Grumpy Shenanigans (Triple the Trouble #9)

Chapter 1

Playing Hooky

The castle interior was vast, and Suzie explored each day, poking into rooms filled with elegant furniture and valuable paintings, walls of books, and an enormous snooker table.

She loved the feminine bedrooms with their attached dressing rooms and the bathroom she’d discovered with an old clawfoot tub in excellent condition.

Attending the Highland Gathering events took up most of her time. Despite her unwillingness, she’d mingled with other single shifters and participated in activities because Saber Mitchell and London Drummond had asked her to represent Middlemarch.

This morning, her steps dragged, her enthusiasm at an all-time low. Edwina had gone. Her best friend had left with the handsome man who’d carried her from the ballroom. She hadn’t boxed his ears or slapped his face. She hadn’t marched back into the castle, indignant at his cheek.

She’d vanished.

Suzie sighed and tried not to think ill of her friend.

Each of the six shifters from Middlemarch had known they might find a mate among the gathering attendees, but Suzie had started to relax. She and Edwina would successfully navigate the gathering to take up their university places in Wellington. They’d upskill together as they’d planned.

Suzie slowed as she took in the portraits. The subjects stared disapprovingly and arrogantly from their frames. She sighed again, depression taking a grip.

Dark thoughts.

Why me pity.

Anger at her friend despite the unfairness of her thoughts.

Saber and London had explained how difficult it was to ignore a mate bond, and Suzie had seen evidence of this truth this week. Hormones and nature were a bitch, especially if you had shifter blood.

Muttering under her breath and cursing fate, she strolled through a reception room and past a gleaming suit of armor.

A delicate marble urn sat in an alcove, a spotlight showcasing the sheer beauty of the artistry.

She wandered through a short passageway and lingered in front of a staircase.

A chain hung across the stairs as a flimsy barrier with a sign attached that read Private. No admittance.

That sign had taunted her since day one of her arrival at the gathering.

Curiosity nagged at her, diverting her dark mood. Questions.

She’d grilled Angus Falconer, the castle steward, and he’d told her Castle Glenkirk had been rundown and unkempt until a Scottish billionaire had purchased the property and set about restoring it to its former glory.

Not the current owner, though. He’d inherited the property.

Angus had told her the man’s name: Niall Sinclair.

Her internet search had turned up surprisingly little, and Angus steadfastly refused to give her more than the basics.

A thought prickled through her mind, and her breath caught. She glanced left and right and couldn’t see any staff or guests. Suzie stepped closer to the sign before the impulse even registered. A second later, she was tiptoeing lightly up the stairs and around the corner.

Her pulse raced, and she fleetingly wondered what trouble might result from her nosiness.

Gah! The worst they could do was kick her out of the gathering, which would suit her fine.

The number of shifters had dwindled, although rumor told her more would show tomorrow.

New arrivals brought the risk of her finding a mate, ruining her plans.

When she reached the top, she hesitated over which direction to explore. Her instincts prompted her to the right.

Angus had told her the owner lived in the castle, so it made sense that the rooms on this level mixed antiques with modern living.

The deep chocolate brown couches were comfortable and built on the sturdy side.

She could imagine a man lounging here, watching a rugby game while drinking a glass of Scottish whisky.

Well, almost. Nowhere in this room could she see a large-screen television.

“Where the devil have you been?”

Suzie jumped at the irate Scottish burr and opened her mouth to apologize and explain she’d taken a wrong turn while searching for a bathroom. She faced the grumpy man, and her mouth dried of spit. While she was trying to corral her thoughts, the handsome, suit-wearing lug continued his tirade.

“I expected you an hour ago. Well, come along. Stop dithering. We have work to do.”

And he was massive. Freakin’ huge, standing at what she’d guess would be around six foot five. His designer suit highlighted his broad shoulders and narrow waist but concealed his musculature. Given the breadth of him, the man would possess decent muscles.

Be still my heart.

His dark brown hair was thick and unruly and fell in messy waves. Then there was his Scottish accent, rough and deep and perfect. She barely resisted the urge to pat her galloping heart.

The behemoth issued a harsh sigh and scowled. “Why are you dallying, woman? Don’t the employment agencies check their temp workers for wits? What was Angus thinking? Letting you wander on your own.”

Suzie scowled back, even as her mind worked at a furious pace.

He’d mistaken her for someone else. That was clear.

She started to put him straight before clicking her teeth together and rethinking her strategy.

Tired of assessments from shifters with a mate bond in mind, she had reached her activity limit.

With his Mr. Grump tendencies, this man had pushed her woe-is-me attitude out of her mind.

Before he could strike her with another salvo of rudeness, she said, “What did you require? Sir.” She tacked that bit on the end because, given his designer suit and presence in the private part of the castle, he might be important.

“I have documents to type.” He paused, giving her a searching glance. “Do you do dictation?”

“Yes.” That wasn’t a lie. She’d aced her secretarial course and enjoyed learning the different aspects of what made an excellent personal assistant. She could type, copy, computerize, and organize with the best of them.

Given his size, Suzie imagined he’d command respect because his presence filled the room.

“Humph!” His sharp grunt combined arrogance, doubt, and annoyance in equal measures. “Come along then, and we’ll see if you speak the truth.”

Once again, she yanked at the reins of restraint and pressed her lips together to prevent an indignant retort.

She’d rather hide up here than face the fresh shifters with uncrushed enthusiasm or the desperate ones.

That group was worse because of their urgency and the driven nature of their actions and conversation.

The big man stalked across the cream and terracotta French Aubusson carpet while Suzie followed more slowly, taking in the rug’s central medallion and floral border. She knew from her research since she’d arrived at the castle that the rug was an antique and worth many thousands.

They entered an adjoining room with a massive oak table, but she didn’t have time to dally and admire anything else. One more left turn, and they entered a modern office.

The grumpy behemoth pointed at a wooden desk. “That is your station. Coffee machine is there, and if you’re hungry, there’s food in the fridge.” He indicated a wooden cabinet, and she presumed the unit concealed the fridge.

The truth—it was difficult to concentrate on what he was saying because his sexy accent kept distracting her. She’d bet the man could read the driest document and make it seem alluring.

“My desk.” He gestured at a massive desk with orderly piles of papers, books, and a computer. “Do not chatter, hum, or tap your fingers on the desktop. Do not play on your phone or answer personal calls during work time. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Suzie said.

His hazel eyes were so beautiful—way too gorgeous for this grumpy man. They narrowed a fraction more, emitting clear suspicion. He didn’t think she was listening.

“Make our coffee, and we’ll start on the dictation after you sign the non-disclosure document. I want to record my thoughts while they’re fresh.”

Suzie barely stopped herself from giving a two-finger salute.

A non-disclosure document? Color her even more curious.

This man was a grumpy, snarly mountain of flesh, but he’d alleviated her boredom and despair.

She took a quick breath because his sudden appearance had left her instinct flagging and her mouth hanging open.

His scent filled her nostrils—tangy with an undertone of sweetness—a syrupy tartness with hints of heather and whisky.

He was a bear.

Of course, he was, now that she added the clues. Large—check. Short-tempered—check. Brown hair—hmm, perhaps a brown bear?

“What are you waiting for? I’m not paying you to stand around gawking.”

He wasn’t paying her at all. Not that it mattered.

She didn’t have to take his snapping and snarling.

Yes, she’d been trespassing and deserved chastisement for that crime.

She opened her mouth to unleash a verbal assault and changed her mind.

Her thoughts buzzed with curiosity, and she desperately wanted to learn what required a non-disclosure document from a lowly temp.

Besides, her alternative was to return to the gathering activities and fake a smile for the desperate and the newbies. Now that Edwina had gone, the gathering had lost its luster.

Suzie marched to the coffee machine and selected a pod containing industrial-strength caffeine.

For herself, she chose one flavored with vanilla.

Soon, the coffee scent perked her up, and she delivered the burly bear his steaming mug.

She grabbed a pad of paper and two pens and planted herself in the chair opposite him.