“Why not see if the lass would agree to move into the newly painted chambers?” Lachlan asked.

“Just the thought I had.” Grant felt as though he’d been dethroned once he lost the right to sleep in his own chamber.

Worse, he hated how anxious he felt about her checking over the books tomorrow.

As to the kiss? He had wanted to apologize to her for kissing her on the hilltop. But when she had kissed him on the cheek in such a benign way? Bloody hell. He couldn’t let her think that that was acceptable, either.

What had he been thinking? How much he wanted to kiss her again and see if it was just as hot as the first time. And it was, which led him to want a longer kiss, and a hell of a lot more. Putting on the brakes had been harder than he ever had imagined it could be.

And that was the first sign he was truly losing the battle against the lass—in all manner of ways.

Chapter 13

Early the next morning, Colleen was eager to peruse the estate’s finances, and she seemed to be trying to keep their relationship more businesslike. She was trying to keep from looking at Grant—like a woman who was afraid to show any interest in a man. Not lowering her eyes in a come-hither way, but more indicating that she couldn’t deal with this right now. She was cheery, both during breakfast and after as she’d followed him to the office, so she hadn’t seemed upset about the kissing, but she was attempting to avoid the issue.

And he should have, too. So why did he keep trying to catch her eye, wanting something more? A word that something else was going on between them? That this wasn’t some imagined and passing fancy?

Trying to get his mind on the subject at hand, Grant looked down at Colleen seated at the desk, appearing totally enraptured with the graphs. He knew her ancestors were brilliant mathematicians, but that didn’t mean the gene would always be carried down from generation to generation. Her father had taken issue with a number of expenses—just to give Grant a hard time—but in the end he couldn’t find fault with the way Grant had managed the properties.

Since that time, they’d had the theft in the kitchen.

So when he pulled up the information on his computer, he was surprised to see Colleen set up statistical graphs—one of her ancestors had invented them, sure, but—

She very studiously created them for a vast number of fiscal years, for everything from food supplies to maintenance on the buildings. He watched her, fascinated at how quickly she set them up, as if she did this on a regular basis.

“Like graphs, eh?” he asked, stating the obvious.

She smiled. “My favorite kind of math. Pictorial, great for seeing trends, much easier on the eyes than looking at tons of numbers.”

“Hmm,” he said. He had to admit she was right.

She continued to work on it while he watched, half trying to sense what she felt as she looked over the charts, while hoping the accounts would meet her expectations.

She finally looked back at him as he watched over her shoulder. “You don’t have to stay here. It’ll probably take me a couple of days to make up all the charts and go over them. Maybe longer.”

“Aye, then, lass. If you need anything else, just call me.”

“I will. Thanks, Grant.”

He hesitated to leave. He realized just how unlike her father she was. Not bombastic, take charge—even if she did kick him out of his bedchamber—not cold and calculating. He wondered how she’d act when she found the discrepancies in the foodstuffs, though. His stomach clenched a little at the notion.

He left then, knowing he had a busy day ahead of him, seeing to his people’s needs, ensuring everything ran smoothly, and yet, all he could think of was what Colleen might say about the finances.

Later that afternoon, everyone gathered for the meal, except Colleen. Maybe the time had slipped away from her.

Grant said to Darby, “Will you fetch the lass? Let her know the meal is served.”

Darby let out his breath. “Aye, I will. Do you want me to spy on her when I do it? See how she’s feeling concerning the finances?”

Grant shook his head. “We’ll know soon enough.”

“She’s not much like her father,” Enrick said. “I mean about the charts and graphs. He just took exception to the numbers when he didn’t like them, even though there was nothing wrong with them.”

“Aye.”

Everyone waited to eat until Grant gave the word.

Sitting on the other side of Enrick, Lachlan said, “Did she seem upset about anything when she was looking over the graphs?”

“Nay. She was mainly just charting the figures way back as far as she could go.”

“What will that tell her? The world has changed so much since the early days when the castle was first built,” Enrick said. “Not even her father cared about that. He only wanted to see the financial income and expenses for the two years before he inherited the properties.”

“Aye. She seemed enthralled with developing the charts, seeing the history. We have nothing to worry about.” Grant hoped.

Darby entered the great hall without the lass, but Grant assumed she was coming. Darby shook his head.

“Eat,” Grant said to his people. They had work to get back to.

Darby joined him and leaned over to whisper, “She isn’t in your study.”

Grant frowned. “What?”

“Aye. She had turned off the monitor, and she’s still got the files up, but she wasn’t there.”

“The bathroom?”

“I checked. Nay.”

Where the hell was she? Maybe…taking a nap? “Did you check the lady’s chamber?”

“Aye. She was not there, either.”

If she had forgotten about the time, he hated for her to miss the meal, but on the other hand, he didn’t want anyone else to have to miss theirs to search for her when there was no real need.

He pulled out his cell phone and called her. No answer.

His first thought was the seawall and her misadventure there. Then her running off to the village more than two hours away. Now what? He had to remind himself that she could do what she liked with her time. She was not a member of his pack.

Then he realized his men had returned her rental car, and she hadn’t asked for the keys to his car. She had to be on the property.

“Okay, thanks, Darby. Enjoy your meal.”

Enrick buttered a slice of bread. “So where do you think she is?”