His Midnight Star
Cover Design by Arial Burns
Author’s Bear Logo by Farah Evers Designs
Created with Vellum
Gobs of love for my beta reader, Cathy Bowen Connell, and all her enthusiasm for my work. She’s even nicknamed her beloved husband “Bear.” Bless him, he reads my books, too.
A huge hug to my critique partners on this venture. Candice Hopkins, who saw me all the way through both rewrites, and AJ Nuest and Mackenzie Crowne who made sure I was on the right path at the beginning. I do have a tendency to go a little off the wall at times.
Most importantly, dedicated to all the fantastic readers who have loved my bear shifter books. Rest assured, more will be coming. Effie says so.
Chapter 1
Did ye come to Scotland fer business or pleasure? ” The man in the seat next to Star Delaney had kept their conversation going since they’d taken off from Edinburgh in this tin can of an airplane. Although there was supposed to be a small aisle between their seats, his broad shoulders obliterated most of it.
Not that she minded. Dark-haired, muscled Gunner McDunn was one handsome Scot—kilt and all. Although she couldn’t quite understand why he wasn’t wearing pants in cold weather like this. Christmas was just days away.
“Business, I’m afraid. My boss scheduled meetings with potential investors for expansion of his company. I’ve met with two in London, one in Edinburgh, and the couple I was to meet in Mathe Bay traveled to Wick, at the last minute, to visit old friends. Dr. Matheson and his wife invited me to join them for Christmas since they’d changed plans on me.”
Gunner nodded and a pleasant scent of pine and sunshine floated her way. “Count on Scots to be hospitable. If they want to see ye, that is.”
“His wife, Effie, insisted on it. She’s American, too, and wanted to show me how Christmas is celebrated in Scotland.” Star was still surprised at how easily she’d acquiesced to the eccentric pull of Effie Matheson’s pleading. There were strange magnetic powers to her often flighty ramblings about Star’s arriving on winter solstice.
That’s what Star’s twin sister would have claimed. Moonbeam, or Moonie, was more mystical than she was and Star wouldn’t change her for the world. Her sister was the stronger of the two. The sweetest in Star’s opinion. The one more in tune with the Universe.
Like, why people placed such relevance on a shortened cold day? Her mother had, when she was living, as a way of honoring her Scottish mother. Personally, Star never got it.
Even so, she could hardly refuse Effie’s charming invitation. Not when she wanted their money. Imploring strangers for investments was not how she’d foreseen her career.
Yes, Mr. BJ Goode needed investors. For sure, face-to-face meetings were often how it was done. Although she’d sooner have given her presentation over Skype or in a webcam conference. But sneaky BJ dangled a carrot in front of her. One he knew would lead her to board the plane in Atlanta to start this mad dash through the UK—a promotion to Chief Financial Officer. All she had to do was bring several committed donors to him before year’s end.
“So yer boss is paying a pretty penny fer yer travel expenses to raise money?” Gunner’s one dark eyebrow arched in question, or confusion.
“Well, no.” She was racking up charges on her Visa® like mad. BJ had promised to pay her back as soon as she delivered her assignment on time. That’s why she was making this trip, running from one airplane to another, meeting investors in unknown lands, and presenting their business plan—well, hers since she’d been the one to put it together.
“Nae? Dinna tell me he’s making ye pay.” He pulled his massive shoulders back in indignation.
“For now, yes. He’ll reimburse me. If he doesn’t, I’ll punch BJ Goode in the throat.” When the Scot’s eyebrows rose to meet his hairline, she laughed. “Well, maybe not. I made him sign an agreement and had it notarized. I have to deliver everything to him before New Year’s Eve. That’s nine days away, so you can see why I’m eager to wrap up this trip.”
Her traveling companion stared at her, scowling.
She fiddled with the sleeves of her sweater, pulling them over her cold hands. “If I seem high strung, it’s this tight timeframe I’m on for collecting investment commitments. It has me on edge.”
Gunner leaned into her space a little more. “Aye? What else has ye chewing on the corner of yer lip like that?”
“Life’s problems.” She shrugged. “We all have them. Right?” She wasn’t sharing her physical condition with a perfect stranger, no matter how nice he seemed.
“Aye. As Shakespeare said, ‘When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.’ Some sorrows or problems are easily fixed, some are beyond our control.”
To her surprise, Gunner took her hand. Sensual heat skittered up her arm and, not knowing which direction to head, decided south sounded nice. Her girly bits welcomed the warmth. Oh Lord, four months without a man must be getting to her. Though she had to admit Keith, her former boyfriend, had never elicited such a strong reaction like this handsome Scot.
Must be the thin air in this flying bumblebee of an airplane.
“Och, I imagine a bonny lass like yerself also has a special man waiting fer her return home.” He released her hand and shifted in his narrow seat, a slight blush crept up his neck.
What a thoughtful thing for him to say. “I’m not dating anyone right now. Men don’t seem to hang around me for long. I scare the off, I guess. I’ve been told I’m high emotional maintenance.” Her own father had abandoned her and Moonie a week before they’d turned thirteen. Then Jefferson and Shane in college and grad school. Now Keith.
Her gaze roamed over Gunner’s strong features. A piercing wrapped around the end of one dark eyebrow silently spoke of rebelliousness. His beard and mustache were closely cropped. Unruly, wavy, espresso-colored hair reached below his shoulders adding an element of danger to his appearance.
Gunner McDunn had a face she could stare at for hours. Of course, she shouldn’t. But there was no harm in looking at the stranger, was there? They’d never see each other again once this plane landed.
“Tell me, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a geck or what ye Americans call a geek. I’m an astronomer, ye see. I work fer the Royal Astronomers Society.” He took a deep breath and uncurled his fingers. “Except fer the next month while I’m taking me Christmas holiday. A much needed time of relaxation. I miss the Highlands and her mountains. Me spirit needs to run free.”
God, she loved how he rolled his r’s with his Scottish burr. She could listen to him talk all day. There was nothing nerdy about his appearance. Instead, there was a wildness, a strength, and dominance. A sexy mixture any hot-blooded woman would be drawn to, even one still nursing a broken heart. Damn that lying, cheating Keith.
“Are you originally from Edinburgh?”
“Nae, I’m from an area six miles west of Wick. Loch Saoesa, or lake as ye Americans would say. Saoesa is Gaelic fer freedom.” He pronounced the Gaelic word as ‘Sho-sha.’ “ʼTis a great place fer fishing and star gazing. Not many people live there, but those who do love it. Even though the winters are colder than a witch’s teat.”
He leaned to look out his window. “Snow is coming. See those altostratus clouds? They’re heavy with moisture. Hope ye packed yer heavy boots.”
“Just the hiking boots I’m wearing.” Star automatically wiggled her toes in them and hoped they’d be adequate.
The aircraft shuddered and plunged enough to make her stomach fall. She grabbed for Gunner’s bicep, her long braid flying over her shoulder.
“Dinna be feart, Star. ʼTis merely a wind pocket. Common in small valleys between mountain ridges.” He patted her hand in a comforting manner and she relished the security of his touch.
“I’m not used to small planes like this.” The four-seater aircraft looked like it was held together with chewing gum and duct tape. They were the only passengers on this
flight to Wick Airport. From her research, Wick was the northernmost city on Scotland’s mainland.
Gunner was muttering. Maybe he was a little “feart,” too. “Nae. Nae dinna start that feckin’ shite.” He shook his head. “Havena I got enough on me plate without yer hairy arse adding a bonnie lass, too?” When he glanced at her, his dark brown eyes blazed golden like a monster in a Grade B movie.
What. The. Hell? She slowly inched her hand away from his arm and sat ramrod straight in her seat. The man was a few bubbles shy of a bubble bath—good looking, or not. He’d seemed fine earlier. Friendly, interesting, quick to laugh. Now he was talking to himself as if he had a split personality. And his freaky glowing eyes…what was that about?
“Got a problem,” Angus the pilot yelled as he flipped switches.“Engine fire.” He issued a mayday and their coordinates to someone on the ground … somewhere. “Bloody hell! Get to the rear storage and grab yer parachutes. I’ve got mine up here with me. Give the lass some quick instructions. Yer experienced enough at this, Gunner. Ye two jump first while I try to find a place to land this feckin’ thing once I get it over this mountain.”
“Aye, Angus.” Gunner stood as best he could, given the low overhead clearance, grabbed his jacket, and strode to the back storage area. “Get yer coat and follow me,” he ordered her. “We’ll get our luggage.”
She almost didn’t hear him the way her heart thundered in her ears. Forcing her body to move when her muscles were frozen with fear was no easy feat either.
The plane’s on fire? Holy hell, the freaking plane is on fire!
When she propelled herself out of the seat, the plane dipped again and she yelped.
“Time to remain calm, ye ken? We’re going to have to bail out.”
“Bail? You mean jump? I’ve never jumped from a plane before! I don’t know how.” Her throat, suddenly devoid of moisture, squeaked out the words.
If only she’d taken sky-diving lessons instead of pole dancing classes. She grabbed her luggage and laptop case. Could she hold onto them as she plummeted to earth in a frantic leap?
Dive! She was going to dive into mountains! Hell, she was too chicken to dive into a swimming pool. She didn’t know which shook more, the airplane or her.
I feel your fear, Star. Be strong. Hang onto my strength. Moonie and Star could always sense each other’s strong emotions. They had this weird unspoken connection. Some called it ESP; others claimed such a thing didn’t exist. Star and Moonie knew differently.
Star stood in front of the kilted Scot and tried her best to comprehend his directions.
“Relax. I’ll give ye a crash course.” Gunner winced. “Pardon me pun. I sky dived a lot in university. I ken what to do.” He had a thick backpack and a computer case of his own. With sure movements, he slipped on the knapsack and hooked his briefcase onto a large snap of the parachute before attaching it to his body.
“Once ye clear the airplane, we willna be able ta communicate. The wind will blow our words away. So pay close attention to me instructions.” His spoke rapid and confidently.
“As ye fall, count like this: one and two and three and…until ye get ta ten. Then pull on the cord.” He snatched a rope from the pilot’s neatly organized cabinet. He kept giving her instructions as he tied her suitcase to her back, looping the heavy cord around her and between her legs before making a huge knot. He buckled her into a chute and clipped her laptop case to it.
He grabbed her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “Wherever ye land, stay there. I will find ye. Listen ta me now. If I’m hurt, which shouldna happen…but, if it does, I’ll have ta shift.”
“Shift?” She swallowed. “Shift what?”
“Me. From a human ta a bear.”
Good Lord, the man was insane.
He tugged on her rigging as if he was making sure it was all connected properly. “Ye might run into other bears. If ye do, ask them if they like opera.”
Opera? For fuck’s sake! She was jumping out of a burning plane with a total whack job!
“If the bear covers his ears with his paws and roars, ′tis me. Dinna be feart. I willna harm ye.”
She tugged on her gloves and reached in her coat pocket for her toboggan hat. It would help keep her braid from whipping across her face.
“Hurry up! I canna keep control of the plane much longer. I’ve got me ʼchute on. Let’s make like a tree and fookin’ leave.” Angus’s order jarred her from a surreal numbness. Her heart skipped a beat or four at the pilot’s order. How far up were they? Where were they?
“Aye, Angus. We’re ready.” In a rush, Gunner snatched goggles from the cabinet, jerked a pair over her head, and snapped a pair over his eyes. Hers didn’t feel right. They hurt her nose. “Watch me, lassie. I’ll give ye hand signals.” He unlatched the door and shoved her out.
“You bastaaaaaard!” She free-fell through the coldest weather she’d ever been in. Wind stung her cheeks. Her nose dried out. She held her breath so she wouldn’t need to breathe in the frigid air, but that only lasted for a minute. Trembling all over, she sped toward earth. Gunner had no right to just push her out like that. If she survived the landing and got her hands around his freaking neck…
Count, dummy! One and two and three and…
She looked up to check on Gunner’s location and lost count. His navy and dark green kilt was blown up around his chest and he wore nothing underneath. Holy hell, his cock resembled a turkey baster with a nice sized bulb on the end. And Lord, she’d never be able to eat avocadoes again. Although his were purple not green.
Had to be the goggles. They must have magnifying glass in them. She glanced at the stream, trees, and hills she was quickly approaching. They didn’t appear too big. Okay, so now that her eyes had time to adjust to the safety glasses, if she took another look, he’d probably be hung normally. As air whooshed by, she glanced up at him again.
Holy turnip in an elephant’s trunk. Could that thing even be real? These goggles must be distorting her vision somehow. No man could be that big. It had to be her imagination. Just her luck, she was about to scatter her body parts over the rocky side of a mountain or be impaled onto huge pine trees and her last sight would be a colossal cock flapping in the wind.
Gunner waved his hand in some kind of signal and then opened his red parachute. She did the same with her yellow one. He gave her the okay sign and did a few revolutions until he was next to her. Now his penis appeared more normal. Kinda. Sort of.
As the earth flew toward them, her heart scrambled its way up her throat. I’m going to die! I’m going to freaking die!
Gunner pointed to a clearing near a stream and then to her and him as if that’s where they were to land. He also did some weird hand signals which made no sense to her. Wind gusts blew them this way and that. Star soared toward the rocky stream. If she could scream, she would have. But who could hear her? She was parachuting into no man’s land with a guy who thought he was half bear. No wonder he was taking time off from work. Nutso needed several mental health days. She didn’t think a month would be long enough for him to get a grasp on normalcy.
The last she saw his red parachute, it was soaring toward a large group of pines. Land and rocks flew up to seize her, or so it seemed. Every bone in her body jarred when she smacked the ground. Pain seared through her ankle and up her leg. As she bounced and flipped over the rocky ground, she lost those blasted goggles and her cap.
Rolling over her suitcase time after time hurt like hell. Her head knocked against a rock and darkness took her.
When her eyes opened, things were fuzzy and spinning. To stop the nausea, she snapped her eyes shut again. Once her stomach stopped churning, she took mental inventory of her body. She could wiggle her toes and ankles, although movement made pain in her left ankle twinge. The muscles in her back ached a little, but she could move her arms okay. Her head, though, hurt like crazy. Warm liquid ran down the side of her chilly face.
Cold seeped into her and she slowly opened h
er eyes again. A few blinks and things came into focus. She lay near a stony creek, breathed in the pine-filled air, and listened to the gurgling waters. Slowly, she sat up. Blood stained the stone where she’d hit. Her gloved hand went to a thumping spot above her temple and returned covered in blood.
A red squirrel ran down a tree, or was it up? Every so often, the world spun faster than her eyes could handle. She was confused by what she’d just been through. Where was she? Surely her wits would soon return.
She shifted to a more comfortable position and rested her head on fallen leaves. A few minutes of rest and stillness might help her feel better.
Off in the distance, an airplane crashed against a granite mountainside. She raised to her elbows as flames shot skyward. A horrified gasp escaped her chapped lips; tears flooded her eyes, freezing as they trailed down her face. Had Angus survived? He said he was prepared to jump. She prayed the crusty old man reached earth safely before the burning plane collided with the immovable force of all that rock.
Once she unfastened her computer from the parachute, she gathered the yellow nylon mass. She cursed Gunner as she worked to untie the intricate knot he’d put in the rope to hold her luggage to her. “What kind of knot did this whacko job tie? A shifter knot?” She bet if she and Gunner ever had the chance to compare movies, they’d both seen the same paranormal flicks. Only she knew it was all make believe; evidently he’d taken them to heart. “Bear shifter, my ass,” she grumbled as she fought with the knot.
For just a minute, she stilled as a strange commonality struck her. He thinks he can change species and she could sense her twin’s thoughts—almost as if she could hear her. Many people would say Gunner and she were both teetering on the edge of sanity. She sniffed at the absurdity of the comparison. A man changing into a bear is a hellofa lot different than the strong bond she had with Moonie. After all, they’d shared the secrets of the womb.
20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection Page 183