“About the men who came to speak with Alasdair, what was that all about?” she asked Hans, wanting to know if Alasdair’s brother would know anything more or would tell her more than Alasdair had done.

  “Their parents had been killed in a Viking raid. You can imagine how they feel about them,” Hans said.

  Isobel took a deep breath. “I understand.” She was just glad Elene had accepted their friendship after what had happened to her and her family.

  Then Hans introduced her to the guard in charge of making assignments and he smiled. “I’m Lorne.” He turned to Hans. “Dinna tell me she is looking to guard the keep. I was hoping she was seeking a husband. Me, in fact.”

  Hans slapped him on the back. “That’s something I’ll leave you to work out between the two of you.” Then he left.

  “Guarding the keep works for me,” she said.

  “Nay on being my wife, eh?”

  She smiled. She knew she didn’t have a chance with Alasdair, but he was the one she wanted. Someone in charge, who cared about his people, her, and her kin too. A pack leader? She would do well at leading a pack also. That’s the role she had always felt she was destined to play.

  Before gloaming, Isobel ate with the rest of her family at a croft for this eve, but in the future, Alasdair had said he wanted them at the keep to eat their meals. For now, they were staying at the croft near a loch with the crofters, a man and his wife, Dawy and Agnes. The crofters had never been able to have bairns of their own and so they were happy to have Isobel and her family under their roof for now.

  “We learned you are a guard for the keep,” the man said.

  “Aye.” Isobel ate some of the brown bread Agnes had made. It was very good, probably even more so because they hadn’t had fresh bread in so long. “The food is great.”

  “It is,” Conall said, and she gave him a look to not eat too much.

  As if Agnes realized what was not being said, she smiled. “He can eat as much as he needs. And then he can hunt for us too.” She switched her attention to Isobel. “You have no guard detail tonight?”

  Isobel glanced at her before she took another bite of the boar. “Nay. I am free. Did you need me to do something for you?” The crofters were generous to house so many of them at once, when Isobel and her kin were Vikings. Elene was staying in the keep with some other women. She would be sewing and doing needlework and other tasks that were required of her.

  Just like Isobel would be helping to hunt for food, growing and gathering crops, and pulling guard duty. Whatever anyone needed her to assist with.

  “I have it on good authority the laird is off to swim in the loch yonder—and no one will be there to guard him,” Agnes said, brushing a dark strand of hair off her cheek, a twinkle in her gray-blue eyes.

  Isobel was never embarrassed. Ever. Yet she felt a rush of heat fill her cheeks at once. “He probably doesna need anyone to guard him.” Or he would already have assigned someone the duty.

  “If anything untoward happened to him, the pack would suffer a great loss,” Agnes continued, fetching more honeyed mead for Isobel.

  Isobel glanced at Dawy to see his take on the situation.

  “Aye, ‘tis so.” The dark-haired man winked at her and she felt the heat in her face renew.

  “I can go,” Conall said, sounding eager to get on the laird’s good side.

  “Nay, I will go.” Isobel pulled on her brat, grabbed her sword and dagger, secured them, and seized another slice of bread. “Do as they tell you, ja?” She asked her kin.

  “Ja,” her nephews and niece said.

  Then Isobel was out the door and striding in a hurry for the loch. She moved through the bracken when she saw Alasdair removing his sword and sgian dubh. Then he removed his belt, his plaid, and his shirt. Buttocks, legs, back, arms, sculpted, naked, were quite impressive. He waded into the water, and he began to swim across the loch. She was hidden in the six-foot tall bracken, watching the muscular Scot swimming, enjoying the view, the sun setting—pinks, orange, and yellow skies painting the water and him. She wondered how often he swam in the loch. It was important not to do something at a regular interval or his enemy could learn of it and be ready for him.

  She was still doing her duty, listening for any sound of danger that would alert her that someone was intending to attack him, and she would stop the assassin.

  All she heard was the sound of insects buzzing and the laird splashing in the water. She thought after he had finished his swim, she would take one. She had no intention of him catching her in her mission to guard him. She was still certain if he had wanted a guard, he would have assigned one.

  She smiled when he finally finished his long swim and headed for shore where he’d left his clothes and weapons. But then he looked in her direction and she figured he must have smelled her scent.

  Next time, if there was a next time, she would have to ensure she was downwind of him. He began to use a cloth to dry himself, his whole glorious body facing her as if he was showing off to her—which couldn’t help but impress her—when he should have been turned around so he could watch for danger in the woods.

  She sighed. The view was too good, and she had to remember to breathe, to listen and watch for signs of difficulty, and not be so caught up in studying the laird, for heaven’s sake.

  When he finished belting his plaid and securing his weapons, he headed for the keep which was southwest of her. So had he smelled her, or not?

  Even if he knew she’d been out here, he probably had just been amused she had been watching him swimming in the loch. Once she no longer saw him, she moved closer to the loch and pulled off her brat, léine, her shoes, and then her chemise. She realized her younger niece and nephew must have bathed earlier when they were given Scottish clothes to wear because they hadn’t smelled of sea salt. Whereas she and Conall had.

  Then she walked into the fresh water, wading deep until she could swim. She dove under, washing the salt off her skin and out of her hair. She felt glorious. The loch was close enough to the croft and the keep that she could do this every night, though she needed Conall to take a bath too.

  She floated on her back and felt at one with the silky water. She stared up at the beautiful, sparkling stars in the night’s sky. She felt as though she could stay like this forever. But then Conall howled from the croft, telling her she needed to retire to bed and get some sleep. She wanted to turn into her wolf and bite him!

  When Alasdair had finished his swim, feeling invigorated, he had been ready to dress and return to the keep. But then he had smelled Isobel’s delightful scent in the direction of the bracken. Unable to help himself, he’d dressed and watched for any sign of her, but she’d been hidden, and he couldn’t see her in the tall plants. He thought of walking through the bracken to locate her, but then he assumed she’d only been there to bathe and when she’d seen him in the loch, she had waited until he left.

  He had headed back to the keep, but then he had detoured to see what she was up to. When he had seen her strip off her clothes and enter the loch, he’d been intrigued—so much so, he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the sight of her.

  Toned muscles, beautiful breasts, long blond hair unbound, and a body that looked to be perfect to share carnal pleasure with and carry a Scotsman’s bairn. His bairn even.

  But when she began floating on her back, observing the stars as if she was a water sprite of the loch, he couldn’t move, his groin tightening, and he had the greatest urge to join her.

  A wolf inside the croft howled. A young male wolf, probably Conall.

  Then she turned as if she’d smelled Alasdair this time—the breeze switching back and forth across the loch, so mayhap she had. She stared at him, looking shocked to see him observing her. He smiled. He thought of leaving, of giving her some privacy, but wolves shifted naked in front of each other so it wasn’t that uncommon to see each other in that way. Though they were new to each other and he was more than intrigued.

  “If you are there to guard me, you need no’ do so any longer. I’m quite clean now and coming out.”

  “If I had known you wanted to bathe, I would have allowed you to go first,” he said, not budging from his spot of claimed territory—right next to her clothes.

  “I was here to guard you.”

  He raised a brow. “Lorne sent you to guard me?” Now that surprised him. Lorne never sent anyone to watch over Alasdair because he didn’t want anyone having to pull the duty. Though sometimes Hans or Rory came with him to provide some extra security and take turns swimming also.

  Isobel swam closer to the shore, but she wasn’t getting out. “Nay, Dawy and Agnes did.”

  He glanced back at the croft. “Did they now?” He swung his attention back to Isobel.

  “Ja. Aye. Then when you left, or pretended to leave, I wanted to wash off the sea salt on my skin and hair. Dinna fault them for it.”

  “Quite the contrary. I’m glad they sent you to me. How are you liking it here so far?”

  She smiled and left the water then when he wouldn’t leave. “We are very happy.” She was like a water goddess—divine to behold, the water dripping from her glorious skin. On the shore, she grabbed up her chemise and pulled it on, the sheer fabric clinging to her wet skin, her nipples extended, her short blond curls between her legs catching his eye.

  Then she pulled her léine on, fastened her brat, and secured her weapons. He walked her back to the croft.

  “You truly are no’ going to scold them for sending me out to guard you?” she asked, sounding so serious, he chuckled.

  “Nay. They are a kindhearted couple who were delighted that you and your kin would stay with them.” He inclined his head to her when they reached the door, but he didn’t leave, wanting to kiss her in the worst way. Would a Norsewoman’s lips be as sweet as a Scotswoman’s? He was dying to learn the truth.

  She opened the door and bid him a good night, then shut the door. He stared after it wishing he’d kissed her and not allowed her to get away. He let out his breath and told himself tomorrow would be another day, and tomorrow eve at gloaming? Mayhap another encounter with the Viking water goddess?

  When he retired to bed that night, all he could think of was Isobel—and how much he had wanted to seduce the woman from the moment he had laid eyes on her when he was a wolf in the woods while she had climbed the cliff.

  He finally drifted off to sleep until he was swept away into the world of dreams.

  Hans bumped his shoulder. “If you make a play for her and she and her pack kill you, we will take down every last one of them.” He spoke his words only so Alasdair could hear them.

  “You will no’. If she and her pack see me as a threat, I will retreat until she realizes I’m no’ going away. But if she did try to kill me and somehow succeeded, you would take no action against her or her kin. They are only trying to survive, just like we are.”

  The wolves’ ears were perked, listening to any sounds of danger or something to hunt.

  “You are the most stubborn of us, Alasdair.”

  “I need a wolf mate. She will do.” Finding another wolf pack was nigh to impossible. Wolves, aye, but not lupus garous like them. She intrigued him because she was not a Highland lass, but from the north country.

  Their other brother Rory, and their sister, Bessetta, joined them and he wanted to groan out loud. Did they have to follow him everywhere? Aye, he was the eldest, by about fifteen minutes, and by virtue of that, he’d taken charge from the time of birth on. He’d scrambled to his mother’s teat and once he’d had his fill, he’d ensured his smaller sister, the last born, had plenty of milk too. It had been a good thing he had taken charge of his siblings from the onset because once their mother and father had died at sea ten years later, he and his siblings had been fending for themselves. Until he took over the pack.

  “I want the one with the black fur on his tail,” Bessetta said.

  Rory scoffed. “He is a wild Norseman. And too young for you.”

  “And Alasdair is intrigued with the Norsewoman. She is as wild as the wolf with the black-tipped tail. Besides, you are a wild Highlander.” Bessetta and the others quickly crouched lower when one of the wolves looked their way.

  Because of the direction the wind was blowing, the northern wolves couldn’t smell them, but Alasdair and his siblings smelled them.

  “Does she always hunt with her bow?” Bessetta asked Alasdair. “Have you seen her as a wolf?”

  “Aye.” A beautiful wolf with a mix of white, yellowish, and black fur, her chin and throat white.

  “Alasdair, are you going to sleep your life away?” Hans was asking him, and Alasdair opened his eyes and glanced around his chamber, realizing that the sun was already streaming through one of the narrow windows. “We worried you were ill. Are you feeling all right?”

  Alasdair didn’t even know what Isobel and her kin looked like while wearing their wolf coats. The dream he’d had of her was already fading, yet he recalled vividly what she had looked like. The dreams he’d had of her before? Those had come true. Would these also? Well, not about how they had met. Or that he had to take her as a mate. Even Elene could be a good choice for a mate. She had a real infinity for bairns and sewing. Though Isobel was really good with the bairns also. She was protective and eager to show her fighting and hunting skills. For her to take charge of a group of bairns and a slave and cross the dangerous ocean to hopefully find a safe home for them when they were moving into the enemies’ territory? She was remarkable.

  He had hopelessly fallen for her.

  “Conall said Isobel was at the loch guarding you,” Hans said as Alasdair hurried to dress.

  He sighed. He hadn’t thought that news would get out. “She wanted to bathe in the loch.”

  “Aye, because of the journey they’d made here. Conall bathed this morning. You came into the keep late, later than usual last eve. I was afraid I’d have to send men out after you. That some harm might have come to you.” Hans smiled as they headed down the winding stairs to the great hall to break their fast, appearing as though he didn’t believe anything of the sort.

  “Did you?” Alasdair hadn’t considered that, but it would be protocol to check up on him if he were late in returning for the night when he’d been alone. Or so he’d thought at the time.

  “Aye. Just Rory and me though.”

  Alasdair shook his head. So that’s how they knew he had been swimming at the loch near the croft. The other loch was closer to the keep and he suspected they had wanted to see if he was planning to visit Isobel at the croft instead.

  “When Rory and I saw the reason for your delay, we left the two of you alone. Though I had a devil of a time getting Rory to come with me without making a big scene and alerting you we were there.”

  “After I swam?” Alasdair asked.

  “Aye.”

  He shook his head again. He couldn’t believe his brothers had arrived at the loch also but had to have been downwind of him and Isobel and said nary a word of it to him. Until now.

  “If you are no’ interested in the lass, I would be willing to mate her. Most of the members of the pack would, to be sure. Rory’s tongue was hanging out the rest of the eve.”

  Alasdair laughed.

  “’Tis true. He will deny it, but what I say is true. Did you want to change the seating arrangements when we break our fast this morn?”

  “Why?” Alasdair asked, suspecting he knew what his brother was getting at.

  “So she can sit beside you? She can be your personal guard.”

  “Nay.” Alasdair wouldn’t mind being her personal guard and protecting her sweet body all night long. But he knew if he had her sit beside him, the word would circulate throughout the pack that he had already selected her to be his mate when he needed to get to know her better first.

  5

  That morning when they went to break their fast, Isobel noticed the change in people’s attitude toward her. More deferent. She wasn’t sure what it meant.

  “Och,” Elene said, “you wouldna believe what everyone is saying.”

  “What?”

  “That you swam with his lairdship in the loch last night.” Elene’s eyes were wide. “Did you?”

  “We are sitting at the lower table, ja? If Alasdair and I were seeing each other as in courting as wolves, wouldn’t I be sitting at the high table?” At least Isobel thought so.

  Elene shrugged. “I have no idea. So tell me. Is it true?”

  “Nay. I washed off the sea salt coating my skin and hair.”

  “Oh, aye. I did too. It felt wonderful. I made the bairns bathe. They fought me over it. Though once they were clean, they were grateful. The salt was so harsh on their skin. But I have heard tell that his lairdship was at the loch at the same time as you last eve.”

  Isobel smiled. “I was guarding him.”

  “Nay.” Then Elene laughed. “That is precious. Three women in the clan are ready to kill you over it. They have been trying to catch his eye since their families joined the pack. Just watch out for them.”

  Isobel choked on her mead and once she caught her breath, she laughed. She didn’t think she stood a chance to be Alasdair’s mate, but she loved a challenge. “They will have no chance with him.” If they had, she figured he wouldn’t have been eyeing her so at the loch last night. He probably would have already mated one of them.

  “Who are they? Since I am no’ staying at the keep, I am no’ privy to what is going on there.” Which in a way was kind of nice. On the other hand, it was nice having Elene there who could tell her what was being said.

  “Mege is the one who is pushing her plan the most. The pretty dark-haired woman seated two tables over. She is glowering at you even now as we speak. Then there is Marioziota and Theebet. But they willna pursue Alasdair unless he does the pursuing. Mege isna one to cross, however. She thought she had an in with him and then you came along. Alasdair’s sister has filled me in on all the details.”