“Aye. Your people can wear Campbell plaid, and we’ll wear the MacNeill. There will be much feasting, dancing, drinking, and playing of games.”

“A wedding,” she said, not believing that she’d ever be married in such a fashion. She had girlfriends who were not wolves who had talked about being princesses at their weddings, but she’d never thought she’d partake in such a fantasy.

“Aye, the women are already planning it. But you can make any changes you wish.”

“No, I’ve… well, never envisioned having a wedding of my own. Whatever anyone wants to do is fine with me.” She smiled, knowing that her own Highland family would be as pleased with the notion as she was. As long as no one said she had to wait to share a bed with Duncan until after the wedding.

She heard water flowing. In one corner of the garden, a man-made waterfall flowed into a shallow pool, maybe four feet deep. He hadn’t mentioned that to her.

She looked up at him questioningly. He smiled. “You wanted to sword fight, aye?”

She had hoped he wanted to do something else. Instead, she smiled back at him, hoping she wasn’t too transparent. “Absolutely.”

He showed her the right stance as she faced him, how to swing her wooden sword, how to attack and parry. “Are you sure, lass, you must go back to America next fall and teach for the year?”

“Yes, Duncan, but you’ll be with me. Then my contract’s up, and we’ll return here.”

He sighed, and she realized he didn’t want to leave his own home. While she had him in the States, she’d show him as much as she could—starting by taking him to the steak house in the Panhandle where the steaks were bigger than the plates. She’d drive him to where the eccentric Texas millionaire buried ten Cadillacs with their tail fins pointing to the sky.

He’d most likely enjoy a real Texas cowboy outing with a meal served out of an old-style chuck wagon in the Palo Duro Canyon. She’d have to take him to the outdoor show Texas so he could see just a fraction of what Texas was all about. She was also thinking how much she’d like to take him down to South Padre Island for more water play.

Before long, he had his arms wrapped around her, helping to perfect her sword swing. His face was in her hair, against her cheek, nuzzling and kissing. She felt his erection pressed hard against her back, showing her just how much he wanted her. Then he tossed the wooden sword aside.

“I’ve missed my mermaid of the sea,” he said, his voice rusty with lust as he swept her into his arms and carried her to the falls, the sword practice forgotten. “I’m ready to return to paradise when I would never have thought to have enjoyed the experience. Ian insists. Says that since we brought the money home, we deserve another stay in paradise, only this time to strictly enjoy it. His orders.”

“Ah, Duncan, have I told you how much I already love your family?”

He smiled and hurried to strip her of her clothes. When he pulled his kilt off, she stared in wonder. He was ready for her, all glorious, hard, ready.

“You were naked under your kilt,” she said. Had every man been who’d been sword fighting?

Duncan laughed and lifted her into the falls.

Naked, his kilt and her jeans and sweatshirt cast aside on top of the rocks surrounding the man-made pool, he held her tightly in his arms under the falls.

“Were you naked under your kilt when you were in the movie, too?”

He smiled and kissed her wet cheek. “Aye.”

She grinned. And kissed his mouth back. “I will have to watch the movie exceptionally closely then.”

He chuckled. “You will never see the small part I played in the background.”

“I will see you, Duncan MacNeill.” She sighed. “I thought you said you wanted Ian to build you a pool, but you already have one.” She ran her hands up his wet chest as the water from the falls poured over them.

“I was thinking of an indoor pool that we could enjoy year round. After a while, this one will be too cold.”

The water was cool, not warm like the Caribbean, but that didn’t keep them from heating up.

He set her on her feet in the pool of water and kissed her, his fingers tangling in her loose hair, hers gripping his narrow waist. She loved him, loved how he’d brought her here to this special place to make love to her.

“You’re gorgeous.” She licked his nipple and then the other as he groaned, the falls drowning out the sound. “And so very hard.”

He smiled and cupped her face, kissed her mouth, and parted her lips so he could stroke her tongue with his. He didn’t stop until they were breathless and ready to sink into the pool. “Mermaid. Siren,” he said, lifting her against him.

Here, there were no waves to knock them over, no fish to nibble at their legs, no saltwater to caress their skin—just fresh, cool water running down their bodies in a steady, welcoming stream.

He reached down and lifted her under her thighs, wrapping her around his body. Before she knew it, he was inside her, thrusting, kissing, savoring her like she was savoring him.

Never in a millennium did she think she’d be in the heart of the most beautiful Highland gardens, making love to a warrior Highland wolf. In a few weeks, she’d be marrying him dressed in traditional Highland clothes.

She thrust her tongue deep into his mouth, and he groaned, moving her around so that she no longer faced the rock wall behind him. All that she could see was his beautifully sculpted chest. What was he doing?

She felt her buttocks slide onto a smooth ledge, and his fingers moved to stroke her clit while the water rushed deliciously down her body, making her nub even more sensitive until she was arching against his fingers, begging him to finish her off.

His eyes were dusky with need as he dipped his head and again kissed her mouth, thrusting his tongue into it until she was gasping for breath, the climax so close she felt as though she were being swept up the falls and ready to go over the edge.

“Ahh, Duncan,” she moaned against his mouth, straining to draw on every bit of pleasure he was giving her, making it last until the cord broke. She felt the release and his immediate need to take her again.

At first, he thrust inside her as she sat on the ledge, but he wanted more. Again he lifted her, hugging her close, penetrating her to the core, ramming hard, in and out. Her body shuddered with release around him until he burst inside her, groaning her name, speaking in Gaelic, cursing her or offering loving sentiments—she didn’t know and didn’t care.

He was hers and she was his, and she wanted to do a lot more of this before the day was through.

She sighed, expecting that she’d have to work for a living here, teaching everyone who wanted to learn about botany before long. For now, she hoped everyone would let her and Duncan have a nice long honeymoon of sorts.

After they dressed, their skin and hair still wet—next time they’d bring towels—Duncan pulled the piece of paper out of his sporran and said, “Now I’ll give you a tour of the gardens, lass.”

She was ecstatic. When she explored the gardens again, she fully intended to bring her camera and notepad.

True to his word, he gave her a grand tour of the gardens, stumbling over Latin names for the plants as he led her through each of the special gardens—herb and vegetable garden, the flower garden, more of the hedge maze and sitting gardens, and the greenhouses where flowers and fruits and vegetables were growing. What tickled her most was that his cousin Heather had made up the list of all the gardens and what they contained so Duncan could give her a proper guided tour.

“Do you have any wolves here who are not royals?” she asked.

“Aye, a few.”

“Have you noticed that any plants they might have ingested could have affected their desire to shift?”

He shook his head. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m searching for something that might help them to fight the change or to shift when they need to.”

His mouth parted, then he raised his brows. “That’s why you were in that forest?”

“I’m thinking that the Amazon might have such a plant.”

He looked at her with new admiration and hugged her close. He actually looked like he was enjoying sharing with her everything about the different kinds of plants and what they were good for, too, which she loved.

“I’ll speak to Ian about us going there sometime later, if you’d like,” he said.

“I’d like that.”

“Jaguars are the predators there, you know. Wolves don’t rule in the Amazon.”

She raised her brows. “We’ll make do. They undoubtedly have never seen a brave Highland wolf and what he can do.”

He laughed.

Before they could reach the gate to leave, they heard Duncan’s mother arguing with Uncle Ethan beyond the walled garden. Shelley stiffened a little. Duncan kissed her cheek and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, as if to tell her that whatever her uncle or his mother said or did had nothing to do with Shelley or him.

“Are ye never going to let go of the past, Ethan Campbell? ’Tis a shame you canna appreciate what you’ve had since you left Scotland and what you have now,” Duncan’s mother scolded.

“’Twas fraught with hardships,” Ethan complained. “Several died who had to make their homes in the States.”

Shelley had heard that old tale forever.

“Aye, well, several died who stayed in Scotland as well. You should learn to appreciate the present. Look at my son and your niece. They are happy together. You should be well pleased to see the match.”

Uncle Ethan and Duncan’s mother stopped walking, and so did Duncan and Shelley. Her uncle and Duncan’s mother didn’t know they were in the gardens. Neither couple could see the other, and Shelley wanted to hear what her uncle and Duncan’s mother said to each other—good or bad. She wished they’d quit bickering. They’d been at it since Ethan and Shelley had first arrived and Duncan had escorted Shelley to his bedroom to sleep.

“Duncan’s Aunt Agnes said you were in a movie,” Ethan said.