Taffeta & Hotspur (26 page)

He was immune to the weather’s biting
cold against his skin. He could feel it, for it stayed cold in the
Highlands until late spring, but it didn’t chill the human in him
as he stood patiently awaiting the right moment, his heart pumping
exuberantly with the thrill of the hunt.

He didn’t have to hunt, as he had a
fully stocked cellar at my home, but the need … drove him at times
like this.

He crunched for his lethal jump as he
heard the old stag in the distance approach. He chose this
particular buck because the twelve-pointer was aged and showing
signs of decline. He would honor him by bringing his life full
circle, and he’d make his death quick.

The stag had not picked up his scent
and slowly wandered into range. The man transformed once more into
wolf and waited with infinite patience. He wanted a clean kill, one
that would be as painless as he could achieve.

All at once and with precision, he was
on the stag, bringing him down. A wolf could overpower even
something ten times his size. A hybrid had the strength of many
wolves.

He made a quick, clean kill, tearing
at the stag’s throat to accomplish the kill in the
instant.

He needed the fresh blood for the
vampire so much a part of who he was, and he wanted the fresh raw
meat for the wolf. The human honored the old stag with an ancient
Indian prayer.

The human … Chase MacAdams was a
hybrid extraordinaire, billionaire, and recluse, and he thought
himself a pitiful being, alone and disillusioned with his lot in
life. With all the power he held, with all the power his father
held, they had not seen that his beautiful mother had a stalker and
had been in mortal danger that fateful afternoon. They had arrived
on the scene too late to save her, but they had taken on the
ancient vampire—Dracula—but had lost him even as they worked to
annihilate him.

She had whispered in her last moment
that she had not given up her dear friend’s secret. She had not
told Dracula what he wanted to know …

And then she had closed her eyes, and
his mother, who was a hybrid, and whom he had always thought
invincible, died.

Dracula had the only weapon that could
kill an immortal hybrid … had it still, and Dracula, although he
and his father had tried to trace him, was off the grid.

Chase’s father had gone off to grieve,
but he had stayed on at MacAdams in seclusion and self-pity,
plotting what he would do if ever he found the ancient
immortal!

Chase MacAdams was powerful beyond
measure and equipped with skills that made him nearly invincible,
and yet, he was a dissatisfied man and an alpha wolf in desperate
need of something he could not, would not name … a mate.

He had not in all his three hundred
years imprinted on a female—he had never really fallen in
love.

He raised his head, and his dark gold
wolf eyes surveyed the craggy hillside as he released a long
soulful howl, one that was picked up by a nearby pack of wolves and
returned with encouragement. Wolves have a deep and caring social
order, and he had been accepted by the local pack a very long time
ago.

The Cairngorms had always been his
home, but he had never before retreated into such severe seclusion
until last year, when he needed to get away from the misery of his
disillusionment, the grief of his loss, and the guilt he felt when
he was unable to avenge his mother’s murder at Dracula’s
hands.

He fed now, fulfilling his physical
needs, and left the remains for the stray wildlife that would
surely visit when he was gone. Then he was moving again with grace
and speed, a wolf reveling in the success of his hunt and the
beauty of his forest.

In the distance he could see the ruins
of Strathmore Castle, a local tourist haunt. Just below and not yet
visible, stood his home, a mansion of stone and logs …

He was so tired of living this
existence, for it was no more than that. He wanted more, but he
believed there never would be more for him. He could not allow
himself to love, for no doubt she would be human and live a human
life, and when she discovered what he was, she would be
repulsed.

Or just when he thought life had
everything to offer with a mate in his arms, he would lose her as
his father had lost his mate to some unexpected horror …

So Chase ran to escape his loneliness,
but it was always there waiting for him, around the bend, in the
mirror … in the family home that he loved …

And then he saw it—a strange car in
the bluestone gravel courtyard of his mansion. Why was it there,
and who was the beautiful, black-haired young woman knocking at his
big oak front door …?

~ Prologue ~

HER LONG, SILKY black hair was a gift
from her mother. In her stocking feet she stood at five-five, but
with her heeled boots she was a good deal taller. She rubbed her
cold hands against her jeans. She shouldn’t feel the cold … she
wasn’t supposed to feel the cold, but somehow she did; perhaps it
was because she had turned her back on what she was, suppressed
everything into non-existence.

Her eyes were often described by the
young men attempting to seduce her as exotic, but it was more than
a line. It was the truth. Her eyes were almond shaped but large and
green like a deep, dark lake, also from her mother, but if you
looked closely and deep you would see the glitter of gold—and that
she got from her mysterious Scottish father. At the moment her eyes
held a wary expression and her body was tense with the anticipation
of the unknown. She was about to do something she had never done
before, seduce with a lie.

Her dark gray rental car was parked in
the gravel courtyard, and although she had been knocking for a few
moments, it seemed as though no one was home. There was a separate
garage made in the same lovely design of stone and logs, and she
walked over to it, her heels twisting a bit in the gravel. Peering
inside with her hand over her forehead she saw three cars inside
the spacious building. One was a silver Jag, the other a jeep, and
the other a truck … and she smiled because it was a Ford
250—American made, here in the Highlands.

She sighed and wondered if Chase
MacAdams was out walking his foothills. Where would he be? He only
owned one thousand acres …

She returned to the front oak door and
peered through its long, wood-paned side window. She put her hands
on her jean-covered hips and turned to look down the long winding
driveway.

“
Well,” she told the wind.
“No one home … so I guess I’ll leave it for another day?” As she
walked towards her rental, her hips swayed and her provocative body
moved gracefully. She fished in her pocket for her keys and stopped
as she heard a sound in the woods that flanked and stretched
upwards along the driveway.

* * *

Chase licked his lips as he watched
her; she stirred a sudden, strong desire in his loins. She was a
beauty, and he liked the way she moved. There was almost a stealth
to her style. He watched her as she went to his garage, and he saw
her delicate dark brows as they drew together. Who the hell was
she?

He hurried the remainder of the way
and entered his home through the back door. He threw on a pair of
jeans and a black T and slipped into his Gucci boots, smiling to
himself, for he had always enjoyed high fashion.

He opened his door wide. Her back was
to him as she still stood by her rental and scanned the driveway.
He said, “May I help you?”

She turned, and he almost sucked in
air. She was breathtaking. At a distance he had not realized how
incredibly beautiful she was. Her black, silky hair blew across her
face, and as she brushed it away and smiled at him, he felt his
hard-on throb in his jeans, making him damned uncomfortable. Then
she spoke, and the sound of her voice sent shivers through his
body.

“
Oh, you are here
…”

“
So I am,” he said in his
Old World Scottish accent and had the satisfaction of watching her
eyes look him over with what he thought was sure appreciation. Oh,
och aye, this was going to be a good day. “Aye, then …” he said and
stood aside as he inclined his head and offered, “Would you like to
come in out of the cold, lass?”

She laughed and said, “Yes, thank you.
It is cold—I didn’t realize it would be quite this cold in your
Highlands, and I don’t think this little jacket is doing the
trick.”

He looked at the little brown,
waist-length soft leather jacket and noticed the fullness of her
breasts as his eyelids half closed. He asked,
“American?”

* * *

“Yup, that’s me … American … Native
American in fact, on my mother’s side.” She had closed the distance
between them and stepped into the central hall. A quick glance
showed her a modern ‘log cabin—mansion styled’ home. Everything was
in rich wood and stone, and it was warm and inviting. She put out
her hand and said, “Hi … I’m Roxie MacBran, and your solicitor said
you would be expecting me?” She tilted her head.

“
Tom said that?” He frowned
and turned to the round table sitting in the middle of hallway
where a stack of mail he had picked up still sat. He went to it and
sorted through until he found what he was looking for and slapped
it across his hand, “Ah …” He smiled at her. “Save us some time …
Miss MacBran, why are you here?”

“
To fill the position of
gatekeeper,” she answered with self assurance.

He stopped dead in his tracks and
shook his head. “Noo … Oh, I don’t think so.”

“
But you haven’t even looked
at my references … They should be in that envelope.” She pointed to
the letter he was still holding.

“
I was looking for a man,”
he answered roundly.

“
But I am fully qualified. I
have a gun license, and I know how to use one. I am a black belt
and—”

“
Just what do you think
being a gatekeeper involves? I don’t need protection or that kind
of a guard. I just need someone to man—the key word being ‘man’—my
gate at the beginning of my drive. People have a habit of sometimes
driving in, parking along my driveway, and using my woods for
camping. I need that to stop … and there is more of it during the
spring and summer months.”

“
If that is all you want, an
automatic gate is all you need.”

“
If no one is about, they
park outside the gate and tramp on up—”

“
Then I am the one for the
job. No one will tramp on up while I am on duty,” she said
firmly.

“
Yes, but—”

“
But what?”

“
Why would you want the job?
It can be lonely here in the Highlands.”

“
You have a village nearby
where I’m sure I can find a pub and make some friends, and there is
Inverness on my days off.”

He frowned and made a circle, came
right up to her, and leaned in close. As his six-foot-something
towered over her five-foot-five, he said, “I doona think it is a
good idea for a woman to live alone … up here away from … the
world.”

“
As I said,” she answered
softly, looking up into his gold eyes until she thought she could
feel his heart beating between them, “I know how to take care of
myself, and I need this job.”

“
Why? Why do you need this
job?”

“
The pay is more than I
could presently make in the States. Economy not so good just now,
and I’m working on my first novel.”

“
I don’t have Internet set
up in the gatehouse,” he said firmly.

“
Ah, but I looked into
getting satellite for TV and Internet—no problem. If you give me
the job they’ll be out there tomorrow.”

“
I doona like this,” he
answered, moving another step closer.

She moved into him and looked long
into his warm, gold eyes. “But you might change your
mind.”

“
I doona think
so.”

“
Give me a chance, and if it
doesn’t work, well you can always fire me, boss,” she said and gave
him a look that she hoped would blow his resolve away.

She put out her hand. “Deal? I need to
hurry and get someone out to the house to install the dish, and I
need to go shopping.”

* * *

He studied her for a long moment and
realized he’d decided to give her the job the moment he realized
that was what she wanted. He gave her his hand, and when their
hands clasped he felt a bolt of lightning shoot through his arm and
aim straight at his heart. He was in trouble. This one … this
little American … did something to him she wasn’t supposed to be
able to do. Only ‘the one’, his intended only one, the one he was
meant to take as mate, should affect him the way this one affected
him. He was momentarily off his game.

She smiled warmly and said,
“Key?”

He went to a side table, retrieved it,
and dropped it in her open palm. He didn’t want to touch her, was
afraid to touch her, afraid that he would not be able to control
himself, because at that moment all he could think of doing was
tearing off her clothes, laying her down on the wood planking, and
ramming into her …