Warrior's Moon by Lucy Monroe

look, his brown gaze filled to overflowing
with satisfaction. “You smell like me.”
    His gratification was more than a little annoying. He wasn’t beset by conflict like she was. It was apparent that to him, all was quite simple.
    But it wasn’t just typical warrior arrogance.
    “Your wolf likes that.” Again, she did not understand how she knew, but she had not doubts on the matter.
    “Aye, but do not be mistaken…the man is just as content to have every wolf in this clan know you have been marked as mine.”
    “They’ll be able to tell?” she asked, heat at the thought filling her cheeks and spreading over her chest.
“They’ll smell you on me?”
    It was a most disconcerting, not to mention embarrassing, thought. How many wolves were there? If the laird was a shape-changer like Caelis, how many others were as well?
    “Aye.”
    “Do not sound so pleased about it.”
    “I cannot help it. You are mine, Shona, and should always have been with me. I have lived without you for too long. For a time, I even believed you were dead.”
    “What? Why?” She could not imagine how much worse the last years would have been had she believed Caelis dead.
    “Why do you think? Our laird told me you had been killed by a wild boar. I carried great guilt along with my grief until I began to realize perhaps that had been a lie along with so many other things Uven told me.”
    “He is not
my
laird.”
    “No, he is not.”
    She was glad of the easy agreement, but it was not enough. “I am English now.”
    “No, you are not.”
    “I am.” No matter how he would stubbornly refuse to admit it.
    “Are you not here seeking a life in Scotland for you and your children?”
    “Yes.”
    “Because at heart, you are a fine Scottish lass.” His smile was irresistible.
    But still she said, so there could be no confusion, “I’ll not wear the MacLeod colors again.”
    “Not now. But later.”
    “Never.”
    “Never is—”
    “A long time. So you’ve said.”
    “Best you remember that.” He was smiling again.
    She responded with some bite, “Best you remember that I am not so easily gotten around.”
    He looked between their naked bodies with significance.
    “Your wolf can take credit for this, I think.”
    “My wolf is me.”
    “The one part of you I just might trust.”
    He jerked a little and then stared down at her. “You trust my beast?”
    “Yes. I don’t know why, but I do.”
    “You do not trust me—the man—though?” he asked carefully.
    “No.” She made no effort to soften the effect of her denial. He had betrayed her most thoroughly.
    “Yet you allowed me to touch you.”
    “I told you, blame your wolf. There is some kind of magic in this mating thing and my body is not my own.”
    The glow of satisfaction around him dimmed. “You truly believe this?”
    “Absolutely.” And he’d best not try to deny it. “Give me another explanation for a craving I cannot stand against for the touch of the very man who has betrayed me so cruelly.”
    Caelis looked down at her with shock, as if her words were beyond his ken. But surely he knew the truth of it more certainly than she. He had lived with knowledge of his wolf his whole life. She’d just found out about it.
    Finally, his mouth opened and a very ugly word came, but nothing else.
    She frowned up at him. “What is the matter?”
    “You must ask when you have just told me you still hold my actions against me in such a grievous way? That you allowed me to touch you only because you could not help yourself?”
    What did he expect? Protestations of love as she used to give him? “Did you think pleasure could erase the past?”
    The expression on his warrior’s features said he’d believed exactly that. Men! They uprooted a woman’s life, made changes over which she had no control and then expected a thank-you at the end of it. Her father had been the same.
    “Have you forgotten your anger
at Uven
for lying to you now that we have once again shared