Swallowing the bite in his mouth, Scotty bent his head to catch the drop of juice that dangled from her elbow. He then followed the rivulet upward, making her skin tingle as his tongue scraped over her sensitive flesh, licking away the juices.
Beth was holding her breath as he licked her arm and wrist, but when his tongue slid over and between her fingers, she moaned and let go of the peach.
Scotty caught the fruit as it fell and set it on the counter. Taking advantage of the fact that her hand was now empty, he sucked one finger into his mouth to the base, and then let it slide back out before taking up the next and repeating the exercise.
Beth had never experienced anything so erotic in her life. Her body was trembling, her breasts hard and sore, and her legs were trying to close to ease the ache there. Scotty was between her legs, however, preventing that, and seemingly of their own accord, her legs closed around him, pulling him forward against her.
She moaned around the bag of blood at her mouth as Scotty rubbed against her. Head dropping back, Beth let her eyes close, and then blinked them open and lowered her head with surprise when the blood bag was suddenly tugged from her mouth. It was empty, she saw as Scotty tossed it on the counter, and then his mouth covered hers, his tongue thrusting past her lips as he ground his groin against her.
Beth gasped and then tilted her head and clutched at his shoulders as she kissed him back. She felt him grab her breast, and groaned as he kneaded it, her legs tightening around his hips and her heels pushing him more firmly against her to increase the friction.
Growling into her mouth, Scotty released her breast and then tugged her T-shirt from her jeans and pushed it up above the bra she wore beneath. That was quickly tugged down so that he could claim one swollen nipple.
"Did you find any foo--Oh! Sorry."
Beth and Scotty broke apart at once and she peered blankly over his shoulder at Odilia, briefly confused as to who she even was. And that about summed up what Scotty's touch, his real live touch, did to her, Beth acknowledged. She forgot everyone and everything except for how he made her feel.
"Sorry," the woman repeated, flustered. "I was just hungry, but I'll . . ." Whirling away, she rushed back toward the seats and out of sight.
Scotty remained still after she left, his head turned toward where she'd been, and Beth forced herself to slow her breathing and take deep, calming breaths. Once her heart had stopped thundering and the aching in her body had eased, she withdrew her hands and unhooked her legs from around him and then quickly put her clothes back in order.
"We should join the others," she whispered, pressing on his chest with one hand to ease him back.
Scotty sighed and released her to comply, stepping away from her so that she could slide off the counter.
"Odilia is--"
"Your daughter," Beth finished for him as she turned and retrieved a tray she'd spotted in one of the cupboards. She then quickly began gathering items--a stack of plates, crackers, cheese, fruit, the bread sticks, dip, and even several bags of blood and half a dozen cans of soda.
"You took her in and cared for her after her family was slaughtered and she was turned. That was kind of you," she added.
"She was just a child," Scotty said solemnly. "She'd lost everything."
"She was lucky to have you save her." Beth picked up the tray. Turning, she faced him and added, "I was too. Even if you did want to wipe my mind."
Beth didn't wait for a response, but slid past him with the tray.
"Is anyone hungry or thirsty?" she asked brightly as she carried the snacks toward the chairs where the women were. Beth wasn't surprised when the men all immediately moved forward in the plane, eager to examine the offerings. She was quickly surrounded by both the men and women grabbing for various items, and felt sure she'd soon be returning to get more of everything, but then Scotty came from the kitchenette with a second tray stacked with food and blood.
"Set it on the table," he suggested quietly. "And make sure ye fill a plate yerself and take a bag of blood. It's been more than twenty-four hours since ye ate, and the one bag o' blood ye just had'll no' do ye."
Blushing, mostly because she was now thinking about why she hadn't eaten in more than twenty-four hours, Beth piled food on a plate before snatching a bag of blood and returning to her seat.
She glanced toward Odilia as she sat down, but the woman was sitting silent and still, her eyes closed. Wondering just how awkward this was going to make things between them, Beth sighed and set the blood aside for now to concentrate on the food. She did her best not to think about Scotty while she ate, but that was impossible. Her body was still humming from what he'd done to her, and really he hadn't done much. A kiss and a squeeze and she was as shaky as a virgin on her wedding night.
Closing her own eyes briefly, Beth pondered what it was he wanted from her. She knew he didn't want her. Well, he did, but only in a physical way. As far as she could tell, Scotty didn't want her for anything else, not as a mate, or he would have claimed her a century ago. So what were they doing? Was it a fling? An affair? And if so, how long was it supposed to last? Was this just a vacation thing for him? Over once he returned to England? Or were they just going to be eternal bed buddies, sleeping together every time they crossed paths over the next millennium or so, or until he came across another possible life mate who was perhaps more suitable?
Suddenly depressed, Beth opened her eyes and set her half-finished plate on the table. She then slapped the blood bag to her fangs and turned to stare out the window at the earth below. Everything looked so small from up here, she thought, and then smiled faintly and closed her eyes. Maybe this insurmountable problem fully occupying her mind, and seeming so large, was really just as small, a hiccup in her life. If so, wouldn't she feel foolish for wasting so much energy on it?
In truth, Beth supposed it was foolish either way. Whether the problem was large or small in her life, sitting here fretting about it wasn't going to solve anything. It wouldn't even change the situation. She couldn't change it. There was no way for her to make Scotty accept what she had done in her past, if that was why he wasn't claiming her. All she could do was change her present behavior, which meant she had a choice--either she accepted that he could not and would not claim her as a life mate because of her past, or she whined and cried about it.
The choice there was an easy one. Whining and crying never achieved anything. So she had to accept it. That being the case, she now had two more choices: enjoy the fling--or whatever this was she was having with Scotty--for as long as it lasted, or protect herself, and avoid him at all costs until he left Canada. He wasn't the only immortal out there. Surely there would be other possible life mates for her? She just might have to wait a millennium or two to find him.
"I would ask you what you are thinking, but since I can read your mind it is unnecessary," Magnus said lightly, drawing a scowl from Scotty.
"Ha ha," he muttered, not bothering to tear his gaze away from Beth to look at his friend. "Yer wit is staggerin', Magnus."
"I like to think so," his friend admitted, and then arched an eyebrow at him. "So what is it that Matias said to you back at the house to get your knickers in such a twist?"
Scotty glanced at him in surprise. "Ye ken Matias said something, but no' what he said?"
Magnus shrugged. "Your thoughts are mostly fretting over whether Matias was wrong or right, but not what about. So . . . what did he say?"
Scotty hesitated, but then admitted, "Matias thinks I wanted the three-on-one mind wipe performed on Beth because I can no' accept that she was a--her past."
"Hmm." Magnus nodded solemnly. "I see."
"Which is ridiculous. I suggested that because she was half-mad when we rescued her and suffering under the memories of what had been done to her. Wiping her mind seemed a kindness then."
"And now?" Magnus asked.
Scotty frowned, but admitted, "She's better now. As ye said in yer reports, she seems to have found a way to deal wit
h it."
"So, now you are glad you did not perform the mind wipe on her," Magnus suggested.
"Nay," he said at once, and then added, "She'd still be better off if it was done. It would be easier on her if she did no' have to carry around all those memories about what happened to her. She'd be much happier without them."
"Hmm."
"I do no' care that she--what she did."
"Hmm."
"That was over a hundred years ago. It has nothing to do with now," Scotty assured him.
"Hmm," Magnus repeated.
"Oh, stop with the hmms and say whatever 'tis ye have to say already," Scotty muttered, turning to look at Beth again. Whenever Magnus nodded and hmmed, he had an opinion he didn't think Scotty would like. Unfortunately, it was also something he usually needed to hear.
"I just find it interesting that you cannot seem to even bring yourself to give name to Beth's profession as a mortal."
"What?" he asked with surprise.
"You keep avoiding saying what Beth did," Magnus pointed out almost pityingly. "You keep using phrases like 'what she did' and 'her past,' neatly avoiding calling her a prostitute."
Glowering, Scotty turned back to look at Beth. She wore no makeup. Her skin was porcelain, with a light dusting of freckles across the nose. Her sweet, full lips were rosy despite a lack of lipstick, and when she blushed with embarrassment, or flushed with excitement, her cheeks also took on a rosy hue. She was petite, and she was beautiful, with the sweetest smile he'd ever seen. She did not look like a conniving, money-hungry whore.
"Feck," he muttered as that last thought ran through his head. He did have issues with her being a prostitute. All this time he'd been telling himself that he was waiting for her to heal. And he had been, he was quite sure, but so long as he'd been waiting for her to heal and hadn't been able to claim her, Scotty had been able to avoid dealing with the issue he had with her former profession.
"It is understandable that you would have issues with it," Magnus said as if he'd spoken aloud. "We come from an earlier era, one that forged our morals and opinions. We were taught prostitution was an abomination to our Lord God. Of course you would struggle with it," he said gently, and then added, "It is just a shame you were not admitting to yourself that this was a problem for you so that you could have dealt with it earlier."
When Scotty merely grunted and continued to frown unhappily, Magnus said, "I suggest you avoid her for the time being, at least until you can sort yourself out. If you can accept her along with her past, including her years in a brothel, then all is fine and well. However, if you cannot, then it would be kinder to leave her be and allow her to get on with her life. But you cannot have it both ways."
Scotty didn't respond except to tighten his lips. He didn't want to let Beth be. He wanted her in his life. He also wanted her in his bed, naked and moaning. He wanted to plunge himself into her over and over again until she forgot every last man she'd bedded over the years.
"You mean until you forget every man she may have had in her bed over the years," Magnus said quietly, still reading his mind. "Because that is the problem, is it not? Beth has already left that past behind. It is you now struggling with it."
Scotty closed his eyes. Magnus was right, of course. He was the one tormented by her past. He'd managed to ignore it and pretend it wasn't an issue all this time because she was so damaged and had needed to heal. But now she had healed. He could claim her . . . if he could just accept her past and get over it.
"I advise you not to confess your issues to Beth," Magnus said now. "She had a tough life as a mortal, and has worked hard to overcome it. I will not have you insulting or hurting her because of your own hang-ups."
"O' course I will no'," Scotty muttered. He had no desire to hurt her. This was his problem.
"You should not sleep with her either," Magnus added now, and when Scotty turned a surprised face his way, he pointed out, "Sleeping with her if you cannot ultimately bring yourself to claim her is cruel. And it would make you just as bad as the men in her past who used her for their own pleasure, or for profit."
Magnus left him then, and walked over to sit in the empty seat next to Beth. He didn't speak to her or disturb her rest in any way. He simply leaned back and closed his eyes. He was sending Scotty a message. Magnus was on Beth's side. At least in this.
Frowning, Scotty turned away from the seating area and walked back to rejoin Donny and Rickart. He didn't really enter into their conversation, but simply nodded and made the appropriate sounds at the appropriate times. In truth, his mind was on his own thoughts . . . and his feelings about what Beth had done as a mortal. Now that he was being forced to confront his feelings on the subject, he admitted that before meeting Beth he'd always thought prostitution to be the lowest of trades. He'd been raised to believe prostitutes were shameless, deceitful whores who cared only about coin . . . and he couldn't bear knowing that Beth had once been one.
And that, he acknowledged, was a serious problem.
Eleven
"What think you?"
The whispered question made Beth glance to Kira. She noted the woman's narrow-eyed gaze as she surveyed their surroundings, and then turned back to the barn in the clearing and commented, "It's pretty quiet."
Kira nodded. "Maybe they are sleeping, da?"
"Maybe," Beth allowed, but didn't move. Something didn't feel right about the place. It looked like it had been abandoned for a while, which wasn't what bothered her. Actually, that was the problem--she couldn't quite put her finger on what was bothering her.
"Is dump," Oksana, one of Kira's bodyguards, growled, not bothering to keep her voice down. "Is perfect place for the disgusting rogues. Let us catch this dyatel and leave here."
Beth didn't respond, except to smile slightly at the use of the word dyatel. Kira had explained it meant woodpecker, and was considered a terrible insult. It seemed calling a Russian any kind of an animal was insulting. Whether it was osyol which meant donkey, or kosyol which meant billy goat. Russians did not care for being likened to animals.
"Da," Nika, another bodyguard, agreed. "I do not like here."
Turning on the pair, Kira hissed angrily, "Shhh. Would you let them all know we are coming?"
Oksana quickly hid a resentful scowl, and presented an unconcerned face, but her voice was quieter when she said, "Is okay that they know. I am not afraid of some rogue."
"Perhaps not," Beth said in a low voice. "But if they hear us, they could escape before we can catch them."
Oksana shrugged. "Then we no catch them."
Beth closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. "I really should have insisted the four of you went for training."
"We are trained," Oksana growled. "In Russia. Think you Athanasios would make us protectors to Kira if we were not the most skilled warriors? I could beat you in battle with any weapon. I could kill you with--"
"Enough," Kira whispered furiously. "In future, you will keep shut the mouth, or I will send you back to Russia and tell Father you were unsatisfactory bodyguard."
Oksana shielded her expression quickly, but not before Beth saw the flash of fury there. The woman was eventually going to be trouble.
Releasing a small breath, Beth turned to survey the barn again. A tip had been called in to the local police that children had found an empty coffin here. Mortimer kept tabs on all calls to the police, just in case anything came up that was immortal-related. If something suspicious did crop up, he sent Enforcers to check out the claim, as well as to ensure the tip was forgotten by the police. Beth and Kira had got stuck with investigating this claim.
This job was what Beth would've categorized as a joke job, something trainees were normally sent on. Mostly because these missions were a waste of time. They included things like checking on immortals who hadn't been heard from for a while, and traveling to California to just make sure that one celebrity or another wasn't really an immortal in hiding because "they hadn't aged in years," or single solitar
y coffins found in old abandoned barns.
And why would a single coffin in a barn be considered a joke job? Because rogues tended to gather acolytes--new immortals they turned themselves and convinced to follow them. Which meant they would need many coffins. One by itself simply would not indicate the usual rogue's lair. In fact, on the way out here, Beth had been positive that this single coffin could have nothing to do with immortals. She had even come up with alternate possibilities for the existence of a coffin in an old abandoned barn. For instance, it could be that the former owners of this barn had stored the coffin here for their own future funeral, or . . .
Well, frankly, that was the only excuse Beth could think of for there to be a coffin in a barn, and even that seemed a piss-poor one. No one really bought their coffins ahead of time and stored them for the day they died, did they? Still, it had made more sense to her than that a rogue was living in an old abandoned barn. And she was quite sure it must've struck Mortimer the same way, or he wouldn't have sent her and Kira here.
This wasn't Beth's first case with Kira. Mortimer had been pairing her with the girl ever since they'd landed back in Toronto two weeks ago. Most of the cases he'd sent them on had been pathetic, easy checks of the more ridiculous tips. She quickly realized that Mortimer was trying to keep Kira away from anything dangerous. The problem was that it meant keeping Beth herself away from anything juicy too, and she was too good a hunter to want to spend her time on joke jobs. It was something she fully intended to complain about after they checked out this barn.
Beth understood that Mortimer wanted to keep Kira safe, but while she was coming to like the Russian girl, it was time someone else took over babysitting duty. Two weeks was punishment enough for talking the girl into coming to Toronto.
Two weeks, Beth thought suddenly. Had it really only been fourteen days since they'd returned from Vancouver? It felt like a lifetime to her. And not just because she'd been stuck on babysitting duty. Scotty had been avoiding her since their return. Beth hadn't seen him once during this whole time. Well, not in the flesh. He filled her dreams every night, making love to her in the forest-green bedroom, in the garage in Vancouver, on her kitchen table, in the elevator of her apartment building, in the blue room at the Enforcer house, in the pale yellow room at the Enforcer house, on the beach, in a movie theater, in the bathroom of a nightclub, and, last night, in the cooking section of a bookstore.