He laughed. “No, but go ahead if you want.”
“I suppose they wouldn’t be close enough. The passengers would have to use binoculars to see us.”
“The truth is, nobody can see us up here, unless maybe from a passing helicopter, but even that’s not likely. I think we could run around nak*d up here without a soul noticing.”
She glanced up at him. “I sense this has something to do with your suggested change in plans.”
“Aye. But I need to know if your heart’s set on eating at the top of the Space Needle.”
“I doubt we could do that nak*d.”
His lips twitched. “That would be frowned upon.”
She scanned the horizon and pointed off to their left. “Isn’t that it, right over there?”
“Yes.”
“It is somewhat taller than we are. And you did say that alpha males like to seek high ground.”
“I did say that. But this is very high ground right here, and more than that, it’s exclusive high ground, which counts for a lot in an alpha’s world.”
“I see.” She enjoyed listening to him make his case, even though she’d already chosen.
“But if you really want to see the most spectacular view in Seattle, we should go to the Space Needle.”
“You’re quite sure we can’t eat there nak*d.”
He glanced down at her with a smile. “No, we cannot. No shoes, no shirt, no pants, no underwear, no service.”
“How restrictive!”
He nodded. “Quite restrictive.”
“Then I’m thinking, who needs it?”
“See that, lass? My favorite part of your body just made me a very happy Were. But if I’m going to cancel our restaurant reservations, I’ll need to let go of you to do it.”
“I feel like I’m riding a bike with training wheels on, but let’s find out whether I panic when you let go.”
He gradually released her. “How’s that?”
“So far so good.”
“How about I take those flowers?”
“Oh.” She glanced down at them and realized she’d been holding them very tightly. “I think I choked them to death.”
“Look on the bright side. If I cut off the mangled part of the stem, they’ll now fit in a water glass.”
“And judging from this place, the glasses will be Waterford, so I suppose all is well.”
“It is, Luna. It definitely is. If you think you’ll be fine here, I’ll make the call and organize your flowers. Otherwise I can guide you back to the sofa.”
“Now, that’s ridiculous.” She flapped her hand at him. “Go. Make your call. Fix the flowers.”
“I will.” As he stepped back and consulted his phone, she began edging to her left, crablike. She’d never stayed in a penthouse before. She’d cleaned plenty of them, but she’d managed to do that without standing right next to the windows that always seemed oversized in a penthouse. She supposed that was the idea.
Eventually she reached the spot where the drapes were still drawn. But, being a clever female, she’d already figured out that the drapes disguised what was essentially a goldfish bowl of a suite. Walls divided up the circle into wedge-shaped pieces, but the edge of the bowl was all glass.
Without Colin here to steady her, she would have hated it, but he coaxed her to stretch, to push her boundaries. Grabbing hold of the rod hanging at the edge of the drapes, she began to pull as she sidestepped along. If she kept looking out instead of down, that helped. Fools who didn’t mind leaning against windows would have a view of the street below, but Luna saw no percentage in that. Gazing out, however, made her feel like a hawk in flight, and that was a sensation worth having.
“How’s it going?” Colin came up beside her. He’d taken off his sport coat and rolled back the sleeves of his shirt. He looked… totally hot.
“It’s going good.” She gave him a tentative smile. “If I can stay in this room for three or four weeks, I’ll probably cure myself of acrophobia.”
“Was your mother bothered by it?”
“No, although New Orleans isn’t known for its skyscrapers. But I used to panic if she took me out on a balcony in the French Quarter.”
“Considering that, you’re doing very well.” He glanced behind him. “I don’t know if you noticed the wet bar, but there’s champagne chilling in a bucket and a plate of strawberries and finger sandwiches. Someone must have whisked it up here while we were checking in.”
She clutched the drapes. “Do you want some?”
“I do. I feel like celebrating.”
“What?”
“Not what. Who. I want to celebrate Luna Reynaud.”
“Luna Thisbe.” Although she corrected him, she was thrilled by his extravagant comment. No one had ever suggested celebrating her.
“You can be Luna Thisbe tomorrow if you insist upon it, but tonight, be Luna Reynaud, the Were who convinced me to hang on to a piece of my past.” He held out his hand.
“All right.” She placed her hand in his strong, warm grip, and he drew her away from the window into a somewhat cozy area that contained a curved sectional covered in ivory leather. A wet bar had been placed behind it, and she saw the champagne bucket and food he’d mentioned.
Nothing in this penthouse could truly be called cozy, though. Even with the drapes closed, she would still know that the fishbowl was just behind the curtain.
But Colin had shortened the stems on her daisies, put them in a whisky glass, and set the glass on a black granite coffee table tucked into the curve of the sectional. The daisies brought warmth and hominess to what was otherwise a rather intimidating space.
“Sit right there.” Colin pointed to a spot on the sectional. “I’ll bring you champagne and something to nibble on.”
“What if I want to nibble on you?”
He laughed. “That can be arranged.”
Settling onto the ivory leather, Luna took off her sandals and slid them under the coffee table. The chocolate brown carpet under her bare feet was thicker and softer than any she’d stepped on. She might never be in a place like this again, so she might as well make the most of it.
Colin walked around the end of the sectional and deposited the food plate on the coffee table before handing her a flute of champagne with the bubbles rising merrily to the top.
“That just looks like a party.”
“George didn’t spare any expense. This is top-of-the-line bubbly.”
“I can see what you mean about him showing off. What do you suppose he wants?”
“He told us.” Colin came back with his own glass and sat down next to her. “He wants in on Whittier House. I think he would have liked to establish a Were resort himself, and you beat him to it.”
“I got ahead of a pack alpha?”
“You did.” Colin raised his glass. “To Luna Reynaud.”
“I don’t think I can drink to myself.”
“Yes, you can. We’re all alone in this insanely expensive penthouse, so we can do whatever we bloody well feel like.”
She laughed. “I like your attitude, Your Lairdness.”
“If you don’t stop calling me that, I’ll start thinking that’s right. So are we drinking to you?”
“We are.” She touched her glass to his. “To Luna Reynaud, who dreamed up a concept that’s the envy of a pack alpha who’s richer than God.” She took a sip of her champagne. “That even tastes rich.”
“Trust me, it’s as rich as it tastes.”
She took another sip. “I could get used to this.”
“Don’t. That’s what he wants. I’m sure this is all an elaborate bribe to convince me to let him have a share of the action.”
“But why? He obviously has more money than he’ll ever need, so why mess around with a little inn on a remote island? It wouldn’t be worth his time.”
“He can’t stand the fact that someone’s launching an interesting and potentially successful business in his own backyard and he’s not part of it.” Colin picked up the plate of food and held it out. “You’ll like this, too, but don’t get used to it.”
“Should we pack up our things and take a cab to the nearest cheap sleep?”
“That would be a deliberate slap in the face. We stay the night, enjoy ourselves… ” He paused to wiggle his eyebrows at her. “And thank him profusely for his hospitality. But when he asks again to have a share in Whittier House, we tell him no.”
“And then what?” Luna bit into a strawberry. “Oh, my God, this strawberry is so sweet it should be illegal.”
“That’s because George gets the best. And he can see that Whittier House is going to be the first, and no doubt the best, Were retreat in the Pacific Northwest.”
Luna wasn’t sure she liked the idea of going head-to-head with the likes of George Trevelyan. “You didn’t answer my question. What happens when he asks again, after treating us to this posh penthouse, and he still gets the cold shoulder?”
He gazed at her. “I don’t know. I guess that’s why I’d like you to clear things with your grandparents soon. I don’t want George to insert himself into that situation.”
Luna’s tummy began to hurt, so she drank more champagne, which helped. “This isn’t a game.”
“It is to George.”
She gazed at him. “Not to me.”
Chapter 17
Colin debated, once again, whether he dared extend his stay so he’d be around to deal with George’s manipulations. But when he’d used his phone to cancel the reservations at the Space Needle, he’d seen a text message from Duncan, who wanted him to call as soon as he could. Duncan was about to do something rash. Colin could feel it.
A phone call probably wouldn’t stop him, either. But it might delay whatever daft thing Duncan planned to do concerning his girlfriend, Molly. Colin was torn between the beautiful woman sitting next to him sipping champagne, and his obligation to keep his family from descending into chaos.
To further complicate matters, his father was extremely conservative in addition to being in ill health. The last time Colin had talked with his mother, she’d hinted that if Duncan went through with his threat to mate with a human, it might send his father into cardiac arrest.
The text message from Duncan weighed on Colin’s mind. Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible if he made a quick call while Luna sipped champagne and ate gourmet finger sandwiches and strawberries that had been hand-picked by cherubs singing the “Hallelujah Chorus.” Luxury had its uses.
“I hate to do this,” he said. “But I had a message from home, and I think it might be a good idea if I checked in.”
“Go right ahead.” Luna gestured with her champagne glass. “I know you have a crisis going on over there.”
He grimaced. “Right. That’s why you were treated to my unpleasant rant this morning.”
“I’m over that, Colin. You have your reasons, good ones I’m sure, for thinking the way you do, and it has nothing to do with me. It’s not as if what we’re sharing now is a long-term thing.”
Hearing her talk so casually about their relationship, when her eyes told a different story, left a bitter taste in his mouth. Yet she was right. Come to think of it, she had a more sensible attitude than he did. She knew exactly where they stood, while he was still trying to bargain with Fate to change the status quo.
“Let me give you a wee bit more champagne before I go.”
“That’s fine. It’s very good champagne.” She smiled at him as he refilled her glass. “But I promise not to get used to it. Tomorrow I’ll go back to the usual rotgut.”
She had a gift for making him laugh, and he was going to miss that along with every other wonderful thing about Luna. If he were more evolved, he’d be able to enjoy the present moment with her and not anticipate the eventual heartbreak when they parted. Apparently he wasn’t that evolved, because thoughts of leaving her polluted every blessed moment of being with her. Bloody hell.
He added more champagne to his own glass before carrying it and his phone to the master bedroom. As he waited for the call to go through, he pulled back the drapes and discovered Seattle spread beneath him. In a couple of hours, when it grew dark and the lights came on, it would be quite a view, nearly as good as the Space Needle.
Duncan answered on the second ring. Colin had forgotten to estimate the time change and belatedly realized it must be about two in the morning in Scotland. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No, brother mine, you did not.” The sound of rustling sheets and the murmurings of a female voice filtered through the phone line. “But you did interrupt me.”
“Oh.” Bollocks. He’d called when his brother was hav**g s*x with the very woman everyone was so concerned about.
“Can’t be helped now,” Duncan said. “Let me head on into the other room so Molly doesn’t have to be bored with our conversation.”
“Make very sure she can’t hear it.” Colin took a good long sip of his champagne. The last thing he needed was for the woman to overhear a mention of werewolves.
“Don’t worry.”
Colin couldn’t help but worry. He didn’t see any way this was going to go well, and he resented being forced to abandon Luna while he counseled his little brother on a proper course of action.
It didn’t escape him that Luna was no more suitable for him than Molly was for Duncan, but at least Colin hadn’t proposed mating with her. His heart might yearn for that, but it would be madness. She wouldn’t agree to it, anyway, considering how attached she was to Whittier House.
“All right,” Duncan said in a weary tone. “Here’s the situation. Molly expects me to marry her, which in her world is the way these things go. Ring, church, honeymoon.”