Colin had communicated with George Trevelyan several times through both email and phone conversations, but this was their first face-to-face meeting. After the glittering lobby, Colin had expected more of the same in George’s office, but the alpha Were surprised him.

The room had a rustic feel, as if they’d stepped into a lodge built by one of the Pacific Northwest tribes. An intricately carved totem pole stood in a corner to the right of George’s desk. Not surprisingly, it contained a stylized wolf’s head at the top. Other pieces of Native American art decorated the walls, and many of those depicted wolves as part of the design.

The wall to their left held no hanging art, but instead featured a mural with Mount Rainier in the background and a pack of wolves in the foreground. A casual visitor would call this a flight of fancy. Officially, no wolf packs lived west of the Cascade Mountains. Floor-to ceiling windows behind George’s desk offered a view of the distant peak depicted in the mural.

George himself looked like a rugged outdoorsman more than the CEO of Trevelyan Enterprises. Because it was a regular work day, Colin assumed that George always dressed casually. He wore jeans and a green flannel shirt open at the neck, as if he might head out for a hike at any minute. At fifty-something, he was fit, with only touches of gray in his dark hair. Colin hoped to look that good in twenty years.

George stood and came around the massive desk to greet them. He took Luna’s hand first and focused all his attention on her. “Luna Reynaud. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Colin was glad George was mated and nearly twice Luna’s age, because if he hadn’t been, Colin would have bristled at the warmth of George’s greeting. He seemed ready to eat Luna up with a spoon.

George continued to hold her hand as he piled on the charm. “My aunt Edwina married a Reynaud. You’re not related by any chance, are you?”

Colin sucked in a breath and cursed himself for not digging a little deeper. Worse yet, he was the idiot who’d pushed Luna into coming up here to meet George. Without realizing it, he’d thrown her into the deep end of the pool, and he had no idea if she would sink or swim.

Then, to his relief, she came up with a brilliant response. “I’m not really sure, but I’ve been meaning to check into that.” She sounded completely at ease.

“Please do.” George released her hand. “Edwina and Jacques haven’t had an easy time of it. Their only child, my cousin Byron, was killed in his early twenties many years ago. They’ve carried on bravely since then, but I’m sure they’d welcome more family connections.”

“Then I’ll definitely follow up.”

Colin noticed the faint tremor in her voice, but he’d come to know her well in the short time they’d been together. George probably wouldn’t hear it.

Next George held out his hand to Colin. “We meet at last, MacDowell! I’ve promised myself I’d come over there and play golf the way it was meant to be played, but I haven’t made it yet.”

“When you do, I’ll be happy to swing a club with you.”

“I’ll make it one day.” George shook a finger in warning. “But I’m a lousy golfer, so you may not want to admit you know me.” He swept a hand toward two cushy leather armchairs in front of his desk. “Sit down, please. I want to hear all about the plans for Whittier House.”

Luna sat, but Colin chose to perch on the wide arm of the other chair. It was a Were thing. George had leaned a hip against the front edge of his desk in a very casual way.

But the stance was far from casual. If Colin sat down in the squashy chair, he would no longer be able to look George in the eye. He might be younger than George, and he might not command George’s great wealth, but his title equaled George’s. The Laird of Glenbarra would never put himself in an inferior position to another alpha.

Luna, of course, was oblivious to all this jockeying. She immediately began describing her vision for the inn, and Colin listened with pride. It was a terrific concept, so terrific that he almost wished he’d thought of it himself.

George looked impressed. “When I first talked to Colin, he seemed hell-bent on selling the place, but this is a far better idea. I can understand why he went for it.”

Colin thought there might be a double meaning there. George could see that Luna was a charmer, and he also knew, following the request for a hotel room, that Colin was sleeping with her. But Colin’s relationship with Luna didn’t take anything away from the brilliance of her business plan.

“Weres don’t have very many resorts strictly dedicated to them,” Colin said. “The island is perfect—isolated with woods to roam in, yet with all kinds of amenities for those seeking luxury. Luna and I just bought a hot tub for the premises, at her suggestion. We plan to have a well-stocked library, a complementary cocktail hour every evening, and croquet tournaments.”

He’d thrown that last bit in, and Luna looked somewhat startled to hear it. But she wanted to keep the croquet playing field, and tournaments sounded like a crowd pleaser.

“Sounds terrific. I’d like to buy in,” George asked.

Colin winced. He should have anticipated this, and he hadn’t. “That’s a great offer, and I’ll keep it in mind. But we’re going to go it alone, at least initially.” Now that Whittier House belonged to him, he wanted to keep it that way. It was his project, his and Luna’s.

But he couldn’t predict the future, and alienating someone like George was never good business. “But if I change my mind about that, you’ll be the first person I call.”

“Make sure I am. And I’d like to be on the guest list for the opening weekend, as well. I already told Suzanne what was happening out there, and she’s wild to finally get the chance to see the island and the castle Henry built for Geraldine. She thinks it’s a romantic story.”

“So do I,” Luna said. “In fact, I’d like to bill Whittier House as a romantic getaway, if Colin is willing to use that as a marketing hook.”

“Absolutely.” Colin turned to George. “As you can see, Luna has good instincts.”

“And a great Southern accent,” George added with a benevolent smile. “Where’s your family from, Luna?”

Once again, Colin held his breath, not having any idea how Luna would handle such questions. He knew they were loaded, but George might not. Or maybe he did.

George was nobody’s fool, and once he’d heard about the inn concept, he’d obviously thought of investment opportunities. Following that, he would have done a background check on both Colin and Luna. He would have run into some dead ends with Luna. Colin had done a similar search this morning and had netted very little.

“I grew up in New Orleans for the most part,” she said. “But my parents didn’t like to stay in one place, so we didn’t belong to one particular pack. I regret that, now.”

Colin admired how she told the truth, but it was only true when interpreted a certain way. Her parents literally hadn’t stayed in one place together. Her mother had moved to New Orleans, and her father had stayed in Seattle, in a matter of speaking. His ashes were scattered somewhere, and that was another thing Luna deserved to know about. A connection with her grandparents would be so rewarding if it worked out.

“A nomadic Were family.” George sounded intrigued. “Did you inherit that tendency?”

“For a time,” Luna said, “when I was younger. But once I took the job with Geraldine, I found my home. I have no desire to live anywhere else.”

Colin had known she felt that way from the beginning, yet to hear her say it drove another nail in the coffin of his fantasy that somehow, someway, they could end up together in Scotland. The idea made no sense, yet he wasn’t sure how he’d live out the rest of his days without her.

“That’s good to hear,” George said. “I’m all in favor of having a Were destination resort here in the Seattle area. Those Colorado Weres have the only one so far, and they’re raking in the profits. That proves there’s a market for it. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help get this off the ground.” He pushed away from his desk.

Colin read that as a signal that the visit was over. Standing, he offered a hand to Luna. She accepted it, because the chair was extremely deep. Colin hated to think of how he would have lost status if he’d sat in the other one. He doubted George had expected him to.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Luna said as she shook George’s hand. “It’s important to have friends in the community when you’re launching a new business.”

“I have a feeling you’ll be very successful.” George released her hand and glanced over at Colin. “The reservation’s made, by the way, and the room’s paid for, with my compliments.”

Colin frowned. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Just promise you’ll get me a tee time at St. Andrews when I show up there, and we’ll call it even.”

“I’ll do that.” Colin shook George’s hand, and the interview was over.

When they were in the elevator headed back down to the lobby, Luna sagged against the mirrored elevator wall. “That was challenging.”

Colin put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. “You were amazing.”

She glanced up at him, a gleam of suspicion in her eyes. “Did y’all know my grandmother was his aunt?”

“I didn’t, and I apologize for that. Please believe that if I’d known I would have warned you.”

“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have gone up there.”

“But you did, and you impressed him. He’ll support your business, and that kind of support could make a big difference.”

She sighed. “Until he finds out that I’m the illegitimate child of his late cousin Byron.” Her eyes widened. “I think that means I’m related to George Trevelyan!”

“I wondered when you’d figure that out.”

She closed her eyes. “All I ever wanted was to hide out on that island. And that’s looking increasingly impossible. I’m a part of the Trevelyan pack, whether I want to be or not, and eventually that will come out.”

Leaning down, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Have you ever thought that maybe you weren’t meant to hide out somewhere? That you were meant for something more grand than living like a hermit on Le Floret?”

“Y’all make it sound like some kind of destiny or something.”

“Maybe it is, Luna.” He thought about the premonition he’d had when he’d realized that her name blended perfectly with his cherished love of the heavens. “Maybe it is.”

Luna’s mood improved once she and Colin left the Trevelyan Enterprises building. She had to make a decision about whether or not to visit her grandparents, but she didn’t have to make it now. Instead she and Colin could explore Seattle, and the city in June was a magical place, especially for lovers. Much as she’d adored Geraldine, Colin was a more exciting companion.

He insisted on going into an upscale department store to buy the clothes they’d need for the following day. He bought sensible things, a change of underwear and a cotton shirt, but he nagged her mercilessly until she ended up with a pair of designer jeans and a ridiculously expensive silk blouse that matched her eyes. Or so Colin said when she walked out of the dressing room wearing it.

He took part in choosing her underwear, too, and so naturally it was black lace. “Why do males have this thing about black lace?” she asked him after they left the lingerie department, each with their purchases in a snazzy bag with handles.

“Conditioning, I suppose.” He laced his fingers through hers as they strolled along the sidewalk toward Pike’s Place Market, where they planned to browse through some bookshops. “Black is the color of night, of mystery, of the forbidden.”

She laughed and swung her shopping bag back and forth, feeling carefree and slightly decadent. “I don’t remember forbidding anything to y’all. I’ve pretty much given the Laird of Glenbarra carte blanche.”

“And I hope you know that I don’t take that lightly, especially considering…”

“I know. And I appreciate it.” Her heart softened. Colin had his flaws, but at his core he was inherently decent.

“You’d have every right to forbid me everything, and yet, generous female that you are, you haven’t.”

“Don’t give me too much credit. I’m getting something out of the arrangement, too.”

“I hope so.” He lifted her hand and dropped a gentle kiss on the inside of her wrist.

She shivered in delight. The Laird of Glenbarra did have a boatload of charm. “You’ve fascinated me since the moment you walked through the door of Whittier House.”

“And I was fascinated with you from the beginning, too. You were the prettiest Were I’d ever seen, and your laughter was balm to my soul.”

“I’m glad.” She was so unused to getting compliments from male Weres that each one Colin gave her seemed like a glittering jewel presented in a velvet box.

They reached the market, a covered row of shops and stalls selling everything under the sun, it seemed. Fish, vegetables, flowers, New Age products, antiques, crafts—Luna was on sensory overload. And somewhere in this visual kaleidoscope was a bookstore. Colin had looked it up.

“What was everyone laughing about that morning, anyway?” he asked. “I meant to ask you that before.”

“It was…” She was embarrassed to think how stupid that conversation had been, but at the time, they’d all been so tense that everything had seemed funny. “It was nothing.”

“Ah, come on, Luna.” He squeezed her hand. “Let me in on the joke.”

“It won’t be funny anymore, but all right. We were confused about Scottish titles and thought a laird might logically have a lairdess, which somebody mispronounced as lard-ass, and Janet started prancing around with her bottom stuck out.” She snuck a glance at him. “See? Not funny.”

He grinned. “Oh, it’s funny, especially when I visualize Janet putting on a demonstration. If the question ever comes up again, the proper term is lady, not lairdess.”

“Well, that’s easy enough to remember.” She, for one, would never forget it. Knowing the title his mate would hold made it very clear to her that he would move on, and she would not move on with him. Her happy mood dimmed a fraction. She might be his lover now, but she would never be his lady. And despite understanding completely why that was so, she couldn’t help being sad about that.

“Luna?”

She looked at him and forced herself to smile. “What?”

“I just wondered. You were quiet all of a sudden.”

She grabbed the first evasive comment that came to mind. “I was just thinking about something.”

“Must have been a serious subject.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to be a Debbie Downer.”

“A who?”

“American slang. It means someone who looks on the negative side of everything and ruins the mood.” She brought up a topic that she knew interested him. “Here’s a thought. What if Edwina and Jacques Reynaud come here to shop?” She could let him assume she’d been dwelling on a potential visit to her grandparents. She would never ever admit that she fantasized about being his mate. It wouldn’t work, and she should just quit torturing herself about it.

“They might shop here,” he said. “It’s obviously a popular place.”

“They could even be here now. We could walk right past them and I’d never know.”

“I have a picture of their house on my phone.”

“Really? Can I see it?” She was legitimately interested in that. With Colin here to give her courage, she might even decide to go see them tomorrow. Maybe it was time to slay this dragon once and for all.

“Of course. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to.” He reached inside his jacket for his phone.

“Wait. Don’t take out your phone in the middle of this crowd. We need to keep moving or we’ll get trampled to death. I can look at it once we’re in the bookstore.”

“Fair enough. And speaking of the bookstore, there it is.” He pointed to their right and they ducked inside.

Luna took a deep breath. “Ah. Love that smell.”

“Then maybe I’ll buy a really old, tattered book and rub it all over myself tonight.”

She laughed and glanced around to see if anyone had heard that remark. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention. The clerks were busy ringing up purchases and the browsers all had that dreamy expression found on the faces of true book lovers surrounded by the objects of their affection.

She leaned close to Colin. “I seem to remember y’all also love the smell of old books.”

“I do.” He gazed down at her, amusement in his blue eyes. “I’d suggest scattering pages all over the bed so we can roll around in them, but that would require destroying a book, and I’m not sure I can do that.”

“I couldn’t, either, but it’s fun to think about. Like a copy of Lady Chatterly’s Lover. We could stop every once in awhile and read a page for inspiration.”

“I can’t speak for you, but I don’t seem to require more inspiration in your presence. In fact, if we stand here talking about this much longer, I’ll have to browse the shelves holding a shopping bag in front of my crotch.”

“Don’t blame me, your lairdness. I’m not the one who started this conversation by mentioning that I might rub book pages all over my naked body.”

“I didn’t use the word naked.”

“No, but it was implied, and I have reactions, too, for your information.”

“You do?” He let go of her hand and wrapped his long fingers around her upper arm. “Then come with me, little girl. I have some books I want to show you.”

She allowed herself to be pulled up and down the aisles until he found one that was deserted. Then he set down his shopping bag and pulled her into his arms. “I wanted to do this when we were in Henry’s library together, but I didn’t, so I’m making up for it now.” Lowering his head, he kissed her with such focus and intensity that her shopping bag slid from her limp fingers and hit the floor with a soft thump. She didn’t bother to pick it up.