Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

And then she had closed her eyes, and his mother, who had been made a hybrid by his father and should have been invincible, died.

Dracula had used the only weapon that could kill an immortal hybrid. Chase had made up his mind that one day, someday, he would take that weapon and plunge it into Dracula’s eyes … first one and then the next.

Unable to locate Dracula, Chase’s father had gone off alone to grieve. Chase had remained at their home. Needing to escape from the misery of his disillusionment, the grief over his loss, and the guilt he felt about being unable to avenge his mother’s murder at Dracula’s hands, he’d retreated into seclusion. For the past year, his thoughts and heart treated each other with self-pity while he plotted a course to find and destroy the ancient immortal.

Chase MacAdams was powerful beyond measure and equipped with skills that made him far more deadl

y than his gentle mother. He was also a dissatisfied man and an alpha wolf in desperate need of something he could not, would not name to himself … a mate.

He had not in all his three hundred years imprinted on a female—and 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 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.

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 halfway down the foothill, 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 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; 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 she had inside into virtual non-existence.

Her eyes were often described by young men attempting to seduce her as exotic, but it was more than a line. It was the truth. Her eyes were almond-shaped, large and green like a deep, dark lake, also from her mother, but if you looked closely and deeply 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 a man 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. The separate garage was of 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, another a jeep, and the other a truck. She smiled because it was a Ford 250—American made, in the Highlands. Who would have thought?

She sighed and wondered if Chase MacAdams was out walking his foothills. Where would he be? She grimaced—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, she fished in her pocket for her keys. Then she 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 her hips swayed as her provocative body moved gracefully, almost stealthily when she walked. He watched her as she went to his garage, and with the accuracy of his vampire vision he saw her delicate dark brows draw together. Who the hell was she?

He hurried the remainder of the way and entered his home through the back door, threw on a pair of jeans and a black T, and slipped into his Gucci boots, smiling to himself at the look he presented in his mirror. Oh yeah, style it up for the lady.

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 ye?”

She turned, and he sucked in air. She was breathtaking. At a distance he had seen she was beautiful, but now, close up, her good looks simply blew him away. The wind picked up and took a strand of her black, silky hair and sprayed it across her face. She brushed it away and smiled at him.

His hard-on throbbed 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. 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 ye 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, are ye … a long way from home?”