Chapter 3

Three

"Oh, my God, Milly! Are you okay?!"

Tara jumped out of a hard plastic seat and ran over to me as soon as I entered the front lobby of the remote hospital's A highlighting rippling muscles I'd guessed laid underneath all those button-up shirts but didn't know were there for sure.

He had them though. Oh man, did he have them. So clearly, his wet t-shirt display made me wonder what it would be like to feel them with my bare hands or pressing up against my skin …

"Come on then, Millicent! Stop gawking at me and get out of the bloody car!"

Okay, I hadn't realized how openly I was ogling him until he snapped at me.

My cheeks heated, and I quickly scrambled through the open door, scooting as far beneath the umbrella as I could without touching him. And, oh wow … he smelled good . I mean really, really good.

The scent was much too subtle to be cologne. It was a heady combination of pine trees, moss, and crisp lake air that made me think of castle ruins and bagpipes. A mountain. He smelled like a mountain. To be specific. He smelled like the Highlands. Like Faoltairn.

Why hadn't I ever noticed how good he smelled before?

The sound of sniffing brought my head up. Iain's nose was flared as if he, too, was taking in a scent. But unlike me, he didn't appear to like what he was smelling.

"Was someone …" he sniffed again, his eyebrows pulling down so hard that a crease appeared above his nose. "… holding you?"

I had no idea what he was talking about until I remembered his super-sensitive nose. "Ah … yes. My roommate came to see me at the hospital."

"Your roommate," he repeated, voice flat. "You never mentioned you lived with someone."

"You never asked," I gently pointed out. "Now, might I ask why you're here?"

Iain stiffened. He was clearly not used to being interrogated by me. It was always the other way around with us .

"When I came down from the mountain this morning, I found the thumb drive in my home office," he answered stiffly. "It was covered in blood. I washed it off, drove it into the office myself, and when I saw you weren't there, I came here to check on you. See if you were all right."

He finished his explanation with a huge expulsion of air through his still-flared nostrils.

"Are you?" he asked. "Are you all right, Millicent?"

I tilted my head up at him. Okay, let me get this straight …

Iain, Iain Scotswolf … one of the most self-absorbed individuals I'd ever met, had driven all the way to my flat in Holyrood? Just to check to make sure I was okay?

Why hadn't he just called? Or texted?—

The still-American side of my logic cut me off, answering all my silent questions before I could voice them.

"You didn't have to come here, Iain. I'm fine," I thinned my lips. "And I'm not planning to spend the short amount of time I have left suing you."

Iain's expression remained static, registering neither guilt nor denial. But after a beat, he said, "I'll tell Linda in HR to include a generous bonus in your next paycheck. For your … inconvenience."

It wasn't quite an apology, but it was more than I would have expected from my cold boss even a few hours ago.

"Thanks," I said. Honestly, I'd rather he gave me those two extra weeks he was making me work. But a bonus was nice, too. Especially if it meant I could travel a little longer before figuring out all the hospice end- of-life stuff.

That should have been the end of the conversation. But instead, we both continued to stand there, rain pitter-pattering against the top of his ridiculously large umbrella. And after a few more seconds, I cleared my throat and said, "Iain?"

"Aye, Millicent?" His brogue whispered over my skin. Like an aural caress.

And I had to clear my throat before pressing ahead with, "I know you aren't a fan of hearing other people's opinions. Especially mine. But I really think you should reconsider having a wolf as a pet."

I took a brave breath, and informed him, "They're magnificent creatures, and no matter what you may have seen on shows like Game of Thrones , they're not meant to be cooped up like that. I mean, is that even legal? Anyway, I'm not surprised it bit me. Poor thing is probably going crazy in that cage."

Iain regarded me for a long second, and I braced myself to get chewed out. But to my surprise, his serious gray eyes took on a distinct cast of amusement. "Let's see if I'm clear on this. My wolf bit you badly enough to send you to the hospital, and you're worried about his well-being? Really, Milly Mouse, this is too self-effacing. Even for you."

"Don't call me that!" I snapped before I could stop myself.

Iain stilled. Probably shocked at the harsh reaction he'd elicited from his generally meek assistant.

Another wave of fatigue passed over me. He was probably right to be shocked. Sometimes it felt like that was all I was: a self-effacing little mouse who came into this world with barely a squeak and would go out the same way.

"I'm sorry. It's been a long night." I scrubbed a hand down the side of my face. "I should go inside and get cleaned up for work. And you should probably get back to your camping … and your pet wolf."

"Alright," he answered.

"Alright," I echoed softly, waiting for him to make the first move and go.

But then he said, "I promise never to call you Milly Mouse again. Come on, let me walk you to your door …"

Iain took me by the elbow and escorted me down the short walkway and then up the steps toward the covered entrance outside the front door of my terrace house flat.

"Um … thanks," I said, not quite knowing how else to respond to this unprecedented act of gentlemanly behavior.

Or how to feel about the way my elbow tingled as we walked together up the steps.

Or what to think when he lowered his umbrella but not his hand once we reached the top of the stairs.

"Thanks," I said for the third time, even though I was finding it increasingly difficult to squeeze any words out at all through my suddenly bone-dry throat.

"Millicent …" Iain said, looking down at me. His steely gray gaze became as soft as it had been the first time we'd met during my interview. His hand felt like a pulse against my elbow.

"Yes?" I asked, my heart thundering in my chest.

Iain opened his mouth … but then the softness faded from his eyes, and his face hardened into its usual cold mask. "You can work from home today, but I'll expect you in at four tomorrow morning."

With that, he finally released my arm. Then he jogged down the steps without waiting for my reply .

By the time I spotted him opening the door to his Jaguar, the thundering of my heart had come to a full stop.

And as I watched him drive away without so much as a backward glance in my direction, it occurred to me that his gentlemanly display was probably more about me not suing him than anything else.

I let myself into the flat with Tara's words echoing in my ears. What. A. Dick .

***

If you think he's a bosshole now, wait until Milly goes into heat.

Find out what happens next in

HER SCOTTISH WOLF