“Is she feeling bad?” Grant asked, shoving his shoes on, concerned about her health.

“If you were a wee lassie half-drowned in the icy water and banged up against the rocks, wouldn’t you be?” Darby asked.

Grant conceded his valet was right. “Aye, of course, I’ll see to her.”

“To eat with her, maybe?” Maynard asked, looking hopeful.

Grant studied them for a moment. “Set the tray on my table. I’ll see if she wishes the company first.” He couldn’t assume she would.

“But you’ll stay close at hand if she needs you, aye, my laird?” Darby asked.

“What is this all about?” Grant asked, suspecting his men were up to something more than concern for the lass.

“You should mate her,” Darby whispered, as if Colleen might be able to hear him through all the stone walls dividing the rooms.

“What brought this all on?” Grant asked, surprised as hell. Though he suspected his people thought his mating would ensure they never had to worry about the owner of the property deciding to get rid of the pack.

“She saved Ollie,” Darby said, as if that said it all.

Maynard nodded emphatically.

“Aye, but that doesn’t mean the lass is interested in staying here or mating with me.” Or that he wished to mate her. He’d considered it briefly, but the ramifications of this being for a lifetime, since they lived very long lives, and concern that she’d get homesick and want to return to America…

“She hasn’t been mated in a really long time,” Darby said, as if that should make all the difference in the world.

Grant frowned at him, then folded his arms. “Have you been checking into her background?”

Darby stiffened further. “We had to be certain she would suit.”

“You mean, suit me?” Grant was amused, though he couldn’t let on.

“Aye, of course, my laird. Not me,” Darby said, sounding indignant.

Maynard tried to stifle a chuckle.

Grant attempted to keep a straight face, barely managing. “Well…would she?”

“Would she what?” Darby asked, looking puzzled.

“Suit? Me?”

“Well, she has not been mated in a very long time.”

Grant almost laughed. “Was that the only remarkable thing you learned about the lass?” He wasn’t about to tell Darby that he had also done some checking up on her once she came into the inheritance. So he knew she’d been mated twice. But was not currently mated. No offspring, and they had seemed to be happy matings. Could she have no children of her own?

“She had two mates,” Darby whispered. “Both died of legitimate causes, no foul play, and she had nothing to do with their deaths.”

“You’re worried about me.” Grant was surprised, amused, and pleased.

“Aye, always, my laird,” Darby said. “But I believe you will be safe with her.”

“Thank you. I will check on the lass, then.” Grant waited for them to leave. He wasn’t going to speak with her while Darby and Maynard breathed down his neck.

“Do…you need any help in…well…” Darby glanced at Maynard, who motioned for him to get on with it. “With…courting the lass? We could ensure you had picnic lunches, meals set out in the gardens at a table for two…”

“It’s supposed to storm the rest of the week.”

“Aye, well, later. Whenever the weather is good. Or we could—”

“Nay, I’m not courting the lass. She is the owner of the castle, nothing more.”

“She saved Ollie,” Darby reminded him.

“Aye, she was a brave lass to do so, but as I said, it doesn’t mean she wishes to join our pack or be mated to me. Off with the both of you now so I can ask if she wishes to dine with me tonight.”

“Aye, of course,” Darby said, ushering Maynard out of the chamber.

Grant wondered if his brothers knew anything about this as he stepped into the hall and knocked on Colleen’s door, half expecting her to say she was too tired to eat with him or anyone else.

Yet he was hoping she might consider dining with him. He thought he might enjoy courting her—but without his people pushing him to do so.

Chapter 15

Still chilled to the bone, Colleen sat by the fire in her emerald velvet robe, Norse-decorated sheepskin boots, and nothing else, intending to slip into bed afterward. She sipped her hot tea and was about to spoon up some of the fish stew Maynard had so thoughtfully brought up to her when a knock on the door sounded.

“Yes?” she called out. She was exhausted and glad to eat up here and not in front of Grant’s clan tonight. Thankfully, she was okay, except for still being chilled and weary.

“It’s me, Grant.”

A little more than surprised, though she suspected he wanted to ensure she was uninjured, she said, “You can come in.”

He opened the door and stood there, taking her in with a sweep of his gaze. “Are you all right?” He was frowning and looked concerned.

“Tired, cold still, but getting warmer. How about you? And Ollie?”

“No need to worry about me. Ollie’s fine. Grounded. And so is his friend Troy. But otherwise he is safe and sound, thanks to you. Would you mind too much if I joined you for dinner?”

“Here?” she asked. She wasn’t properly dressed to eat with Grant in the bedchamber or anywhere else tonight. And why wouldn’t he be eating with his pack?

“Aye, if you don’t mind.”

She hesitated. He would never guess she was naked under the robe. “I’d like that very much. Come, join me.” She thought he meant to share her meal right then and there.

But he said, “I’ll be right back.”

Before she could consider removing her robe and throwing on some jeans and a sweater, he returned with a tray of food, and she realized Maynard must have also left Grant’s meal in his room and Grant wanted company.

“You didn’t plan to eat with your people tonight?”

“I wanted to be close by in case you needed anything,” he said, sitting down at the table with her. He sounded genuinely apprehensive.

His concern touched her. “I really am fine.”

The square oak table in her room seemed even smaller when trying to accommodate Grant’s long legs. His knees brushed hers when he sat down and felt wickedly seductive. She was shocked at the touch, but more so when his mouth curved up marginally.