She was trying not to chuckle at the way he was touching her. She just hoped that anyone watching saw her trying to concentrate on his instruction—and not the way his touch was turning her on.
“Now it’s time to nock an arrow,” he said.
He helped her nock the arrow on the string and prepare to shoot with one finger above the nock point and two fingers below.
“You want to shoot with just your fingertips on the string. Extend the bow arm out in front of you, and draw back with your right hand. Bring the string all the way back to the corner of your mouth, and release. Your fingers should roll quickly out of the way of the bowstring to keep it from influencing the flight of the arrow. And then you release.”
She said softly to him, “You don’t teach everyone to shoot this way.”
“Nay, only a very special student.”
“I don’t think I can hit anything with you being so close.”
Guthrie chuckled.
“I’m serious.
“Aye.” But he stayed beside her. “I haven’t been close to you all day, and you have no idea how hard that’s been.”
She laughed. “You’ve been busy.”
“Watching out for you, aye.” Then he continued the lesson. “Some like to release their breath and then shoot. Some close one eye. Others prefer to keep both eyes open. It might take a few tries to adjust for the wind and learn to sight the target properly. Okay, let’s get ready to do this.” He helped her pull the string back, his fingers on the tips of hers.
“Ready. Release.”
She let go of the string and watched as the wind carried her arrow to the right of the target. The lad had at least hit the edge on two of his tries.
“Good,” Guthrie said, as if he really meant it.
“Guthrie, I missed the target completely.”
“Aye, but you have never done this before, right?”
“Nay, never.”
“Aye, so it takes practice. When you shoot the next arrow, you’ll be able to adjust your aim and better compensate for the wind.”
She let out her breath. “Aye.” She’d love to do this when Guthrie wasn’t watching her. That was a first, since she normally wouldn’t have cared. Yet with him, she didn’t want to look like a failure. Not that she was easily discouraged.
She tried again, only without his help. She wasn’t sure what she did, but the next thing she knew, the arrow fell at her feet. Overheated with embarrassment, she picked up her arrow and tried again. This time, she way overcompensated and came closer to hitting the target to the left of hers.
Cearnach and his archery student glanced at her and grinned. “I liked your target better,” she said to them, though her arrow was a foot away from hitting their target.
“Next one will be a perfect shot,” Guthrie told her.
To her chagrin, Cearnach and his charge both waited to see how far off she was this time. She released her arrow and it nicked the top of her target. Cearnach and the boy clapped.
She felt her skin warm considerably with mortification.
Guthrie smiled. “You did it!”
“It didn’t even stick to the target.”
He laughed. “Aye, but if you aimed a wee bit lower, it would have hit the bull’s-eye.”
That made her think of him hitting the bull’s-eye with her—making her come apart under his exquisite touch.
“I’ll give you private lessons later,” he whispered in her ear, his lips brushing a kiss there.
She didn’t believe he was talking about archery. “Who removed my gown last night?”
“Ah, lass, everyone had gone to bed already, and I didn’t think you wanted wrinkles in your gown.”
“So you did.”
“Aye. I would have given you a foot rub, if you had awakened.”
“Hmm,” she said. “Next time we go dancing, I’ll take you up on it.”
“You’ve got it.”
He glanced behind them as footfalls approached. “Seems I’ve got a lineup of lassies wanting lessons.”
Four ladies about her age were smiling brightly at him. “Ah, so I see. Thanks for the lesson. Have fun.” Calla smiled sweetly at him, trying not to show her jealousy. When did she begin to feel so possessive of him?
She handed him the bow and stalked off to a food booth. She had not even made it halfway there when Guthrie caught up with her. She glanced back to see that Oran had taken his place at the archery range. “Too many lasses to handle?”
“I was only interested in teaching you how to ply a bow and arrow,” Guthrie said. “Only…you.”
***
After all the guests had left and the MacNeills had finished the meal that night, several of the pack members gathered around the den in front of a fire.
“I would like to propose a toast,” Julia said, “to thank Calla for her brilliant idea and for helping change Ian’s mind about opening the castle and estates to outsiders.”
“I thought it all turned out really well, but everyone in the pack has to take credit. Everyone did a marvelous job and I think we all had fun,” Calla said.
Julia took a seat next to her. “Guthrie is upstairs in his office, figuring out how much money was made. Ian’s with him. He has asked if you and Guthrie could be in charge of this again next year.”
Before Calla could respond, Heather added, “I’ve never had so much fun in my life.”
Aunt Agnes agreed. “With more time to plan next year, we could have the children put on a puppet play, and we would have time to make more crafts.”
“I’d love to offer cards made with dried flowers, if I’d had more time,” Shelley said.
“Cook told us she’d prepare more food.” Elaine motioned in the direction of the kitchen. “She and her assistants are in the kitchen now making food for tomorrow. She said their cakes and scones sold out quickly.”
The rest of the conversation centered on the day’s activities—what worked and what could be improved—and Calla hadn’t heard of any trouble all day long. Best of all, Baird and his wolf pack had stayed away.
Ian joined them in the den with Guthrie. “After all sales less expenses were calculated, we made more than twenty-five thousand pounds to be put toward a college fund for the older teens,” Ian announced, sounding as proud as he could be.
Everyone clapped and cheered.
“Both our own people and numerous guests asked me throughout the day if we could do this as an annual Christmas event,” Ian continued. “As you know, I’m not happy with having humans invading the castle at any time, particularly when we have wolves who are more newly turned and some children who are not good at keeping their shifting urges in abeyance around humans.”
Everyone looked expectantly at him.
“But, as successful as it was, and as much as everyone wanted to do this again next year, we will.”
Everyone agreed.
Ian looked directly at Calla and said, “If you agree to help organize it. Guthrie said he couldn’t do it without you.”
“Of course,” she said, smiling. It would cut into the time she spent working on her own engagements, but as successful as this one was, everyone would do something similar next year, and she wouldn’t need to spend quite so much time on it. And maybe she could pass out business cards to potential clients who would like her to help set up such events for them.
“All right, if that’s it, we will have a busy day tomorrow,” Ian said, taking Julia’s hand and saying their good nights.
Most said their good nights after that and headed off to bed. Heather yawned, stretched, and smiled at Calla. “I’m so glad you’re staying with us. Never in a million years would Ian have agreed to anything like this if you hadn’t suggested it. We’ll have more time to advertise next year, and it’ll be even better.”
“I thought it was truly wonderful,” Calla said. “I’m certain news of the fair will spread by word of mouth. When people start sharing pictures on all the networking sites, that will help to
get the word out too.”
“Aye, I agree.” Heather glanced at Guthrie. “Well, good night. Have to get my beauty rest to give tours again tomorrow. At least Flynn’s ghostly spirit didn’t bother anyone. Maybe he realizes how important this is to the clan.”
Heather took her leave.
Now just Guthrie and Calla were sitting in front of the glowing fire. Calla was tired, but she felt relaxed and happy to be here and didn’t want to retire to bed just yet. In silence, she watched the flames flickering. She assumed Guthrie was as well. Until she cast a glance in his direction and saw him watching her.
She suddenly felt as though she was sitting way too close to the fire.
He moved to the love seat and sat beside her, heating her all the more. Because of the small size of the love seat, his hip and thigh were pressed against hers, but he didn’t make any move to act more intimately.
“I have you to thank for making it all happen,” he said.
“It was your class that gave me the idea.”
“The one that you taught?” he asked, sounding thoroughly amused.
“Aye, but it gave me the notion.”
“I think you should teach more of my classes if that gives you such great ideas.”
“Then you would be out of a job.”
“I think we need to teach them together,” he said, a brow raised.
She thought he was talking about a mating. She wasn’t ready to go there.
She laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her. “We can’t keep doing this, you know,” he said very seriously.
“What’s that?”
“Keeping everybody in suspense. Everyone is waiting for the big day.”
She raised her head and looked at him, wondering if he meant the Christmas celebration.
“Us. A mating. I think they’re dying with anticipation as much as I am.”
She laughed.
Chapter 15
The next day, Ian pulled more men away from other duties to watch for McKinleys. If Baird was going to try to see Calla, this was the last day the castle and its properties would be open to outsiders. It was easy to lose track of people when so many of the pack members were busy, and the crowds were even thicker today. Calla suspected it had to do with everyone showing off the fun they’d had at the castle the day before on blogs and other networking sites.
She noticed that Guthrie was more watchful of the visitors today, and more watchful of her. A time or two, a man had caught his eye, and Guthrie had lost sight of her as she helped some kids with crafts.
After hours of working, she finally had to go to the bathroom. No way was she using one of the port-o-potties meant for the public outside the castle walls, so Aunt Agnes—who insisted everyone call her that, not just her nephews—told her to go inside. Calla figured she didn’t need to tell Guthrie personally. She needed a little privacy, after all.
Guthrie saw Calla headed to the keep and watched her progress as he joined his aunt.
“She went to use the bathroom, Guthrie,” his aunt said before he could question her. “Och, for heaven’s sake, leave the poor lass alone for a few minutes.”
Guthrie saw Logan, phone to his ear, speaking quickly and running toward him. The boy should have been with the dogs, but he was ashen and frowning.
“Had to go to the bathroom. Saw Baird come in through the servants’ gate. I didn’t have a weapon to stop him. I tried to get hold of Ian, but then I saw you,” Logan hurried to say.
“Where’d he go? Baird? Where’d Baird go?” Guthrie was already running toward the keep, his heart racing.
“Inside the keep.”
“Damn him.”
“Aye.” Logan glanced back as they heard someone running to catch up to them. “Your brothers and Oran are coming.”
Guthrie would kill Baird if he harmed Calla in any way.
***
Calla had just washed up in her bathroom when she heard the lock to her bedroom door snick closed. She frowned. Guthrie couldn’t have come to see her. Not with all the activities going on. Not right now.
She opened the bathroom door and saw Baird standing by her bed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her heart drumming against her ribs. How in the world had he gotten in? Her skin felt chilled. She hoped now that Guthrie would come to check on her.
“My life isn’t worth living if you don’t come back to me, Calla,” Baird said, truly sounding like he was pleading.
She couldn’t believe it. He was either the greatest play actor there was, or on some level, he truly believed what he’d said. Neither made any sense.
“You need to leave right this very minute.” She hoped she could talk him out of this madness. “If Ian and his people find you here…”
“You don’t understand. I can’t leave until you agree to be my mate. Stay here if you like and plan the MacNeills’ Christmas party…but please come back to me. Just say you’ll be mine.”
Please? She’d never seen him behave in such a way. Groveling. If his pack members saw their leader begging before her, she figured they’d kick him out of the pack.
“Baird, you have to leave. I don’t know what your game is, but Ian and his men—”
She heard the men running toward the door. Her heart was already pounding hard. Baird didn’t even look away from her. He had to be crazy!
Guthrie shouted at the door, yanking and banging on it, sounding as though he was ready to break it down, but the door was solid oak. They would need a battering ram.
“Open the door, Baird. We’ll allow you safe passage if you leave in peace,” Ian said, his voice commanding.
“Calla, are you all right?” Guthrie shouted.
“Aye, Guthrie. I am.” She begged Baird, “Please, do as Ian asks. They’ll honor their words.” Baird ignored them completely, a wild look in his eyes that scared her. She was afraid he planned to hurt her if he didn’t get his way. She didn’t see that he was armed. He’d probably figured that if the MacNeill men caught him with weapons, it would go worse for him. But he could still hurt her with his bare hands.
She assumed that talking him down wasn’t going to work. The problem with wolves was that they watched a person’s slightest body movements—eyes, muscles twitching, changes in stance, mouth—and could assess what someone was about to do. So as soon as she tried to slip into the bathroom and slam the door closed, he was there in a heartbeat, his hand shoved against the door, his foot in place before she’d managed to get the door closed. He hit the door so hard that she jumped back to avoid it striking her.
Immediately, she began tugging off her sweater and kicking off her boots. But she only managed to get that far before he crossed the floor and grabbed for her. “Nay, damn it, Calla. I don’t want to hurt you. But I will if you attempt to shift.”
She was still wearing her long skirt and bra. The skirt would hamper her wolf’s hind legs, but nothing would obstruct her bite. She figured that if she shifted, he’d have no other choice but to back off and give up.
Unless he shifted too.
At least that was the plan, right before he slammed his fist into her temple.
***
Oran had run to get the master key to Calla’s bedchamber while Guthrie and his brothers listened, trying to figure out a plan.
Ian tried to call Baird on his cell phone. Baird ignored the ringing, but now they knew he had the phone on him.
Calla and Baird weren’t talking or fighting any longer, and that had Guthrie worried.
“He wants her,” Ian said, trying to reassure him. “He’s not going to jeopardize that by hurting her.”
“I don’t believe it,” Guthrie said. “Baird had to be desperate to come here like this and get stuck in such a dangerous predicament. There’s no telling what he meant to do.”
Oran raced down the hallway with a set of keys jangling. Ian tried the master key on the door and unlocked it, but the door was bolted. There was no budging it.
&nbs
p; “Get a couple of axes,” Guthrie said to Oran, who ran off to get them. “Baird, open the damned door!” Guthrie turned to Ian. “It’s too quiet in there. What if he forced her out the window?”
“Bloody hell,” Ian said, and called someone on his cell as he motioned for Duncan and Cearnach to go around the back side of the keep where her window looked out over the gardens. “Jasper, get some men to Calla’s guest-room window pronto. Baird might be escaping from her room that way.”
Guthrie prayed that Baird wasn’t taking Calla with him that way. Fear consumed him. Everything was too quiet.
Then they heard movement in the bedroom.
“Calla!” Guthrie shouted, his skin sweating with worry.
“I’m coming,” she said, sounding weak, as if she was in pain.
Guthrie growled, wanting to kill Baird in the worst way.
Ian called Cearnach. “Calla’s coming to the door. Baird must have left.” Then he made another call. “Oran, forget the axes. Calla’s opening the door.”
The bolt slid open and Guthrie pushed the door slowly, not wanting to hit Calla with it and worried that Baird had injured her.
She was sitting on the bed, holding the side of her head and dressed only in a bra and her skirt. He helped her to lie down and covered her with a blanket, while Ian stalked to the open window and shouted down to someone below, “Baird’s not up here.”
Cearnach shouted, “Not here, either.”
“Gather men together to check all the grounds,” Ian said.
***
Logan kept cursing himself for his mistake. It wasn’t his job to guard the back gate, and he didn’t know whose job it was, but if he’d been wearing a sword, he would have stopped Baird from going after Calla. He didn’t know what else he could do once he saw Cearnach and Duncan headed for her back window and Oran returning to the keep with two axes. Logan was supposed to go back to the dogs, but he couldn’t until he knew Calla was all right.