She swore Grant’s eyes misted with tears. And she hugged him to say she was sorry for his losses, and to thank him for saving her and Ollie.

For a long time, he held her close, rubbing one hand down her back, his other lying gently on her hip. His head rested on the top of hers, her cheek pressed against his chest. He smelled of his shower, of spices, and more—an interested male wolf.

“I nearly had a heart attack seeing the two of you in the water like that.”

Then she realized how deeply affected he had to have been, with the memories of his mother and father drowning off those same cliffs, and his inability to save them. “You were so brave to jump in after us.”

“I acted on instinct,” he said.

“Just like I did,” she said, sighing against his chest, listening to his heart racing, smelling his hot wolf interest.

He cupped her face and lifted it so he could gaze into her eyes. “Next time…”

She heard the scold in his tone of voice. “Let’s not let there be a next time.” And this time, she initiated the kiss—but not on his cheek.

The pipes grumbled in the bathroom, and she cast Grant an elusive smile before they got back to kissing—the hot, heavy, and needy kind.

Grant rubbed his body affectionately against hers, tantalizing her, making her body heat and tighten and moisten just for him.

Tongues came into play, and with the fire and their kissing, she was burning up. She didn’t figure it would go any further than some really hot kissing, but the next thing she knew, he was stroking his hand down her back, and she had her arms about his neck while she gyrated against him. She hadn’t meant to, not the way she was dressed, but it just seemed like a natural thing to do with him.

All she could think about was him in a kilt, and then him without, and how his very hard body was making her feel hot and desirable. She couldn’t help but want to rub up against him in a wolf’s courtship kind of way. Did he know how much his touch affected her?

Yes. He could smell her turned-on scent just like she recognized his. So it had been just as much of a turn-on for him.

What was it about the alpha Highland wolf that made her lose her business sense and want to take this in a different direction?

“Lass,” Grant groaned against her ear as his body moved against hers.

She loved the way he sounded like he was dying to have her. He cupped her velvet-covered breasts, caressing her mouth with his, their breath coming quickly.

He slipped his hand inside her robe to touch her breast and froze.

“I didn’t expect company,” she said and sucked on his tongue, not about to apologize or be embarrassed. Even if she was.

He reached for her tie and smiled such a wolfishly wicked grin that she quickly stayed his hands. “Not too far.”

“Agreed,” he said, his voice rough with need.

As wolves, mating was for a lifetime. If they were careful, fooling around was the only alternative for sexy wolf loving without the forever commitment. Not that wolves took even this kind of sexual play this far unless they believed they might have something to build on.

Then he untied her robe and parted it. She heard his intake of breath before he murmured, “Beautiful.”

“You probably say that to all the women you rescue from the sea,” she said.

“Since you are the only woman I’ve ever rescued from the sea, aye,” he said, smiling.

He leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth as his hand stroked the other, making her wrap her leg around his calf and rub. She would leave her scent on him, like a wolf claiming him, even if this wasn’t forever.

Her fingers slipped under his shirt, and for the first time, she was able to lightly scratch his back, running her fingers up and down his skin, adoring every bit of him.

Every part of him was sexy. His mouth was made for kissing, she decided as she combed her fingers through his hair and kissed him back, feathering, nipping, licking, pressuring. Before she knew it, she was on his bed—the laird’s bed—their pulses racing to the moon, the heat flaring between them.

She hadn’t been with a man like this in a very long time, and their passionate touches were wilder and more intimate then she had ever experienced.

He stroked his hand down her belly.

Her body pulsed with excitement as he nibbled her ear, his hand drawing lower, through her curls, and then between her legs. She barely breathed as she anticipated his fingers stroking her, slipping inside her, plunging deep.

She wished they could make love all the way.

She couldn’t resist touching him any more than he could her, but this time, Grant was fully dressed. Did he feel they were safer that way?

Burning with unquenchable need, she sucked in her breath as his fingers stroked her, just as she’d imagined they would, his gaze steady on hers, watching her reaction, adjusting to the way his touch made her feel.

She wanted to jerk his shirt off and yank down his pants, but he was stroking her into submission. As much as she couldn’t believe she would submit to an alpha male, she couldn’t think or feel beyond the pleasure of his…touch.

And then she had the sensation of being lifted heavenward as he renewed his kisses on her mouth. They were insistent, bold, and hungry, until she couldn’t halt the wondrous feeling carrying her away. She cried out, loving the way he’d made her come, the intimacy, and passion unlike anything she’d experienced before.

She pulled at his pants again and tugged at his shirt, but he kissed her softly on the mouth and then the forehead, saying it was over in a maddeningly frustrating way. She wanted to pleasure him as he had her.