Heart of the Highland Wolf (Heart of the Wolf #7)

Heart of the Highland Wolf (Heart of the Wolf #7) Page 51

Ian swept Julia up into his arms as cheers in Gaelic, whoops, and hollers rent the air. He stalked toward the castle with his bundle of soft, warm woman.

When he entered the keep, the place was quiet since everyone was still outside wrapping up business. His brothers and the others would watch the film crew and would not leave the inner or outer bailey until everyone who didn’t belong was let out for the night and the gates shut and locked.

He carried her through the great hall to the stairs.

The sound of running feet behind him didn’t make him slow his pace. He recognized the footfalls. Maria’s.

“Laird MacNeill,” she called out.

“Talk to her,” Julia said, her sparkling green eyes beseeching him.

“We have other business to attend to,” he said under his breath.

She made a face at him. “Oh, right, and it’s not like you’re subtle about it, Ian. I mean, everyone here today knows just where you’re taking me.”

His mouth curved up marginally, although he still couldn’t rid himself of Basil’s haunting words. That Julia was his, not Ian’s. “Everyone needs to know you are mine.”

“As if anyone would be that clueless.”

Maria dove in front of Ian, but he quickly sidestepped the lass. “Not now, Miss Baquero.”

“Laird MacNeill, Howard wanted me to tell you that you were brilliant,” Maria said, running beside him.

“Aye, he has the right of it.”

Julia shook her head. “Did he also mention how humble Ian is?”

Maria smiled and then continued, “You don’t have much of a part at the final feast, but he wants to give you a bigger role. He wants you to kill off your archenemy on screen.”

Ian raised his brow at Maria.

“Not for real, of course. Will you agree?”

“I don’t want Basil or his men inside the castle. My men and Harold’s actors will be there.”

“We’ve discussed this before. They’re contracted as background performers, and without just cause to let them go—”

“Maria,” Julia said, “you know the animosity that exists between the two clans and how dangerous that powder-keg combination can be.”

“That’s what Howard loves about it. It looks so real. No one could act the way Ian and his men do when fighting against Sutherland and his men. Harold swore he was watching a real battle in the bailey just now.”

“Which he was,” Julia reminded her.

Ian headed for the stairs with Julia still clasped tightly in his arms.

“Please agree to do this small last part, Laird MacNeill,” Maria tried again. “He wants you to sit at the head table with John Duvall while Julia is sitting at one of the lower tables. Then Basil makes a move on Julia and—”

“No,” Ian ground out. “Julia will take no part in any of this.”

“He’s offering a lot of money. He wants you both in this scene.”

Without answering her, Ian stalked up the stairs.

“If the price is right, we can do it,” Julia said, smiling up at Ian. “He can pay for my flight here, the cost of the lodging, and wages for the scene.”

“Who is the laird of Argent?” he asked Julia gruffly.

She smiled wickedly. “Oh you are, my laird. Settle the matter between you and Sutherland once and for all.”

“It’ll never be settled,” he said darkly.

“I’ll tell Howard you’re agreeable.” Maria hurried back the way she came.

“Besides,” Julia said, smiling up at him in way too willful a manner, “I’m the lady of the castle, and you would be remiss in not remembering that. Particularly when it used to be my castle.”

“Then I will have to prove again to you who is laird.” And with that declaration, Ian carried his bonny mate into his bedchamber with every intention of making the world kneel at her feet as she did for him.

Chapter 23

For days, while the filming continued on scenes involving the cast of main characters only, Cearnach and several of the MacNeill clansmen ensured that the director accessed only those locations already agreed upon. In the meantime, Julia, Ian, and his remaining brothers; a few cousins, including Heather; and even Aunt Agnes searched the castle for the secret niche where the MacPhersons had hidden the box. Aunt Agnes was sure she knew where the cache was hidden on numerous occasions and, when proven wrong, excitedly explained where she thought it might be next.

When they were still unsuccessful, Julia seemed so disappointed that Ian took her back to the falls, except this time, riding horses with the dogs in tow and an escort, as if they were living in the past and the enemy clan was all around them. And it had become so once Basil and his men had signed up as background performers and come after Ian and Julia in their wolf forms near Baird Cottage.

Her feet bare, her jeans rolled up and showing off her slender calves, Julia sat on the edge of a boulder and took in deep breaths to sample the fresh air and the cold moving water, her face tilted up to the sun, her eyes closed. Her red hair was loose and fluttering in the breeze, while light blue jeans and a pale blue sweater outlined her shapely curves. She was stunning, as much a part of the picturesque scene as the frothy water rushing across moss-covered boulders and trees shading the fringes.

Ian thought he’d never look at the falls in the same way again—as just part of the landscape with nothing to make him stop and enjoy them on a partly sunny summer day. He’d always equate the falls with Julia now, and the way she had made him take pleasure in the scenery and realize just how blessed he was with her in his life. Julia was the one who made all the difference in the world to him.

He removed his boots and socks, and then sat behind her on the rock, pulling her between his legs, his arms wrapped around her, his chin resting on the top of her head, his knees boxing her in. Her back melted against his chest, relaxed and at peace.

He wanted to find the box as much as he knew she did. He was curious about its contents and why her grandfather was so adamant that no one should see them. But all that really mattered was that Julia and he had found each other. “You know, lass, you are a treasure to me.”

“Hmm,” she said, snuggling closer. “If you’re trying to make me feel better about not finding the box, you are. Coming here and being with you like this…” She sighed. “I wonder what it would have been like in earlier times.”

“Much like it is now,” Ian said. “The rocks, the water, the trees. We would have had the horses, a guard, and the dogs with us just like today. Will you write that in your story?”

She caressed his knee. “I will, but only in a fictional way. I need to talk to you about something else, though.”

“Aye.” He kissed her head, hoping the something else wasn’t too grave an issue. “What is troubling you then?”

“I have a book signing scheduled for Powell’s in Portland, Oregon, and other appearances I must make for a couple of new releases.”

He frowned. “More ‘Getting into Bed with Julia Wildthorn’ interviews? Can you not at least disguise your author picture some?”

She chuckled. “Wildthorn is a pen name, and I won’t be using the MacNeill name, which would scandalize your mother.”

“I believe she is coming to terms with what you do.” He leaned over and kissed Julia’s soft cheek.

“Oh? She hasn’t spoken to me once. At least your Aunt Agnes is helping us look for the box. She’s funny. Her face lights up so when she has another thought of where it could be, and off we are on another wild-goose chase.”

“Aunt Agnes has read your books. Every one of them. And she even had Duncan rent a video of Romancing the Wolf and then watched it with several of our people in the pool room.”

“When?”

Julia sounded so surprised that he smiled and kissed her cheek again, and then hugged her tighter. “When you and I were abovestairs making love.”

“That really pins down the time.” She sighed. “So what did everyone think of it?”

“Aunt Agnes was livid that the heroine ended up with a human for her mate, when your story showed that she was mated to the alpha leader of the pack.”

“That’s Hollywood for you. They thought that humans would appreciate it more if the heroine fell in love with the human and he didn’t try to kill her. It’s a human thing, I’m sure.”

“But it was not your story.”

“Yes, but to get a story into movie format, sometimes authors have to give in a bit. Your mother didn’t watch the movie?”

He chuckled. “Unless it’s BBC, Mum doesn’t watch the telly. Aunt Agnes wanted to know if you could change your name to MacNeill on your books to honor us.”

“Hmm, I’m sure that would really go over well with your mother.”

“You only have to be concerned with how I feel about it.”

Julia looked back at him. “So how do you feel about it?”

“Whatever makes you happy, love. About these book commitments you have, can you just do them online?”

“No.”

Her bluntness amused him. “Then I will have to accompany you.”

She smiled, her look so pleased that he was glad to oblige. “Would you?”

“No mate of mine is running around the world by herself. Didn’t I mention this when we first met? That there are too many wolves about?”

“Oh, Ian, I would love for you to…” She paused, and then her eyes widened. “You could wear your kilt.”

“I only wear it for special occasions.”

“Oh yes, this would be special. The women would fall all over themselves to see you in a kilt.”

“I would not want women hurting themselves to see me in a kilt, although I believe you exaggerate a wee bit.”

“Believe me, I don’t exaggerate. One look at you in your plaid, and you’ll have them swooning in the aisles.”