Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

“ M y apologizes for making you wait, Ms. Stanton.”

His very understandable Scottish brogue and smooth deep voice felt like it mesmerized not to mention his stunning looks. He had the most amazing, bold, green-colored eyes, and his black hair brushed the tops of his shoulders in an unruly fashion that seemed to fit him. Though he was sitting, it was easy to see he was a man of substantial height and in excellent physical shape. He was thirty-five, having learned that from her research, four years older than her. And damn if she didn’t find him appealing, not something that should be the first thing on her mind when meeting a potential boss.

The only thing she could think of saying was, “You’re not Harry?”

He smiled and she felt a rush of pleasure race through her, which annoyed her since she had only ever had a mild attraction to most men she had met or dated, which were few. She never met a man who excited her with nothing more than a smile.

He grinned. “Nay. I’m Tiernan, Laird of Clan MacMadadh. Harry had a wee bit of a mishap and by the time we saw to it, I realized we were late in picking you up.”

“I do hope Harry is all right.”

“Nothing to worry about. He’s fine, and again my apologizes for making you wait in the cold.”

“I survived,” Olivia said, and realized the opportunity of having Laird Tiernan all to herself. This was a good time to learn if there were any job openings at the preserve.

“You’re rubbing your hands. They must be cold,” he said.

“I shouldn’t have packed my gloves in my suitcase,” she said and was shocked when he reached out and took hold of her hands and began to rub them between his warm ones.

A gasp slipped from her lips, his touch feeling as if it jolted every one of her senses, just as it did when she earned the trust of a wolf on the preserves she worked at, and he brushed himself against her hand, giving her permission to touch him.

“My apologies, sudden heat on cold can shock the senses and your hands are exceptionally cold,” he said, giving them a good rub.

She almost sighed with regret when he released her hands, hurrying his hands into his pockets and extracting a pair of knit gloves, then he began to slip the oversized gloves on her hands.

“I’m afraid they have a few wolf hairs stuck to them, but I doubt that you mind. You have quite an impressive background with wolves, Ms. Stanton.”

“Olivia or Liv,” she offered, her heart unexpectedly thumping a bit faster. “And so, I don’t embarrass myself, is it Laird Tiernan or simply Laird?”

“Tiernan will do, and Olivia fits you better than Liv,” he said and gave her now gloved-covered hands a squeeze. “Now let’s get you in front of the warmth of a good fire.”

He pulled out of the train station parking lot, but she was too caught up in the way her name had slipped like an intimate caress from his lips to notice. How was that even possible? It wasn’t. It was nothing more than her foolish imagination. And what was that rugged scent he was wearing? She had never smelled anything so alluring on a man. It made her want to get closer to him and give him a good sniff. Whatever was wrong with her? She had never, not ever, found a man appealing so quickly. It was like getting struck by a lightning bolt, a sensual lightning bolt. She almost groaned aloud at the ridiculous thought. Had she lost her mind? Such crazy thoughts would not help get her a position here.

“Your work history tells me that you favor wolves, Olivia.”

Wolves . Yes, she needed to concentrate on wolves.

“I have been obsessed with them since I was young. I find them fascinating, and I am so looking forward to browsing your preserve and learning all I can about it, but most of all meeting your wolves.”

“I doubt very much that any of the wolves will share their sexual appetites with you,” he said, his smile playful.

Olivia smiled, while trying to ignore another rush of pleasure that hit her stronger this time. Maybe it was him referring to sexual appetites that caused this one, and a sudden thought of what he might be like in bed had her turning her head for a moment, feeling her cheeks heat.

“ Pull it together, Olivia ,” she silently berated herself and reminded herself that she had a job to do for Vera and she did not intend to let her down, especially since it had provided her with this opportunity.

She turned with a smile to face him, hoping her cheeks weren’t scorching. “It isn’t the wolves’ sexual appetites that I am here to find out about. It’s the werewolves’ sexual appetites that I am interested in.”

Was that a seductive grin he turned on her, or was her dormant libido rising to protest and yelling, Grab him while you can?

“I will have to make sure you speak with one of the werewolves.”

Olivia chuckled at his teasing remark, but Tiernan didn’t. He actually looked quite serious, and she found herself saying, “So, tell me about your werewolves.”

“I don’t get the feeling you believe in werewolves… Olivia.”

How did he make her name drip with seduction? Or again was it her imagination?

A warning rang in her head . Stay professional, Olivia. You want a position here . Though with the overwhelming attraction she felt for Laird Tiernan, she wondered if that was a good idea.

“I believe the tale of werewolves was born out of fear,” she said. “Killings that were so brutal that people felt only animals could be responsible for such vicious deaths.”

“You prescribe to the serial killer theory.”

“It was inevitable with the many tours I have taken people on at the preserves where I have worked that someone would jokingly ask about werewolves. I decided to educate myself and them about lycanthropes. The serial killer theory seemed the most plausible to explain the werewolf myth.”

“And what was it you found out?”

Olivia slipped into tour guide mode. “The werewolf myth is one of the oldest legends to be recorded in the history of human monsters. They were hunted just as witches were since many witches were also believed to be shape-shifting werewolves. Werewolf trials were held just like witch trials, and werewolves suffered the same fate as witches. Historical records show that a serial killer team in France in 1521, Pierre Burgot and Michel Verdun, were executed as werewolves. Then in 1573, again in France, a Gilles Garnier, known as the Werewolf of Dole, and a confessed serial killer, was executed as a werewolf. But the oldest story of werewolves isn’t the recording of a dreadful group of serial killings but rather an Ancient Roman myth. Ovid, a Roman poet, wrote the Metamorphoses in 1 A.D. It was the story of King Lycaon, the name which many believe is the origin for the word Lycanthrope. King Lycaon offended, purposely or foolishly, most likely both, the gods by serving them none other than human meat at dinner. Jupiter, outraged, punished him by transforming Lycaon into a werewolf. Naturally, since then the werewolf myth has evolved. Full moons had nothing to do with Ovid’s tales but do with others and some tales say that werewolves change shape whenever they please. Then there is the multitude of beliefs in how a werewolf can be killed, not to mention the belief that werewolves live extremely long lives.

“So why has the werewolf myth remained so popular with endless books being written about them and endless movies made as well? There could be several reasons for the werewolf myth. But fear and superstition top the list. Most likely, genuine wolf attacks were not the cause for gruesome deaths, but fear and superstition had people believe the impossible. Torture produced the desired confession, which led to so-called proof, cementing the belief in werewolves.”

“I am impressed, Olvia, with your knowledge of werewolves. It is no wonder Ms. Langford chose you to write the section on the sexual appetites of werewolves.”

“There is also the werewolf myth concerning Clan MacMadadh, MacMadadh meaning son of the wolf,” Olivia said, not being able to ignore it, though she thought it nothing more than a myth, but one she had to follow if she were to give proper credence to what she was to write for Vera. “An ancestor of yours, the laird at the time, killed a village woman and blamed it on a wolf?”

“He wasn’t an ancestor,” Tiernan corrected. “He was the Laird of Clan MacMadadh at the time, and after his death one of my ancestors became laird and his bloodline continues to remain in every laird of the clan throughout the years. And it became known that the laird who had actually killed the woman had killed other women as well.”

“Proving the serial killer theory, which was not recognized until later when doctors and men of science began to question deaths more vigorously and eventually scientifically,” she clarified. “Though looking back on some old, documented murder cases of thirst for blood and flesh, it is logical to assume why they had been attributed to wolf attacks.”

“Except for one important fact that never was considered,” he argued.

Olivia smiled, knowing what he was about to say. “Wolves have no interest in humans and there isn’t a credible documented case in history of a wolf attacking and killing a human for no reason. And the scant cases that do exist show that the wolves were provoked or that they had foolishly been given the taste of human food and it drew the wolves to places they would have never gone. Wolves fear humans as much as humans fear wolves.”

“Almost right. Wolves don’t fear humans. They just prefer to have nothing to do with them. Their only concern is for the survival of their pack.”

“I am looking forward to meeting your pack of wolves and your staff,” she said, intentionally changing the course of their conversation to see if she could learn of any opportunity of a job at the preserve, while trying to ignore her continuing attraction to him.

“My part-time staff have already left for the winter, and I keep a minimal staff who live on the property year-round and have been with me for several years. Knowing the area, the wolves’ habitat, is essential to caring properly for them.”

She had thought of that and surmised it might prove a barrier for getting a position there. She was counting on her years of experience, extensive knowledge, and most of all her love of wolves to break that barrier. It wasn’t going to be easy, but she was determined from when she had first heard of this preserve to eventually work here one day. She never had the nerve to apply for a job here, many of her colleagues, with more experience than her, having tried and been turned down. But being here was different. Being here she could show him what an asset she would be to the preserve, at least she was hopeful she could, but she had to ignore this overwhelming appeal she felt for him.

In heat. You’re in heat . A gasp would have shot from her mouth at such a crazy thought if she didn’t lock her lips tight. Colder temperatures affected female wolves’ ovaries triggering a rise in estrogen. But she was not a wolf.

“I would be only too glad to have you explore the preserve, but I need not tell you that you may never do so alone. I or one of my staff will accompany you. I believe your assignment would fare better in my extensive library. There you will find endless books on werewolves, some quite ridiculous and others quite entertaining, but far from truthful. And we can talk about the history of werewolves in Scotland if you’d like, including my ancestor.”

“That would be helpful,” she said, thinking of the challenge it was going to present if she continued to have sexual thoughts about him.

This was not like her at all. Her work came before anything. Wolves came before anything. They were her life. She had no idea the reason why and she never questioned it. She was happier when she worked with wolves than with humans. She could not let this strange attraction she felt for Tiernan get in the way of what brought her the most joy and love… wolves.

“The snow starts,” Tiernan said with a nod at the window. “A light snow is predicted but one can never be sure in the Highlands. Predictions often go astray.”

Olivia looked out the front window, snowflakes dotting the windshield. She was amazed that by the time they reached the castle, light snow had dusted the ground. However, it did paint a beautiful picture as they drove through the main gate and along a tree-lined road to the castle, and she felt once again as she did when first seeing the train station… as if she had just stepped back in time.

She had read about the history of the castle and how three additions had been added to the original section over time. But one would never suspect that seeing it now. All sections flowed beautifully into one another as if they had always been there. It was decked out for Christmas. Lit wreaths and Christmas swags adorned the multitude of windows as well as the balustrades along the two staircases that lead up from either side to the two front doors that were dressed in beautifully decorated pine wreaths while pine trees in white, square containers sparkled with white lights in a lovely pattern in front of the castle and circular driveway. Clan MacMadadh was one of the clans that managed to not only keep their wealth but increase it considerably. The family was wise when it came to investments and depended on no one when it came to maintaining the castle and the extensive property that went with it. With the size of it, it would take her more than a week to explore the place.

Olivia turned her head to catch sight of as much of the impressive and festive castle as she could as Tiernan drove past the front to turn at the far end and drove around to the back where a six-car attached garage sat. One of the garage doors was just completing its ascent in time for Tiernan to pull into it.

“A good cuppa would probably serve you well right now and perhaps a rest before supper this evening. My housekeeper, Fay, will get you settled,” Tiernan said and got out of the vehicle and walked around it to open her door, then snatched her suitcase and tote from the backseat, and as she heard the garage door closing, he led her into the castle.

As they passed through a mud room, Tiernan said, “The wellies are kept here. I’m sure you will find a pair that fits. Though for snow, you will need a warmer pair of boots, which I’m sure we can find you if you didn’t bring any winter boots with you.”

“I read up on Scottish weather and prepared as much as I could for the unpredictable.”

“You are a wise woman, Olivia,” Tiernan said, sending her a smile before he turned to lead them further into the castle.

Olivia silently scolded herself for letting his smile tempt her libido. She may find him appealing, but it had to end there. She wasn’t here to frolic with the laird. Her desire was to work for him, not to have sex with him. Wasn’t it? She shook her head that she should even question it.

So, he’s hot. Get over it, Olivia. Don’t be an idiot and lose the chance of working at the place you’ve been dreaming about because you find the man who would be your boss, hot.

They entered a somewhat updated kitchen mixed with elements of a bygone era; a long, narrow table with four chairs on either side where one would expect to see an island, polished, dark wood cabinets, copper pots and pans hanging everywhere, herbs in pots that sat on glass shelves across the window over a large copper sink, a modern, eight burner gas stove and a commercial-sized refrigerator that all blended well together.

“This is Fay, Olivia,” Tiernan said, catching her attention. “She will show you to your room and bring you a cup of tea and some of her delicious scones to enjoy.”

“Your sweet-talking tongue will not be gaining you any favors, my lord,” Fay said with a playful nudge at Tiernan’s arm.

Olivia could tell that the two were more friends than laird and servant by the way they teased each other with smiles, and damn if it didn’t make Tiernan even more appealing.

“If you don’t mind, could I possibly have tea in the library. I’d like to get started right away on my research and see what books you have that may help me with it.”

“Not at all,” Tiernan said. “You are welcome to peruse the library and enjoy your tea there. I will see you at supper.” With a nod to her, he left.

“Come with me and I’ll show you to your room and give you time to freshen up if you’d like, then I’ll return and show you to the library,” Fay said and reached for Olivia’s suitcase and tote.

“I’ll take them,” Olivia said, but Fay had already snatched the two up.

“I’ll not be doing your job and you’ll not be doing mine,” Fay said with a friendly smile.

Olivia smiled as well and followed her out of the kitchen. Fay was of average height, plus-sized with a pleasant energy about her, a pretty face and blazing red hair she wore piled on top of her head. She looked to be in her forties, though it was difficult to tell, she had such beautiful skin and few wrinkles.

Olivia was of average height herself but that was where any similarity ended. She was slim with an athletic body born from her love of running that she had done since she was young. She was a brunette with natural red highlights sprinkled throughout her long hair that she often drew back into a ponytail so it wouldn’t get in her way. Men often commented on how pretty she was, though she’d never been called beautiful, but she always believed that compliment was meant for a rare few. She had a fine-lined scar on her right cheek, gotten during play with the malamute puppy she received one Christmas when she was young. Samson had soon stolen her heart, and she mourned his loss to this day.

“We have broadband service here, but it’s spotty at times, especially in the winter,” Fay said, drawing Olivia out of her musings as the woman wound her way easily through the castle.

Olivia felt she should have been paying closer attention, realizing the place was a maze and wondering if she would ever find her way through it.

Two floors up and Fay finally came to a stop halfway down a long corridor in front of a door. She entered and deposited Oliva’s suitcase on a luggage rack, along with her tote, and pointed to a partially open door. “You have your own bathroom, and I will have my hubby, Henry, set a fire in the fireplace so it will be toasty warm in here for you tonight since a chill often runs through the castle in the winter. I will leave you for a bit. Take your time and settle in and I will return for you.”

“Not necessary,” Olivia said, giving the lovely room a quick glance and looking forward to taking her time to explore it later. She rushed out of her jacket and grabbed her tote, slipping the softly worn leather strap over her shoulder. “I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to rest a bit, maybe catch a nap.”

“I don’t nap, and I am eager to start my work and have that cup of tea. I am a tea lover.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Fay said as she led Olivia to the library, she tried to offer directions so she wouldn’t get lost. Fay laughed when Olivia shook her head looking completely confused. Fay chuckled when they entered the library. “You’ll get the hang of it by the end of the week. I will be back right quick with your pot of tea and scones.”

Olivia smiled realizing the woman was teasing her, knowing she was only here for a week, though it probably would take her that long to find her way somewhat around the castle. She slipped her work tote off her shoulder and placed it on a forest green couch that faced a fireplace, logs burning strongly in it. Glass-paned doors enclosed floor-to-ceiling bookcases that flanked the fireplace and contained a variety of items and books. Most of the books occupied the floor-to-ceiling bookcases on the other walls as well as the few waist-height bookcases placed strategically around the room along with comfortable chairs and end tables where needed. Lamps were plentiful, providing sufficient light for reading. Two high, narrow windows divided bookcases on one wall with heavy deep green, damask drapes that sat open.

Olivia went to the window to check on the snow. It was still a light snowfall, though more than a mere dusting now covered the ground. She had to keep in mind what the train engineer had told her, how snow could trap her there for the winter. She couldn’t afford that. She had a job and responsibilities she needed to return to. Unless she got a position here, but still, she would not be able to start right away. She would have to give notice, and then there would be moving to see to.

“Slow down,” she whispered to herself. She was assuming too much. The chance of getting a position here was slim, and Tiernan hadn’t even mentioned that one was available.

She turned away from the window and perused the bookshelves, seeing that sections were marked by topic.

Fay returned with the promised tea, a whole pot, and scones, and left her to enjoy and explore. She sipped her tea and ate a scone, thinking Tiernan’s praise of Fay’s scones was more than accurate. It was delicious. She made sure her fingers were free of any crumbs before returning to search for the section on werewolves and was excited to find it held a plethora of books on the subject. Not wanting to be greedy, she chose only three books to look through to start.

She placed the books on the table in front of the couch, refilled her nearly empty teacup, and then got comfortable on the couch with one of the three books. It was a fascinating collection of werewolf tales. After reading a few, she chose another book… The Allure of Werewolves .

Werewolves in human form hold a strong allure to human females. They have a commanding and protective presence about them, and they release a rugged scent to draw a compatible woman to them for a playful mating. Most human females will be instantly attracted to a werewolf’s scent. It will spark her passion and interest, and if he chooses to mark her with his touch, then it will ignite her desire for him, leaving her with an urge to have a sexual encounter with him. Sexual encounters with human females are meaningless to werewolves. It is pure sex, pure pleasure, they look for, nothing else. They are highly skilled lovers having a blended sexual knowledge of human and beast. Unfortunately, once a woman has sex with a werewolf, they find sex with human males disappointing. Something human females should be aware of and think wisely about before having sex with a werewolf.

Olivia laughed; she couldn’t help it. It was such a ridiculous suggestion, even if werewolves did exist. She had misjudged the topic of the book. She thought it was going to be about why people were fascinated with werewolves. Instead, it concentrated on why women found werewolves alluring. It was an older book published in 1918, and she had to admit the premise was interesting if not absurd. She continued to read.

Beware human females, for a werewolf on the prowl will use a simple smile to catch your attention and if you fall into his web of deceit, it will not be easy to extract yourself. The more time you spend with him, the more he touches you, the more your passion will mount for him until you are unable to refuse him.

Olivia shook her head at such drivel. She was more determined now than ever to write an accurate piece on the sexual appetites of werewolves. She would use all her knowledge of wolves to base her writing on what she believed would be an accurate description of the sex lives of werewolves. Starting with how a male wolf courted a female wolf. How the male would approach the female making soft whining sounds and she would respond. They would nuzzle each other’s muzzles, touch their noses, and nudge each other with their bodies. Nibble at each other and walk nearly attached to each other. She always enjoyed watching the courtships. You could see the love they had for each other.

Wolves mating ritual was nothing like the author described of werewolves where a simple smile or touch could have a woman eager to have sex with a man/werewolf.

Olivia let the book fall closed on her lap as the words in the book sunk into her. It nearly described how she felt about Tiernan when she met him. His smile, his scent, his touch had instantly awakened her libido, but there was a good reason for that. She had had no sex life in—she had to think about it. How long had it been? She couldn’t recall her last encounter. Had it been that unmemorable? Or had work held more interest than sex? Or was it that she never found a man that interested her… until Tiernan? Or was he a werewolf who used his wiles on her?

Was she out of her mind for even giving such a ridiculous notion thought?

It was a perfect storm, not believing in werewolves and not recalling the last time she had sex, leaving her attraction to Tiernan’s smile and scent and touch combined with what she just read to strike the absurd thought in her head.

He’s a werewolf.

She laughed at the outrageous idea and blamed it on lack of sleep, having traveled nonstop from plane ride to train ride, to here. A good night’s sleep would clear her mind as would no more reading about werewolves tonight. She placed The Allure of Werewolves book on the table with the other two books and walked to the window.

Having been so engrossed in the books, she hadn’t realized that night had fallen. The holiday lights cast a lovely glow over the ground that was completely covered in snow. The snow was falling heavier than before, and she was reminded of the engineer’s warning about leaving early if the snow worsened or she might be stuck there. She didn’t want to leave. She had just gotten here and had had no time to do any substantial research or speak in length with Tiernan.

She was about to turn away when a sudden movement caught her eye, and she gasped, startled to see a lone black wolf stride into view along the front of the castle. The creature was magnificent, his sleek black fur shimmering under the soft glow of the holiday lights, making him appear almost otherworldly. He was larger than any wolf she had ever seen, his size alone enough to send a ripple of unease through her. Could he have escaped the preserve? The thought lingered uneasily in her mind. Then, as if sensing her very question, the wolf paused, turned, and looked up. Her breath caught in her throat. It felt as if he was staring directly at her through the window, his bold green eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. For a heartbeat, they remained locked in that unsettling gaze. Then, without warning, the wolf lifted his head and released a haunting, piercing howl that echoed through the night before he bolted, disappearing into the shadows.