. That was good. She planned to kick him, though what good that would do, she didn’t know.

Archibald moved toward her, away from the window. “Wake up or I’ll kill you where you lay,” he said, his voice soft but filled with threat.

Her eyes popped open.

He offered her a cold, calculating smile. “You don’t appear happy to see me,” Archibald said, sneering at her. “Here I thought we were getting along so famously. I imagine you wonder how I reached you so easily. Through the old sewer pipes, where we’re going now. Do you mind?” He yanked her from the bed.