“Aye, lass.” He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “I’m not good at this—this courtship phase with a wolf. I know what I want, and I’m fairly certain of what you want.”

“A mating?” she asked. She had to know. For certain.

“Aye, a mating.”

Did she want this? To be a pack leader, and not just in charge of a couple of beta cousins? Did she want to live here with Grant and his family and his clan?

“This isn’t a way for you to return to your chamber, is it?”

He chuckled. “You are a canny lass. But I don’t intend for you to sleep in the lady’s chamber, ever. You have a year to decide, but I will be working on convincing you the whole time that you wish to be mated to me.”

She opened her mouth to speak. If he put it that way, she would never last. She slipped her arms around his neck. “Try me.”

Someone pounded on the cellar door.

Colleen’s heart skipped a beat. “You locked the door?” she asked, hoping he had.

“Aye, how could I capture you if your pirate mateys showed up and came to your aid?” He brushed a kiss against her forehead.

“Colleen, are you in there?” Heather called out.

“Why is the door locked?” Julia asked.

“We are negotiating terms of surrender,” Grant hollered back. “I’m not releasing my captive maiden until we get this right.”

Colleen laughed at him. She could just imagine what the ladies would think of that. Was he playing? Or for real?

The ladies were silent for several heartbeats. Then Julia said, “Is this why you wanted to talk with me, Colleen?”

“Yes!” And leave it to Grant to keep her from doing so.

“Then I approve. Get on with the surrender terms. Tell Grant you accept his surrender in full. Don’t let him get anything by you.” Julia paused. “Can we get a bottle or two of wine first?”

Colleen loved Julia.

“You will have to wait,” Grant said, then winked at Colleen. “We are busy.”

“All right, just this time!” Julia said, then squeaked. “Run! Ian… Run, Heather! Get the troops!”

Colleen laughed. “I should be with my pirate cohorts, aiding them against the kilted lot of you.”

“You, lass, are out of the game. Except for the one you and I are playing now.”

She caressed his bare arms. “Does that mean you love me?”

“Ever since the day you recorded every bit of me sparring with Ian MacNeill.”

“I got your best side, too.”

“You got my arse!”

“Yes.” She laughed. “As I said, your best side.”

He reached around and cupped her buttocks. “Yours is not so bad, either. But do you love me?”

“From the time I saw you so valiantly fighting Ian, to when you slept as a wolf on the floor of the White Room and then rescued me and Ollie from the sea, I knew you were truly special. You are a good pack leader and clan chief, and I adore you.”

“And love me.”

She smiled wickedly and reached down to caress his kilt-covered buttocks. “Yeah, I do. It wasn’t hard to do. But I worried…”

“That I wasn’t like the other wolves in your life. You will not find that to be a problem.”

“Oh, I think I might,” she said.

And then he leaned down to kiss her, his mouth hungry on hers, but this time she wanted to hold him where he wouldn’t let her touch him the last time. She reached down, her hand slipping over the soft fake fur on his sporran, and felt his erection stir beneath it and his kilt.

Her touch had him groaning against her lips, right before he thrust his tongue into her mouth and leaned his erection against her hand.

His hands caressed her breasts and he smiled. “No bra, lassie.”

He’d know, as he’d retrieved it from Ian and Julia’s chamber and attached it to the pirate’s pole. He pulled her blouse down and exposed her nipples, the corset pushing her breasts up for his pleasure.

She lifted his kilt so she could cup him, and his eyes darkened with intrigue as she felt his cock, hard and pulsing and heavy in her grasp.

He groaned her name as she stroked him, right before he suckled one of her breasts, his mouth warm and wet, his tongue lathing her nipple. She moaned at the exquisite sensations he stirred deep inside her. She was becoming wet for him, and he knew it. Smelled her readiness, just as she smelled his.

She wanted to tell him how much he turned her on when he wore his kilt, but she suspected he already knew that or he wouldn’t have changed. She pulled it up so she could touch his tautly muscled buttocks, while his focus remained on her breasts, his tongue licking one, his thumb stroking the other. In the cool, damp cellar, she was burning up with his heated breath and touch.

She ran her hands over his ass, squeezing it, arching against his erection. He didn’t remove her clothes like she thought he would, but eased her onto the sacks of grain, fumbled then with her long pirate skirts, and yanked them up.

Omigod, this was so…medieval. She loved it. She didn’t attempt to remove his kilt. Just lifted it and saw his masculine need for her swelling to the occasion.

She never thought she would mate her next wolf like this—in a Highland castle’s wine cellar with a hot alpha wolf wearing a kilt and nothing else, while she wore a medieval wench’s gown and nothing underneath.

Then again, somehow it seemed appropriate to mate with a Highland alpha wolf just like this.

His large hand moved between her legs and urged her to spread them for him. He stroked and caressed her all-too-willing nub that ached for his touch. He kissed her mouth that was every bit as possessive and insistent. She licked and nipped his lips and tongue until he began to bring her to climax, and then her fingers dug into his sexy rump, her body arching to his strokes.

“Surrender,” he whispered to her.

She smiled, wanting his surrender first, and yet not. She needed this, to reach the peak, to explode into a million sparks of wonder, and before she could think another thought, she did. Shattered with the utmost intense pleasure.

Grant had decided this the moment Lachlan had handed him the signed petition from his pack. The feelings he had for her had been building since the minute he’d met her, despite him trying to deny it was so, and he’d known those feelings would end in this.