Highland Wolf

by Alicia Montgomery

  He rubbed his head. “Och, Da, that hurts.”

  “Aye right, it wasn’t that hard. That lass was ready to skelp your face, which would have been worse.” He led Duncan into his office, a couple of doors down from the library. “I know how it feels, sonny. You’re suddenly struck with that feelin’ and then your wolf wants you to claim her and make her yours. When I met your ma, I had to court her properly. Now, in the dark ages, it woulda been easy to just carry her off and make for the hills, but that’s not how it works these days.”

  “I know that, Da.” Duncan straightened his shoulders and tugged down on his jacket. “It’s just that … what was I supposed to do? Did you even look at her? See her face?”

  “Aye, sonny.” Callum sank down in his old leather chair. “It’s strange isn’t it? Her lookin’ so similar to that lady of yours.”

  Julianna wasn’t just similar. She was the lady’s twin. If the painting wasn’t over two hundred years old, he would have thought she’d posed for it. “It’s eerie.”

  “But I suppose it makes sense. You’ve been obsessed—”

  “I was not obsessed.”

  Callum raised a bushy white brow at him “I’m sure there’s an explanation. But, I’m happy for you, sonny.” His father stood up and walked over to his liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of their finest Scotch whiskey, Three Wolves 62 Single Malt, kept in a crystal decanter that was older than either of them. He poured a measure each into two glasses and handed one to Duncan. “I was gettin’ worried you wouldn’t meet your True Mate.”

  There was a warmth in his father’s voice, but also a lot of implication. A True Mate meant pups, children to carry on the line. His wolf seemed to relish the idea of her having their pups, and Duncan couldn’t deny the appeal, and it wouldn’t be a chore. Julianna was even more gorgeous than the painting. Her olive skin looked petal-soft, and her slim body fit into his like they had been made for each other. She was perfect. And his.

  He took a sip after they raised their glasses to toast, allowing the smooth liquor to make a warm path down his throat. “Och, are you gonna cry on me, you old fart?”

  Callum laughed. “C’mon now. You’ve sowed your wild oats so much I thought you’d be startin’ a sheep farm.”

  Duncan cringed inwardly. True, he had his fair share of women, and in his younger days, he had a wild streak that had gotten him in trouble. He couldn’t help it if the female sex found him irresistible, and why would he, a single, healthy virile young man turn them down? Sure, he had broken a few hearts here and there, but he’d always been upfront with every woman he’d been with. No strings attached, no commitments. It wasn’t his fault if they all thought they could be the one to change him.

  And now, he’d found his mate, who seemed to check every box on his list, and she wanted nothing to do with him.

  Karma, indeed, was a bitch.

  “Don’t you worry, son.” Callum had probably guessed by the expression on his face what he’d been thinking. “She’ll come around; they all do.” He put down the glass. “But I have to say, I’ll be enjoyin’ the merry chase she’ll be leadin’ you on.”

  If the decanter of whiskey didn’t cost thousands of dollars, he would have downed the entire thing. “What should I do, Da?”

  “I know you’re not used to goin’ after lassies since they seem to naturally come to you, but now you’re gonna have to woo her. And you might have to be sneaky about it.”

  “Sneaky?”

  “Och, your Julianna looked like she was ready to run back to America if she had to.”

  That comment set his wolf on edge. The animal wanted nothing more than to just steal her away until she admitted she was their mate. Those Lycans back in the dark ages had it easy.

  “Use your charm, sonny,” he said. “Don’t let those handsome looks of yours go to waste.”

  “There is a complication. She’s the sister and envoy to the Alpha of New York.” One of, if not the most powerful Lycan clans in the world, not to mention Grant Anderson, Julianna’s father, was an influential member of the community.

  “So, use that to your advantage. You’re a smart lad, you know what to do.”

  Charming the panties off women, that he could do, but trying to win a mate? He’d never even had a serious relationship before. “Why doesn’t she want to be my mate? Doesn’t she feel the pull of being True Mates like I do?”

  “It’s not that she doesn’t,” he said. “She’s your True Mate so she already feels that attraction to you. But she’s not been raised like you and doesn’t know how to listen to her wolf’s desires, the way we and our ancestors have been doing for hundreds of years. It was hard enough to tell your ma about me bein’ a Lycan, much less that she was the one that fate intended for me, and I was not going to have any other but her.”

  His mother, Kirsten, had been a human who was driving through Caelkirk when her car broke down. Callum happened to be passing by when he stopped to help her, and the rest, as they say, was history. But speaking of his mother … “Do you think we could not mention this to Ma yet?”

  Callum huffed. “Your uncle’s a wee clipe and is probably spreading the gossip to the whole clan. I doubt we’d be able to keep this from anyone, let alone your ma or the rest of the family.”

  He groaned. “All right then, how do I go about wooing my mate?”

  Chapter Three

  After what seemed like the longest and most uncomfortable tour she’d ever experienced in her whole life, Julianna was ready to lock herself up in her bedroom. No, scratch that. She wanted to take the next flight back to New York. Seeing as she hadn’t yet unpacked, it would be easy enough to grab her suitcase, hop into the car, and drive away from this loony bin.

  Because this was all crazy, right?

  The initial shock of seeing Rossi’s portrait hadn’t even worn off before that boorish mountain of a man had his hands all over her and proclaimed them to be True Mates.

  Insane.

  “Uh, so, the Lupa will have dinner ready at seven,” Gerald said as they re-entered the library after the two-hour tour of the house and grounds. “Kirsten will have a veritable feast prepared. We don’t often get guests here. But it’ll probably just be us family for now.”

  “Thank you, Gerald,” Reed said. “The tour was excellent.”

  “It’s an amazing place,” Elise added. “Right, Julianna?”

  Though the whole tour, Elise was doing her best to coax Julianna into the conversation, but she remained quiet, stewing and trying to avoid the curious looks Gerald had been giving her. “Yeah,” she croaked. “It’s a nice place.”

  “Glad you think so. I’ll be off then.” With a last nod, he left the library.

  The moment the door closed, Elise dashed to Julianna and tugged on her sleeve. “Julianna? Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

  She turned her head toward the other woman. “I’m … fine.”

  “You just met your True Mate,” Reed said. “You must be in shock. I sure as hell was when I recognized Elise.”

  Julianna shook her head. “It’s not true, right? You … your family … I know Bridget and Eleanor said …” Her thoughts were jumbled up. Was she even making sense?

  “I’m afraid it is true.” Reed placed a hand on her shoulder. “He’s a descendant of my mother’s family through Bridget and part of the Caelkirk clan, which means he did recognize you as his mate.”

  “But how?”

  “I can’t explain it, no one can.” Reed paused. “All I know is that one moment everything was fine and then I looked into Elise’s eyes, and the world was different.” Elise blushed and he smiled fondly. “My wolf called her my mate.”

  “It’s just …” She paced for a few seconds, then stopped. Looking up, she came face to face with her likeness again. That damned painting. “What are we going to do about this?”

  “Rossi’s painting?” Reed asked. “What about it?”

  “It’s evidence! What if anyone found out about us? Abou
t you?”

  He chuckled. “Julianna, how could anyone find out where I came from by looking at this painting? Besides, who would believe us anyway?” He raised a brow at her. “And don’t try to change the subject.”

  Fuck. “I’m not. I’m just worried about keeping the fabric of space and time from ripping apart.” No one could know about their time traveling experiences. It was too dangerous, and there was a risk that the mages would find out and try to use the dagger to travel back in time and change things.

  “Look, maybe we’re all just tired and jet lagged.” Elise covered her mouth as she let out a yawn. “How about we get some rest and then get ready for dinner?”

  Reed placed an arm around her protectively. “You must be exhausted, love. Let’s go find our room so we can get refreshed.” Turning to Julianna, his face turned soft. “Julianna, Duncan seems like a good chap. And you know, as your mate—”

  “He’s not my mate.”

  “I won’t try to convince you.” Reed let out an exasperated sound. “But I know that he would do anything to make you happy. And maybe … maybe after all you’ve gone through, you deserve some happiness.”

  Julianna remained silent and watched them as they left the library. Reed’s words had struck her. Deep. But happiness in a True Mate?

  “Ha.” Fat chance.

  Sure, she’d seen her parents and some of their family members seemingly jubilant with their mates. But she wasn’t her mother or Adrianna. No, she was far too independent, and she would never stand for it if a man tried to assert their dominance on her or acted like some possessive jerk.

  She shivered, thinking of the way Duncan looked at her. Cocky jerk. His bright green eyes seemed to want to own every part of her. Well, she’d be damned before she let that happen.

  The light outside was dying now, and the shadows seemed to subtly change the painting, staring down at her as if challenging her.

  “Don’t you think you know what’s good for me,” she said, pointing a finger at the painting. “I don’t—ugh!” Throwing her hands up, she stalked away from the painting, and headed out of the library. Why the heck was she arguing with canvas and paint? Maybe the insanity of this place was getting to her.

  “Damnit, Adrianna!” Julianna exclaimed as she tossed her open suitcase on its side, emptying the contents to the floor.

  Fashion and clothes weren’t her thing. Shopping was a chore and it only took her fifteen minutes to get ready in the morning. Usually, if she was going to the office, it was a dark colored skirt or pantsuit. If it was fieldwork, then she’d wear whatever she needed to blend in, like jeans or shorts. For formal occasions, she had a dozen black dresses from the same store. She could have sworn she packed at least two of them for this trip, but when she opened her suitcase, they were nowhere to be found. Instead, she found a sexy, low-cut red gown and a flirty blue-green cocktail dress. And heels. For fuck’s sake, she didn’t even own any shoes that were higher than an inch, and these were spiky black ones that made her look like some dominatrix.

  There were only two people back in Jersey who could have messed with her clothes and she had a hard time thinking it was Darius rooting around in her underwear drawer. So, it had to be Adrianna. Her sister was always telling her she had the body of a supermodel, and she should flaunt it more often.

  With a long sigh, she grabbed the blue-green dress, which was the lesser evil of the two. At least that one didn’t have a slit that came up to her navel. After putting the dress on, she slipped her feet into the shoes. She found herself wobbling for the first couple of steps, but surprisingly, found her stride. Huh, that wasn’t bad at all.

  With one last glance at the mirror, she headed outside. Mrs. Carter had called over the intercom to tell her that there would be drinks in the parlor thirty minutes before the dinner. She checked her watch as she descended the stairs. Damn. She was five minutes late and so she rushed down the hallway on the right. The parlor was at the end of the gallery, Mrs. Carter had said, past the armory.

  As she passed by a suit of armor guarding one door, she heard the sound of voices from the next room. Suddenly, she realized that she would not only have to face that oaf, but also the other people. Hopefully, no one had said anything about the mates thing or none of them believed it.

  Placing her hand over her chest, she felt for the gold disc pressed against her skin. Lucas was counting on her, she reminded herself. Forge the alliance. Then get the fuck out of this loony bin.

  As soon as she stepped inside the parlor, her eyes immediately were drawn to him. He was talking to his father and uncle, but it was like he sensed her presence the moment she walked into the room, as his head turned toward her. His sensuous mouth curled up into a grin and heat spread straight to her belly. Her wolf was rolling around, reveling in his attentions.

  That stupid ass. Why did he have to be so goddamn sexy? He oozed sensuality, his green eyes darkening as he inspected her from head to toe. Earlier today, she didn’t get a chance to just look at him as she was shocked and angry, but now, in the light of the chandelier, his hair looked more dark blond than the reddish blond she thought it was. That jacket he wore showed off his broad shoulders and tapered down to his trim waist and—holy hell, was he wearing a kilt?

  “She’s here!”

  “Who?”

  “Her! The American!”

  “The one who looks like Duncan’s painting?”

  “His True Mate!”

  Jesus. Motherloving. Christ. Surely it wasn’t too late to back out of the room. And to leave the country.

  A young woman rushed up to her and familiar green eyes looked at her expectantly. “Oh, she’s so pretty! Like your painting.” The owner of said eyes giggled, and for a second, Julianna thought Bridget was standing in front of her. However, she looked nothing like blonde and blue-eyed Bridget. No, this girl had wild red curls and green eyes, but the soft burr and laugh was the same. Her chest tightened, pressing into—

  “I’ve been dying to meet you. I’m Roslyn MacDougal.” She pulled Julianna into a hug. “I’m Duncan’s sister.”

  “She’s the baby.”

  Roslyn turned around. “I’m not a baby, Lachlan MacDougal! I’m sixteen—almost seventeen!”

  “Really? What about all that baby fat all over your—och!” The man exclaimed as Roslyn reached over and pinched his arm. “Christ, woman! Those pincers are gonna get you in trouble.” He turned to Julianna and smiled. “Well now, hello, lassie. Name’s Lachlan MacDougal.”

  She took the enormous man’s hand and shook it. Lachlan looked like a younger, brawnier version of Duncan. “Julianna Anderson.” She tried to take her hand back, but Lachlan’s grip was tight.

  “So, you’re Duncan’s mate? Hmmm … they said you look like the girl from the paintin’ but …” He moved closer until his face was inches away. “I’m not so sure. Is it your—”

  “What in the bloody hell is going on here?”

  Lachlan froze and turned his head but didn’t let go of Julianna’s hand. “Och, Duncan, I’m just trying to see if she’s really the same girl—hey!” He staggered back and released her hand as Duncan pulled him away by the shoulder. “Jaysus man, you didn’t have to pull that hard.”

  “Aren’t you a big-shot MMA fighter? Surely it wasn’t that painful?” Duncan’s eyes blazed. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’.”

  “’Cause you’d have done it yourself?” He ducked as Duncan swung at him. “Oi, stop! Stop!”

  Duncan turned to Julianna. “Sorry about my youngest brother, he was born that way.”

  “Duncan!” said another voice.

  “How about you introduce us to your mate?”

  “I’m not his—”

  Duncan rolled his eyes and stepped aside. “Julianna, these are my other brothers, Finlay and Fraser.”

  Julianna blinked. But she wasn’t seeing double. The two men standing next to Duncan were definitely twins. Both had the same red hair as Roslyn, though kept short,
and had blue eyes. “Julianna Anderson.” She held out her hand, but the twins didn’t make a move, looking at Duncan first who gave them a terse nod.

  “Nice to meet you, lass,” said Finlay—or was it Fraser?

  “I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay so far?” Strangely enough, the other twin had a posher accent.

  “Fraser’s a professor of history in Cambridge,” Duncan explained. “Finlay’s our VP of production at the distillery.”

  Perhaps that explained the difference in the way they spoke, and Julianna realized that when she shook their hands, one of them definitely had rougher, work-hewn hands while the other’s was smoother but callused at the thumb, like someone used to writing with a pen for hours.

  “Oh, Duncan, is this her?” A sweet voice said. “Introduce me!”

  Duncan’s expression warmed as he pulled up the older woman behind him. “This is my mother, Kirsten MacDougal, Lupa and Countess of Caelkirk. Ma, this is Julianna Anderson.”

  “How do you do, Lady Caelkirk?” Julianna said. “Thank you for inviting us into your—”

  The rest of her words were muffled as she found herself in another embrace. “We’re not formal here. Please call me Kirsten. And you’re my Duncan’s mate!” Her smile was so bright Julianna wanted to wince. “I don’t think you look like that painting at all.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Nay, you’re much more beautiful. And I can’t believe … oh, Duncan!” Kirsten had tears in her eyes.

  Callum walked up to them and put a hand around her shoulders. “I think I heard Mrs. Carter asking for you, my love. Somethin’ about the roast.” Before she could protest, her husband dragged her away.

  “You did this on purpose,” Julianna hissed at Duncan.

  “Did what?” he asked innocently.

  She huffed. “Tell everyone I was your True Mate.”

  “It’s true.”

  “It’s preposterous.”

  “Really? And how can you be sure I’m not telling the truth.” He leaned down closer to her until his face was inches from hers. “D’you wanna give it a test?”