“Not on your life.”

She sighed and snuggled close as he continued to dance with her. The problem with seeing other male wolves was if the wolf became thoroughly interested in the she-wolf, he wouldn’t want her to see anyone else. Even if she wasn’t certain the match was a good one.

Then she would be right back to being with another wolf like Baird.

“I’m a little bit…” She began to say “needy,” but she didn’t want to ruin the moment. “Well…” What then? “I hate to say…” That she was confused? That she needed more time? What if she didn’t? What if Guthrie was just the kind of wolf she needed in her life?

Oh, hell, her parents would have fits. Not that they didn’t like the MacNeill family, but she could see them both shaking their heads at her, telling her it was too soon. To wait. To date a bunch of male wolves until she found the right one. If Guthrie turned out to be the right one, he’d wait for her to make up her mind, wouldn’t he? But every time she was with him, she didn’t want to wait. Oh, damn it all.

He cast her an elusive smile as if he could tell he was turning her thoughts inside out. That she was already hung up on him, a great deal.

“We’ll just dance,” she said, determined that was all there would be between them. For now.

“All right by me,” he whispered against her cheek.

Wondering if she might dance with someone else, she looked around at the other dancers. She had no plans to date any more humans. She wanted a mate. Sighing, she couldn’t tell which of the males were wolves unless she went up and smelled them or asked. Some of them looked halfway interesting, like the vampire across the room who bowed his head slightly to her, or the guy in the three-cornered hat with the plumed feather poking out of it, looking like he was one of the Three Musketeers. He winked at her.

She suddenly felt self-conscious. Did they think she was easy because of the way she’d been dancing with Guthrie? Kissing him? Looking as though they needed to get a room?

“You wanted a dance partner who was willing to dance with you all night long,” Guthrie whispered into her ear as if he was speaking seductively to her, almost like he was telling the other men she’d chanced to look at that she was taken. “One dance partner,” he said.

She smiled up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t you think I should dance with others a little? What if there is a she-wolf here that could prove intriguing to you?”

She was serious. Even though she didn’t want to give this up, she didn’t want to spoil Guthrie’s chance to have fun if he saw a woman he’d like to dance with. Even someone like Ivy with her short skirt and swinging wolf’s tail. What if Calla was only filling some craving for him too?

From what Calla had gathered, Guthrie was always helping with one thing or another, and he didn’t seem to take a lot of time to just enjoy life’s little pleasures.

“You asked me here. If nothing else, I’m protecting you,” Guthrie said.

“Ah.” The bit about protecting her again. Not that he was just hot for her body like she was for his. Darn it. “The kiss was just…?”

He smiled.

“For show?” she offered, since he wouldn’t say.

“What do you think?”

“I think I’m getting in way over my head.”

He chuckled. “Probably.”

She was. She’d known it the moment he kissed her under the Christmas tree. She could fret about this, worry that he wasn’t the right one for all eternity, and still not get him out of her system, she thought.

“Did you want to cool down a bit and get a drink?”

“Why? Are you hot?” She meant because they had been dancing so close and the crush of people around them was making the room hotter. Not to mention that her gown was warm and his wool sweater had to be too.

He grinned at the question. “Am I?”

Smiling, she shook her head in amusement. “Yeah, but I’m not talking about that right now. Let’s get a drink and then we can dance some more afterward.”

They hadn’t even made it to the refreshment table when they heard the clanging of swords in the front foyer and a woman’s scream.

Chapter 14

Immediately, Guthrie’s blood surged with adrenaline, making him ready for battle. He recognized that Oran was engaging someone from the way his sword struck the aggressor’s weapon, and the speed and force with which he struck. Guthrie desperately wanted to see who was fighting Oran, but he kept Calla by his side and out of harm’s way in case it was a ploy to draw him away from her. He wasn’t about to leave her behind, and he wasn’t going to take her into the fray.

He glanced around to see if anyone else was carrying a sword. One man dressed as a World War I soldier in a khaki kilt, service dress jacket, and low boots. The man dressed as a Musketeer had one too, but he was gone.

Guthrie heard a sword hit a wall and drop to the wooden floor in the foyer. People who were watching the sword fight clapped. Cearnach came into the great hall and motioned to Guthrie that all was clear.

“I wonder what that was all about,” Calla said as the music started again.

“Not Baird or his men or he would have been…” Then Guthrie saw him, clear as day, dancing with a woman in a gold gown and mask.

“What?” Calla asked, turning to see what he was staring at.

“Baird’s here, dancing over there. Whoever was fighting with Oran must have been a diversion for Baird to get in.”