She and Lachlan returned to the keep, but as soon as they did, Grant headed straight for her. He didn’t look happy. Now what?
“She wanted to see the dogs in the kennel,” Lachlan said, as if defending her for talking to the boy.
“Can we speak in private?” Grant asked her, more of a command than a question.
She folded her arms. “No. Say what you have on your mind.”
Grant looked at Lachlan, who grinned and said good night to Colleen, then quickly left the foyer. So Grant got his way anyway.
“I told you I’d speak with the lad,” Grant said.
“Yes, you did. I wished to speak with him, too.”
“He didn’t let the dog out of the kennel,” Grant said gruffly, his stern gaze challenging her to disagree with him.
“Maybe not.” But she’d still investigate further on her own to determine the truth of the matter. Just because she was curious.
“He lost his mother a year ago. The dogs have helped him to come to grips with his loss.”
Stunned, Colleen didn’t say anything.
“He’s made mistakes handling the dogs in the past. Nothing that would have harmed them, but they were just a little beyond his control. He begged me to let him continue to be their keeper, though I have a man who actually is the one who serves that purpose. But we’re letting the lad be in charge as much as possible to aid him in his grief.”
Colleen nodded. “I offered to help him with training the dogs.” She felt terrible about the boy, but she wasn’t upset with him. She only wanted to know how the dog could have gotten out. “I fully intend to work with him tomorrow after we go over the finances.” Then she walked off without waiting for Grant to say a word.
And she thought she’d come out on top this time. Why was it that everything seemed to be a battle between the two of them?
Footsteps approached from behind and she looked over her shoulder to see Grant following her, his gaze steady on hers. “Did you need to talk to me about something further?” she asked.
His lips parted—his so-kissable manly lips—as if he wanted to say something more to her, but then he just stared at her as if he wasn’t sure what to say or do.
“About the…” He paused.
The brawny, sword-wielding, defiant Highlander was tongue-tied? Because of her?
“Yes?”
“About the kiss…”
She waited, though the silence between them was killing her. Was he going to tell her it was a mistake? “Yes?”
He shook his head. “Have a good night.”
But he didn’t turn and walk away. He was still staring at her, and she did what she should never have done. For a second time, she drew close, took hold of his shoulders, and gave him a kiss, only this time on the…cheek.
His mouth curved up wickedly, his eyes showing the same heated expression, right before he slipped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his body—his already aroused body—and kissed her. Hot, hard, in charge, possessive, filled with want and need and so much more. Then he broke free before she was ready to let go of him or the sensation of his sexy, masculine lips against her mouth. He bowed his head, then turned and left her standing there. Bewildered. A little shaken. A lot hot.
She just stared after his retreating backside and wondered if that was a sign that she’d lost the battle to keep her distance, or he had. What exactly had just happened between them? Again.
Thoroughly rattled, she couldn’t go to bed now without thinking of him—his lips pressed against hers, or his arousal pressing against her belly. Still wondering why Grant had kissed her, she retired to her chamber.
Just like when she’d left her rural home to stay in a city and had to get used to the city noises—sirens, car traffic, dogs barking—she knew she’d eventually get used to the noise in the pipes as they gurgled and groaned and creaked. At least tonight she knew she wouldn’t have a furry, long-legged bed companion. No one would pull that stunt again. Not with Grant and his brothers aware of it.
So what would be next? That led her to half wishing the wolf of a Highlander would join her in bed this time. She knew she wouldn’t want to coax him out of her bed.
She groaned at the thought. She was supposed to be the owner and, as such, not making any attempts to seduce her manager. Wouldn’t that be considered sexual harassment on the job?
***
Grant was grabbing a whisky in the study when his brothers walked in and joined him. “I thought you were going to bed, Lachlan,” Grant said.
“Enrick caught me and asked if I wanted to have a drink before I retired for the night. I assumed he meant we were having a talk with you.”
Grant nodded.
“So,” Enrick said, “has anyone been assigned to watch the lass’s room tonight?”
“For what purpose?” Grant asked, then finished off his whisky.
Enrick poured himself and Lachlan some. “To ensure the lass’s sleep isn’t bothered.”
“There should be no need for that.” Grant poured himself another drink. “Once we were made aware that the dog had not been locked up as he should have been, we knew someone had to have led him to her room. The word should have spread to let everyone know the lass is staying and no one should give her any trouble.”
“I’m surprised the lass didn’t shriek in distress when Hercules jumped in bed with her,” Enrick said. “Lachlan said she had left the chamber door ajar.”
“It doesn’t matter what the circumstances were,” Grant said, not about to mention that she had come to see him in the White Room, and that must have been when the dog was let into her room, “as long as no one does anything else to attempt to unsettle the lass.”
The brothers smiled.
Enrick said, “So you truly have had a change of heart concerning her.”
“She may not be as much like her father as we first worried. But time will tell,” Grant said.
“How was your sleep last night?” Enrick asked.
Grant gave him a look to not go there. “Are the men nearly finished with painting the rooms next to mine?”
“The one, aye,” Lachlan said. “The other should be finished tomorrow. Paint fumes will linger a bit longer.”
“Tell them I want a rush on it.”
“You’re moving in there?” Enrick asked.