HighlandHeat (6 page)

They shared another pint before calling it a night and Hamish
made his way home. Using the Underground wasn’t difficult, but if given the
choice, he preferred traveling above ground. It wasn’t that he was
claustrophobic, because he wasn’t. He simply preferred fresh air and the open
sky above to racing around in the stifling darkness below.

The concierge at the club arranged for a black cab and he
enjoyed the quiet ride home. The driver didn’t chat at all, which was good
because he wasn’t in the mood for talking. He played some jazz that suited him
perfectly. After going through it all with his cousin, he’d calmed somewhat.
Now he felt contemplative. He tried to get comfortable with the new sensuality
making its way through him. While he wished he could go out and find her,
settle things immediately, it wasn’t going to happen.

What he had to do was get a grip on his patience and keep it
in check. The state he was currently in, close to the boiling point, there was
no way he’d be able to handle simply speaking with her. The effort had to be
made to keep the emotions in control. Too much was at stake not to.

Because it was so late, there was little hassle as the cab
moved through some of the busiest areas of the city. They made good time on
their way through the roundabouts marking Mayfair and Hyde Park Corner, along Park
Lane with the grand open space of Hyde Park lost in darkness on one side and
the wild and bright West End on the other. Within fifteen minutes, they drove
around the Marble Arch roundabout and into a peaceful neighborhood in the
bustling city. He owned a place here in London. With all the business he handled
here and the fact that he periodically sported horns, it meant he didn’t fit
well into the hotel lifestyle.

It was well past midnight by the time Hamish made it home,
and he was too wound up to sleep, or maybe he didn’t want to. There was so much
going on in his life to simply close his eyes and think everything would be
settled in the morning. Instead, he sat in his living room staring at the
flames flickering in the fireplace, without really seeing them. He couldn’t
stop himself from thinking about her, Grace. She was the woman who seemed to
have the ability to consume his mind and body. Actually, he didn’t want to push
thoughts of her away, he liked how she fit inside him.

Duncan hadn’t called yet with any details. Maybe it had been
too much to ask of him this late. Honestly it didn’t matter, he was too eager
to know what he could about her, so he waited. He had to remember to keep in
mind that no matter what else he learned, he still had to apologize for being
such a rude idiot at the party. There were no excuses for how he’d acted,
although Hamish hoped she wasn’t really interested in the money over the
person.

Or a lesbian. If she was, then he’d have no chance with her
and he wanted one.

Walking over to the side bar, he poured a splash of whisky
to sip while he waited. Lifting the glass, he smelled dark fruits, spices, oak
and other aromas he found relaxing. The scent of fine old whisky never failed
to remind him of home where he liked to spend time in his study, unwinding at
the end of the day with a glass of the golden beverage. Before he could take a
drink, he felt his pocket vibrate. Putting the glass down on the bar, he
quickly pulled his mobile out and answered it without checking the screen to
see who it was. It simply had to be his nephew.

“What do you have for me, Duncan?”

“Plenty. You ready?”

“Yes.” Looking to be comfortable for this conversation, he
picked up his whisky and went to sit on the couch. With his feet on the table,
he took a drink and as the burn raced down to his stomach, he listened to the
basic information of numbers, addresses and more before he made it to the part
he’d truly been waiting to hear.

“I’ve already emailed all that information to you. Now,
because of the time, I was only able to gather some basic fundamentals on the
lady you asked about, but not much else. Her full name is Grace Ann Strachan.
She was born in Edinburgh and is twenty-eight years old. Her parents died when
she was thirteen, and without any other relatives stepping forward to help, she
became a foster child. The family she was placed with brought her to live in
Balmedie, a village north of Aberdeen. While there, she was a star student and
took a variety of art courses along with English and history. The records show
she received funding to attend Royal College of Art. It looks like she worked
the same two jobs throughout her advanced education. One was in a boutique and
the other a pub.”

Hamish closed his eyes and tried to picture the woman he’d
seen earlier as a student. He could imagine the fire for learning filling her
eyes. She must’ve been full of energy, eager to embark on her chosen path and
start fulfilling her goals. While lost in this picture, he murmured the first
question that came to mind.

“What did she graduate with?”

“A first with honors.”

He smiled, that’s what he’d expected. The silence on the
line finally caught up with him and he had a good idea why.

“Did you find any photos of her?”

“Yes, and she’s stunning. Those eyes are—”

“I know. Where are the pictures from?”

“Graduation, and then there are a handful of others from a
few years later. Those show her dressed up at various events and ceremonies she
attended.”

“What happened after college?”

“She went on to apply for and was awarded a grant from the
Prince’s Fund. At first it was to start a business making hats for the charity
that maintains many of the estates and gardens throughout the UK. After a year
and a half, she went back to the board and was given approval to cut her
contract short in order to open her own store. It’s called Frivolity and the
flagship shop is in a great position on Old Bond Street. Since then, I found
she won the Accessory Designer of the Year award three times. Besides London,
she owns shops in Leeds and Edinburgh, all of which are thriving.”

The lady he’d cornered at the event earlier mentioned a few
of these things, but this time he heard it with a more open mind. She hadn’t
been after anything from him or any other man. Grace Strachan was in charge of
her own life. She’d worked hard for what she had and was successful. It also
seemed like she had the support and respect of those in her field as well. This
was a big deal and he couldn’t help but feel proud of all she’d accomplished.

“Some of the most popular designers in the world are using
her hats in their shows and advertisements. And not only does she have ladies
who are known for their good taste as dedicated clients, in a few months time,
she’s going to receive a royal warrant from the Prince of Wales’ second wife.
Trust me when I tell you this award will thrust her into an entirely different
bracket.”

“I didn’t know you were so into fashion.”

“I’m not, Sara is. My girlfriend talks about nothing other
than wearing a Frivolity hat to her best friend’s wedding in the spring. I’m
telling you, Hamish, this Grace Strachan is hot.”

“Hmmm.” That was something they agreed on, although maybe
not for the same reasons.

“Now, fiscally she’s—”

“Stop, stop. I don’t want that information.” He spoke loudly
to cover his nephew’s next comments.

“What? But—”

“No more, Duncan. I know you went all out to gather all this
information for me, and I appreciate it. However, I’ve heard enough.”

“Fine, it’s my turn then. You said later, and it’s later.
Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

“No, because Grace Ann Strachan is personal.”

“What? Hamish, you can’t do this to me. I’ve worked the
phone and computer for a couple of hours looking into this lady’s life. I feel
like I now have a vested interest in her. You can’t cut me off like that.”

“Yes, I can and I am.”

“Fine, but will you at least tell me if she’s you personal
or work personal?”

While earlier he may have spoken freely to Alain about what
he wanted with her, telling Duncan didn’t feel right. But neither could he lie to
the other man. He was family. He’d brought the young man on board as his
assistant so he could learn the business, be his left hand where Alain was on
his right. Already the kid knew quite a bit about how he worked, he didn’t need
to know this and the reason was simple. It was too new to share with anyone.

“All I’m going to say is that I’d like you to destroy
everything you found and keep your search for information about her between us.
No calling Gran or hassling Alain for more details. Got it?”

“Okay. Whenever you’re ready, I’d like to know what’s
between you two.”

“Fair enough. Thanks, Duncan, appreciate your keeping the
late hours and working so fast on this for me.”

“You’re the man, Hamish.”

He hung up with the first laugh of the night ringing out and
filling the living room. His nephew’s easy attitude was definitely what he’d
needed to hear. Any lingering doubts he had about going forward with his plan
to bring Grace to him had been lifted. She was the perfect woman for him. Now
he just had to make her see this as well.

* * * * *

How was it possible that the man from last night was still
on her mind, haunting her every thought?

He’d been there all night, keeping her up while he strutted
through her dreams, alternating between pissing her off and turning her on.
Damn that man. Grace stamped her foot in frustration and flopped into her chair
with disgust. She decided to stop fighting it and let him wash through her mind
and body. Then she’d be done with him for good.

The stunning man’s commanding presence was still very much
on her mind and kept her turned on. Somehow he’d managed to take control of her
passionate soul, even though she hadn’t given him permission. It was
interesting because this was all new for her. Not the handing over control to a
lover, but the blind consent bit, even if it had all taken place in her mind.
She had to figure with distance from their brief interlude came more curiosity.
She wanted to seek out his power again and test its boundaries.

What happened to her last night?

What did he do in just a few seconds to so thoroughly
captivate and entrap her?

Sitting behind her desk at the back of Frivolity, she sipped
a freshly brewed cup of chamomile tea. She glanced at her current design board
and saw none of it. Not the rough sketches, color palette or words of
inspiration to bring to life another season of hats. Instead, her exhausted
mind took over and freely traveled where it wanted and that was to the man
haunting her.

Had the months, okay, almost two years of celibacy turned
her into a sex maniac? Her body seemed to think it had, at least as far as this
particular man was concerned. It didn’t matter that her brain classified him a
jerk, her body still knew it wanted him to physically possess her, master her.
Take her places she was sure her lust had never been before, but where it would
flourish. It was hard to argue with the kind of desire currently ruling her.

Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes and tried
again to lighten up so she could find a way to come to terms with her mystery
man. Apparently this was the only way she’d get through this day.

Sexually, she preferred being submissive. Grace knew what
she was, what she enjoyed and was comfortable with her choices. She liked being
led down the twisted path of pleasure domination offered.

She sighed with relief for finding a way to let this all
float freely around her mind, without any restrictions.

Outside of his controlling demeanor and the resulting need
for sex he’d given her, what was it about this stranger that continued to hold
her attention? How, after he’d been so rude and insulted her integrity, was he
still able to intrigue her?

Why him? Shoot, that was the real question, why him? What
was so special about the Scotsman?
Ma
ybe
it would help lessen this man's hold on her if she thought about the last man
she dated.  Was she immediately attracted to him?  Where did she meet him? 
What did he say that made her think he was someone special enough to spend more
time with him?  Did he make her smile or turn her on?

Think, Grace, think.

All sorts of questions raced around her head and all of them
remained unanswered. This wasn’t working. She needed to push them away, him as
well. Sitting up, she took another sip of tea. Work was soon going to be more
hectic than she’d ever experienced before and in a good way. She must be
prepared for anything to happen, especially the unexpected. Today her plan had
been to take it easy, play around the shop with the ladies who worked for her,
get back into the creative groove before complete confusion took over and
reigned.

Despite the stranger hijacking her thoughts, Grace felt
pleased and confident with her life. It was headed exactly where she wanted it
to go, in the way she wanted it to, and today was no different. She’d dressed
in her normal sedate manner, elegant with a bit of whimsy. The classic black
stilettos, an ankle-length black pencil-slim skirt with a kick pleat in the
back and a simple, beautiful white organza blouse were merely the canvas.
Subtle pearl earrings and a bracelet were the only pieces of jewelry she wore
and waiting on her desk was the
piece de resistance
, a wonderful black
straw and red ribbon confection for her head. The minute she put the hat on,
she’d be ready for customers.

She took a deep breath and contemplated her future. In a few
months’ time she’d stand outside on Old Bond Street where the Duchess of
Cornwall would grant her a warrant for her patronage. Just thinking about
having a royal seal placed on her shopfront still surprised her. It was an
honor and would help remind her of the distance she’d travelled through hard
work and dedication.