HighlandHeat (2 page)

“Help!”

But the torment continued. It felt endless. Tearing,
gnawing, she knew they were going to rip her apart.

“NO! My baby! Someone help us!”

She heard nothing except her own cries, but she wouldn’t
stop trying. Whatever the cost, she had to shield her baby from harm. From the
second he’d made his conception known, he had meant everything to her. It would
break her if something happened to him.

“Help us!”

Holding her belly and her baby inside tightly, she prayed
and called out for help. A hoof landed sharply on her head. Everything went
black. Unconsciously her body continued to protect her baby.

* * * * *

“Have you heard the news?” A shopkeeper from the village said
to the bartender as he sat himself at the bar.

“No, what’s happened?”

“This morning, Catriona Buchanan’s baby was eager to greet
the world. Hamish Buchanan emerged screaming and was pronounced in stable
condition, despite the trauma he’d suffered. Bless the lass for hanging on as
long as she did for the young’un’s sake.” The good news was received with a
heavy heart by those who heard.

It was a busy night at The Lazy Newt, full of locals who
knew the family and the young woman herself. Despite the crowd, as the news
traveled through the room, they all fell silent as they remembered the horrible
night she’d been attacked in a nearby field. The bartender looked around his
pub and found the usual patrons were present. They were a close-knit community
and all had been touched in some way by the shocking attack on the young lass.

This past Valentine’s Day had been a nightmare for everyone,
but especially the Buchanan family. Almost two full months later, an
explanation had yet to be found. Word was that something had spooked the flock
and they’d ravaged the nearest thing that was alive. MacGregor was distraught
over what happened and had all the animals involved destroyed. Prior to this
tragedy, the old farmer had been a regular at the pub, now he never came here
or anywhere else for that matter. He’d become a true recluse, causing them all
a great deal of concern for his well-being.

As he pulled himself a pint, the bartender thought about how
there’d been at least one miracle involved in the attack that night in the
field. He’d been told by one of the first responders that despite the trauma
her body had suffered, Catriona had been found clinging to life with a
desperately shallow heartbeat.

It was incredible what doctors were capable of doing these
days to bring about survival. Apparently, when the medical personnel had
determined it was hopeless to save her, they hadn’t yet given up on the baby.
Less than two hours later and after much discussion, Maisie Buchanan,
Catriona’s mum, had made the difficult decision to keep her daughter hooked
onto a ventilator for the baby to have any chance at survival.

As far as he was concerned, the Buchanans needed all the
prayers and good wishes they had to offer.

“Everyone, raise your pints to the brave lass, Catriona
Buchanan, and her young son, Hamish. May every day of his life be better than
the last.”

“Here, here!”

“Health and happiness to Hamish!”

“Here, here!”

“For young Catriona, may she soon be settled into a much
better place amongst the angels.”

“To Catriona!”

Thirty years later

London, England

An electrifying buzz filled the Royal Albert Hall. Alain
knew it had nothing to do with the party that was going on and everything to do
with them. They rarely attended functions in London, so when they did, a certain
amount of excitement followed them.

On top of that, his companion could escalate matters to a
fever pitch. His cousin had that kind of effect on people, always had and
always would. It had never bothered him that Hamish was the main draw when they
attended parties together. Even though he was almost a year older, he felt far
too protective of the other man for something as silly as who gained more
attention from the ladies to matter.

They didn’t go to many of these formal social functions, but
when they did, it was usually fun. Tonight wasn’t fun and it was their fault.
They weren’t really trying to take part in the festivities. In fact, they were
standing off to the side of the main ballroom, ignoring the guests and speaking
only to each other.

“Who do you think will be the first woman to ask the
question? I think Sarah Marshall will. Age hadn’t diminished that lady’s
sassiness. I swear, last time I saw her and was wearing a kilt, she pinched my
ass.” He tried to engage Hamish, except he was met with silence.

The night’s black-tie event required formal attire, and
being Scottish, for them this meant kilts and jackets. Alain didn’t bother to
hold back his grin. They wore tartans most days back home and it never raised
an eyebrow, but whenever they donned this more ceremonial set, it always
brought out the saucy side of women. Usually, they received a kick out of
fielding the questions of what they were or weren’t wearing beneath the kilts,
only tonight didn’t follow any of their typical patterns.

He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was, just that
there was something going on with his cousin. Over the past couple of weeks
there’d been hints of it, but nothing this drastic.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alain looked at the other man.
Hamish Buchanan took physical perfection to a whole other level, all without
trying. They were closer than most siblings and physically, they could be
twins. In fact, he and Hamish were different in two ways, their eyes and hair.
His cousin kept his hair slightly longer. More times than he could count, he
heard women say this gave the man an untamed look. There was also an element of
wildness in his golden brown eyes. They glowed with fire burning behind them,
like they were now, and this further heightened his concern.

Despite everyone thinking they knew what type of man his
cousin was, there was still much about him that was a mystery to the outside
world. Only family and very close friends knew Hamish, who he really was and
Alain would do whatever he could to keep it that way. That meant he had one
real mission while they were guests at this very public party. That was to make
sure the other man stayed as calm as possible. With this challenge in mind, he
tried again to engage him in a lighthearted conversation.

“Now there’s a woman!”

“No, she’s doll perfect, which to me clearly states she was
created under a plastic surgeon’s knife. Those breasts are water balloons, and
like her lips, overfilled. There’s nothing natural or real about the young
lady. Nothing about her appeals to me or my cock.”

Usually it was he, Alain thought, who was blunt and crude
when teasing his cousin about women. Tonight he had a mission and had hoped for
a lighter mood from Hamish in order to tempt him to, at the very least, think
about Maisie’s request. It was no secret his cousin would do anything for their
grandmum, although right now he doubted this one had a chance. Definitely not
with the attitude the other man was showing tonight, but at least he was
talking, so he’d keep trying.

“Okay, what about the redhead over there? Her legs go on
forever.”

“Nice, but no thanks. She’s not my type.” Hamish wasn’t
looking at the woman when he answered his cousin’s ridiculous attempt at
pimping.

“I haven’t seen them yet, but I heard the Watson sisters
were supposed to be here. They’re pretty good-looking and rumor is that they’re
fabulous to fu—”

“No.” The answer was bluntly stated and without any
qualifiers.

“Hamish!”

“What?”

“There are many beautiful women here tonight. Snap your
fingers and any one of them would be yours for as long as you wanted.”

“Listen, I’ve already told you that I’m not here to find a
bedmate.”

“What about a wife?”

“Fuck you! Above all others, you should know the lady who
owns me heart, body and soul is what I want, and trust me, she won’t be here.
How big my bank account may be, what clothes I wear or where my home is won’t
matter to this particular woman. She’ll love me for
me
. And when I say
me
,
I’m including what this selection of society would consider my more depraved
qualities. I know I won’t find anyone with all these qualities here at a
charity event where people come to be seen, but not necessarily to give. End of
story. What’s up with you? You’re starting to sound like Maisie.”

After swigging the last of his whiskey, Hamish started
making his way to the bar for another. Before he’d gone two steps from his
cousin, he grinned and made one last parting shot from over his shoulder just
to rankle the man.

“You’re single, Alain, how about going and finding a woman
for yourself. That’ll keep our gran happy.”

Hamish knew his cousin was a good man, but this evening he
found him too annoying to be around. Trying for a calming breath, he tunneled
his fingers through his hair and felt the boned ridges resting just beneath the
surface on either side of his temple. Something was definitely not right
tonight. Whatever was happening inside him had been made worse by his feeling
anxious and restless. It would be best for everyone if he went home early. His
patience was obviously on a very short leash and he’d hate for it to snap here
in the middle of England’s upper crust.

They might be shocked by what a beast he could be.

Instead of making an extraordinarily early exit, he made his
way to the end of the line for one last drink. It was difficult to do, but he
forced himself to keep a tight hold on his patience. He wasn’t in the mood to
be bothered and decided it would be a good idea if he used his body language to
discourage people from stopping to talk with him. Crossing his arms over his
chest, he thought about how small talk wasn’t his forte and neither was a large
function like this one. It didn’t help matters that everything about tonight
seemed more unbearable with each minute that passed and he hadn’t a clue why.

There were no surprises here and normally he’d consider this
function a worthwhile party to attend. Every year he came down to London for
this particular event, happily lending his name and presence to the cause in
order to help them gain more attention and therefore more money. In return, the
organizers guaranteed his privacy and never disclosed the amount he gave in his
mum’s name. It bothered him how there was always someone who wanted to know how
much he donated, as if it mattered. That was personal and he’d do whatever it
took to keep it that way.

Having recently celebrated his thirtieth birthday, Hamish
thought it was possible he’d reached a turning point in his life. Maybe there
was something big out there, waiting for him to reach out, take hold of it and
start a new path in his life. It was just a theory though. Consciously or not,
the frustration of not knowing why he was on edge was becoming unbearable.

Running his hands through his hair again, double-checking
the ridges hadn’t changed, he couldn’t help but think how luck, both good and
bad, had played such an important part in his life. His first breath hadn’t
been smooth and he hadn’t had a parent to soothe him. His mum had died with his
birth and his father couldn’t handle setting eyes on him. Luck had been with
him and had family stepping into the void and taking him into their loving
embrace.

He believed his difficult start and the unconditional
acceptance of his family had a great deal to do with the man he’d become.
Receiving his education at home had also been a good turn. It had allowed him
to excel in areas that interested him the most, like computers and maths. In no
time at all, his focus and skills in these two areas brought him incredible
fiscal success. Once he’d ensured that his grandmum and the rest of his family were
comfortably settled, he’d moved on to the next challenge. Property development
opportunities in Inverness had caught his attention and he’d jumped into the
arena with both feet. His timing had been perfect and he’d made an even bigger
killing. He was still making money hand over fist and enjoyed what he was
doing.

All of this success and security should mean he was
satisfied with his life, but he wasn’t. Hamish knew there was something more
out there for him. Problem was he hadn’t been able to figure out what it was,
so he could pursue it. There was a sense inside him that once he had whatever
it was, everything would be right again.

“Treble whisky, straight and no rocks. Thank you.”

Taking the crystal tumbler of the golden elixir from the
bartender, Hamish moved off to the side. Every year Alain came along to both
give support for the Women’s Defense Fund and to help keep him on an even keel.
Apparently tonight their plan had backfired, because there was nothing cool or
calm about how he was feeling. Running a finger along his collar, he took a sip
and realized he was running hot, as if he had a temperature. Odd, he thought,
he didn’t think he was coming down with anything, nor did he normally feel this
warm. Shaking his head cleared the muck away and he went back to thinking about
family.

They settled him.

The more he thought about it, the more he believed Alain
must’ve folded under the pressure and joined the family’s quest to find him a
woman, specifically a wife. There were few secrets within the Buchanan clan.
Every one of them knew what type of monster he truly was and unfailingly kept
his confidence. However, his cousin was the only person who knew the true
extent of his more extreme needs. Alain knew and didn’t judge his cousin’s
alternative sexual preferences which made the search for a companion a
difficult undertaking, if not impossible.

Frustrated, Hamish took another drink of whisky and decided
ten more minutes was all his hosts were getting from him tonight. It would have
to be enough this year. He noticed a particularly determined social maven
making her way toward him. Walking away from the wall, he started to circle the
room. A moving target was harder to catch.

On an evening like this one, all sorts of things filled his
mind, but tonight was different. Since he’d started getting ready to go out,
there’d been something he didn’t understand rapidly growing inside him. It
wasn’t a thing, but an intense need for some unknown and it left him feeling
eager, agitated and uneasy. He needed to figure it out, and quickly, before
things spiraled beyond his control.

Stalking the edges of the party was making it worse, and
yet, now that he’d started delving in to what was bothering him, he couldn’t
find the will to stop. Having defined some of what he felt, it was time to
figure out what was happening to cause this unease in him. With that thought,
an image flashed into his mind and he immediately pushed it away because it
didn’t make sense. The problem was the same picture kept coming back until he
truly looked at it and then put himself into it.

Not that it made much more sense, but as he turned it around
in his mind, looking at from every different direction, it appeared as if he
literally was chasing something. Just putting a name to what was going on inside
him had his heart beating so fast, like he was running full speed. Except he
wasn’t, he was walking around a ballroom, dressed up in his formal kilt attire
and feeling out of sorts.

Without thinking about what he was doing, his eyes raced
around the room, assessing the women attending the function. He took note of
this one and that, casting them aside with little thought. While he continued
tracing his gaze over various women, there was a need growing inside him until
he finally settled on what it was he was searching for. He needed to find a
woman.

No, not just any woman, but his woman. His mate.

Damn! Where had this focused need to find and mark a mate
suddenly come from? When had he ever thought of a woman in such terms? He’d
like to say it was his cousin’s fault for putting the idea in his head, but it
wasn’t. It was his life, his needs that were making him feel this way and he’d
have to find a way through it.

One thing he was sure of was that the woman meant for him
would have to be very special, because the particulars that made him who he was
could be seen as horrific. He’d always believed any woman would run when he was
fully exposed, but the one who belonged with him wouldn’t leave. With a fierce
frown marking his face, he picked up the pace as he moved more intently around
the room. Five more minutes and not a second longer, then he’d be free.

“Grace! You finally made it. What took you so long?” A
nasally high-pitched voice shouted from somewhere behind him right before he
felt a body brush by on his left. Natural reflexes had him following the flash
of gaudy red as it moved past him.

“I missed my train and the next one was delayed in York.” A
soft brogue laced the words and caught his attention. His cock twitched with
interest. Fascinating, especially considering that he’d just discovered why he
was so on edge. On a whim, Hamish changed his route to follow behind the duo as
they made their way toward the bar.

“Thoughtful for inviting me…very hectic…glass of wine…”