Another wave of goose bumps prickled her arms as if he’d reached out to caress her. “It was a long time ago. I’m over it.”

  “Are you?”

  No. For the entire twenty-three years of her life, she’d felt like she was alone in the world without any friends. Alone in a world where she didn’t fit.

  So how old was Dougal? Did he have centuries of pain that he carried around on those broad shoulders? I’ve waited so long for you. Did he crave a comforting touch as much as she did?

  Her so-called friends in college had wanted her for the free tutoring. Her parents had wanted her as living proof of their own intellectual superiority. Even Dr. Lee and the other Vamps here wanted her for her expertise.

  But Dougal was surprisingly different. He looked at her like she was the most desirable woman on the planet. And even more surprising, she reacted like a woman. Heart pounding, breathless, and nerve endings tingling all over. She wanted to know everything about him. And God help her, she wanted to touch him.

  She shook herself mentally. He was a vampire, a volcanically inclined Vamp with a fiery dragon tattooed on his chest. She couldn’t let herself get involved with him. Her carefully mapped-out life would go up in flames.

  “I’m fine.” She stood, pushing back her chair. “And I’m going back to work.”

  Dougal groaned inwardly. His one joke had been lame, and his attempt at being charming had chased her away. How could he manage to be alone with her? What would impress her? His thoughts returned to the movie she’d watched earlier. Of course. He knew exactly what to do.

  He cleared his throat. “Gregori, instead of giving Leah a ride home from work, would ye mind if I teleport her?”

  Gregori’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose that’s all right.”

  “And can ye give me the phone number for the guy at DVN?”

  “Wilson?” Gregori stood. “Excuse me a minute, okay?” he said, patting his wife on the shoulder.

  She nodded, her mouth full.

  Gregori motioned for Dougal to join him over by the window. “You want a makeover? Why?”

  Dougal shrugged. “Ye said I looked like a pirate.”

  “That never bothered you before.” Gregori frowned at him. “You were staring at Leah like a half-starved animal.”

  Dougal winced. Was he that obvious?

  “You don’t deny it.” Gregori sighed. “You realize Laszlo has a crush on her?”

  “Aye.”

  “But you’re still going to pursue her?”

  “Aye.” When Gregori continued to frown at him, Dougal added, “As far as I can tell, she’s no’ interested in either of us.”

  “Her heartbeat shot off like a rocket the minute you stepped into the room.”

  Dougal nodded. “I know. I frighten her.”

  “Maybe.” Gregori gave him a speculative look. “But not the way you think.” Without explaining further, he walked back to Abby. “Sweetheart, do you have time to examine Dougal’s hand?”

  “Sure.” She dipped a French fry into a dollop of ketchup. “As soon as I’m done here.”

  An hour later Dougal sat in Abby’s office as she studied the results of the ultrasound and X-ray of his hand. He’d asked Gregori to explain his cryptic remark, but Gregori had simply passed him Wilson’s phone number and said, “Let the best man win.”

  Dougal frowned. The best man was most likely Laszlo. Intellectually, he was a better match for Leah. And he didn’t have the checkered past that Dougal had. Most probably, Laszlo had never been kidnapped or forced to work as a slave or a pirate. He’d probably never failed someone he loved. Or buried her.

  “Everything looks fine.” Abby set the X-ray down and handed him a hand exerciser with black rubber grips. “The sensors in this will measure the strength of your grip. Give it a tiny squeeze.”

  He did, and on Abby’s computer screen, a red light went up an inch on a bar graph.

  “Okay, that was within the normal range for a mortal.” She wrote it down in her notes. “Try again, a little harder.”

  He flexed his hand tighter, and the red light traveled halfway up the bar.

  “It seems to be working perfectly.” She gave him a curious look. “Why do you think it malfunctioned last night?”

  “I think the fault was mine,” Dougal confessed.

  “I don’t see how. Your mind is controlling it perfectly now. Why would it go awry all of a sudden?”

  He recalled the moment his hand had shattered the bottle. He’d been watching Leah on the monitor. Was she the reason he’d lost control? His hand flinched, and the red light shot nearly to the top of the bar.

  “Whoa, careful there.” Abby cast him a worried look. “Did you do that on purpose?”

  He hesitated, then shook his head.

  Abby frowned. “So there is a problem. Can you remember when it first started?”

  He shifted in his chair. “Last night.”

  “What happened last night?”

  He shrugged. “I got promoted.”

  “That must have made you happy.” Abby tapped her pen on the desk as she considered. “I wonder if your emotional state is influencing your mind control.”

  “It shouldna.” He winced. “But I doona know how else to explain it.”

  “Did something upset you last night?” Abby’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Could it be that you’re so old you hate birthday parties?”

  A knock on the door sounded.

  “Abby?” Leah cracked the door open.

  Dougal’s hand clenched, snapping the metal spring in two. The red light shot to the top of the bar and beeped.

  Abby gasped.

  He dropped the hand exerciser, and the beeping stopped.

  Abby stared at him, agape.

  “Is something wrong?” Leah eased into the room, giving him a wary look.

  “Nay.” Dougal stood. “I’m done here.”

  Leah turned to Abby. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I wanted to get your opinion on something.”

  Abby was staring wide-eyed at the monitor, then her gaze shifted to the broken hand exerciser, then to Dougal. “Did you do that on purpose?”

  “Sure,” he lied. There was no way he was going to admit that he only lost control when Leah was in the vicinity. Especially when she was standing in the same room.

  Abby’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  Damn. She was going to figure it out. “I should get back to work now.” He headed toward the door, then paused close to Leah. “What time did ye want to quit working tonight?”

  Leah shrugged. “About one thirty. Why?”

  “I’ll be taking you home then.”

  Her eyes widened. Before she could object, he rushed back to the security office.

  He had plans to make. Leah didn’t realize it, but she was taking a little trip with him tonight.

  Chapter Nine

  “Are ye ready to go?”

  Leah’s heart leaped in her chest at the sound of Dougal’s voice. She looked up from her microscope and spotted him at the door, watching her intently with his emerald green eyes. Why was he holding a blanket?

  “ ’Tis one thirty in the morning,” he added.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. She’d been so busy that she’d lost track of time. But her back and shoulders ached from sitting on a stool, hunched over her work.

  She glanced at Abby, who sat beside her at the lab table. “Do you mind if I leave?”

  “Of course not. I’ll be leaving soon, too. Gregori should be here any minute now.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Laszlo smiled at her from across the room. “I’m used to working all night long.”

  Leah stood, picking her handbag off the floor. Dougal had stepped into the room. For a large man, he could move very quietly. “Are you driving me back?”

  “Nay.”

  Her heart stilled. “If you’re planning on teleporting me, I’m not comfortable with that.”

  “I know, but it is some
thing ye should accustom yerself to. Now that ye’re working with us, there will be times when ye’ll need to teleport with us.”

  “I can take a cab.”

  “Across the world? Ye need to learn how to travel with us. ’Tis a business matter.”

  She supposed he was making a valid point, but still . . . She leaned close to Abby and whispered, “Is it safe?”

  “Yes,” Abby whispered back. “And he can hear us.”

  She straightened with an annoyed huff. He didn’t need to look so amused. “Why do you have a blanket with you?”

  “ ’Tis no’ a blanket, but my tartan.” He draped it over one of his broad shoulders. The plaid design matched his kilt. “It could be a bit chilly where we’re going.”

  “I thought we were going to the townhouse.”

  “Eventually. We’ll make a short stop on the way.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Did you find a new underground lair?”

  “Nay.” His mouth twitched. “We will definitely be aboveground.” He extended a hand toward her. “Ready?”

  She eased toward him, frowning. “You’re not planning to invade my mind?”

  “Nay. I know exactly where we’re going. I did a test run a few minutes ago.”

  Now he was making her curious. She hitched her handbag onto her shoulder. “Where are we going?”

  “ ’Tis a surprise.” He took hold of her arm and drew her into the hallway.

  Her heart lurched. Damn. With his superhearing, he could probably tell that her heart was racing.

  “Ye need to hold on to me,” Dougal said quietly.

  Her gaze met his and froze. He was so close. She could see little specks of gold in his green eyes.

  He gripped her around the waist and pulled her against him. “Hold me,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

  Her heart thundered in her ears. Did she dare trust him? Tentatively, she rested her hands on his broad chest.

  “Ready?”

  To teleport? Panic shot through her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Everything went black. Then in a flash, she was surrounded by color and light. She stumbled, looking about, and he steadied her.

  Her eyes focused on the graffiti-covered metal wall close to her face. For a good time, call Lorenzo?

  “We’re in a bathroom stall?” She glanced at the toilet. “This is where you wanted to take me?”

  Dougal smiled. “It was the safest place to arrive. I locked this door from the inside about five minutes ago.” He opened the stall door and led her into the restroom.

  A woman gasped as they walked by.

  The ladies’ room? Leah winced as they hurried to the exit.

  “Where are we?” she whispered as Dougal led her through a glass door.

  Immediately, a cold wind whipped at her.

  She gasped, barely aware that he was wrapping the tartan around her shoulders. A starry sky was overhead, and before her, the bright lights of New York City stretched for miles in every direction.

  “The Empire State Building?” She ran toward the barricade, then glanced back at Dougal, grinning. “This is so awesome!”

  He smiled back. “Ye like it?”

  “Yes!” It was cold and windy, but she didn’t care. She huddled beneath his tartan and looked out at the city. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

  “Ye’ve never been here before?”

  “No.” She skirted the wall, gazing out at the sea of lights. “How far up are we?”

  “Eighty-six floors.” He followed her.

  She snorted. Definitely not an underground lair. “I didn’t know they were open this late.”

  “Till two.”

  She spun around, grinning. “It’s just like the movies. We practically have it to ourselves.”

  “Aye.”

  She continued to circle the observation deck, then stopped to look at the Chrysler Building. “This is great, Dougal. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Leah.”

  She couldn’t recall him saying her first name before. It made her heart flutter, and she tightened the tartan shawl around her shoulders. The heat of a blush warmed her cheeks, but hopefully it would look like a result of the crisp wind. “I-I’m grateful. But I meant what I said earlier. We shouldn’t date.”

  He nodded, gazing into the distance. “This is business. So ye’ll learn to trust us.”

  “Right.” She winced inwardly. Were they both in denial? But as long as she didn’t confess to being attracted to him, she could pretend it wasn’t true.

  She glanced at him, quickly admiring his profile, before looking away. “How old are you?”

  “I was born in 1721. Transformed at the Battle of Culloden in ’46.”

  “So you became a vampire when you were twenty-five?”

  “Aye.”

  “So young.”

  He turned to her, his eyes glittering with humor. “I havena been called young in a long time. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “So young.”

  She lifted her chin. “Old enough.”

  “Aye.” He brushed back a strand of hair that blew across her face.

  She turned away and wandered over to one of the binoculars. Dougal retrieved a few quarters from his sporran and inserted them in the machine.

  “Thank you.” She peered through the binoculars, too tense to know what she was looking at. She could feel his presence close by. He made her heart race, and yet he was solid in a steady, comforting way. Dependable and exciting at the same time.

  She moved closer to the barricade. “How does a person become a vampire?”

  “A vampire drains you dry, then ye go into a coma until he feeds his blood back to you. Then ye wake up with a powerful hunger. For blood.”

  She shuddered. “I can’t imagine having to live on nothing but blood.”

  “It can be verra tasty.” He leaned close. “Can ye spare a pint?”

  “No.” She glared at him when he smiled. “Not funny.”

  He sighed. “According to Gregori, I’m supposed to make ye laugh.”

  “So I’ll learn to trust you?”

  “So I can win yer heart.”

  She swallowed hard. “We’re not dating.”

  “Aye, I know.”

  The wind whipped her hair across her face, and she pushed it back. “Don’t your knees get cold?”

  “Nay.”

  The wind blew her hair in her face again, and she shoved it back.

  “Here.” He pulled the leather tie from his hair and stepped behind her.

  “You don’t need to—” She paused at the feel of his hands on her neck, gathering up her hair. When he finished tying the strip, she turned to face him.

  The wind blew some strands of his long black hair across his face, and they caught on the whiskers along his jaw.

  “Silly man. Now you’re having trouble.” She brushed his hair back, her fingertips lingering on his cheek. Her gaze met his, and the fierce yearning in his eyes took her breath away.

  She spun to face the city lights. We’re not dating. I’m not falling for him. “How did you know I wanted to see this place?”

  He moved to stand beside her. “Fidelia mentioned ye were watching a movie. After I investigated it, I suspected ye would enjoy this.”

  “You investigated An Affair to Remember?”

  “Aye. ’Tis what I do. I work for MacKay Security and Investigation.” He glanced at her. “Tell me about yerself.”

  Her mouth twitched. “Are you investigating me now?”

  He smiled. “Aye. I want to know all about you.”

  “Why?”

  He tilted his head while he considered. “Because ye’re you. From the moment I first saw you, I felt drawn to you.”

  She shivered under his tartan blanket. “You first saw me on a security camera.”

  “Aye.” His brows drew together in a frown. “ ’Twas difficult to watch. I wanted to teleport you away from the pain. My of
fer still stands, ye ken. If at any time ye want to leave, just let me know.”

  She nodded slowly. “I appreciate that.” Just knowing that he was on her side made her feel all squishy and warm. He would be absolutely perfect if he wasn’t a vampire.

  “What do ye like to do when ye’re no’ working?”

  She shrugged. “I hardly know. It seems like I’ve spent my whole life studying. But I enjoy my work. I like helping people, even if I’m not very comfortable around them.”

  “It must have been hard for you to start college so young.”

  She nodded. “I was ready academically, but not socially. I was homeschooled by my parents. They’re both professors. I have two brothers, but they’re older than me. And they each started college at the age of thirteen, so I never got to know them very well.”

  “Ye were lonely.”

  Her eyes burned with resentment and unshed tears. How could her parents be so brilliant and never realize that sometimes a young child didn’t need another book or another assignment? Sometimes she just needed a damned hug.

  Grandpa had understood. A wave of grief swept over her. “I had a grandfather in Ireland. He used to wear a kilt and play the pipes.”

  “He’s gone now?”

  She nodded, blinking away tears. “I miss him.”

  “ ’Tis sorry I am that I dinna meet him.”

  “Abby told me you’re a musician?”

  He glanced down at his prosthetic hand. “I used to be.”

  Did he lose his music when he lost his hand? That had to hurt something awful. “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded. “Now I’m known throughout the vampire world as the guy who lost a hand. My friends try to make it sound swell by calling me the Bionic Man or the Terminator.”

  She winced. After years of being called Dr. Freakazoid, she knew how it felt to be singled out for a certain trait that made her different from others.

  He sighed. “I shouldna have told you that. I doona want to sound like I’m complaining.”

  “Why not? Maybe you should tell your friends—”

  “Nay! I would sound like a whiny, wee bairn. I should take it like a man.”

  She bit her lip to keep from smiling. Apparently the male ego survived after death.

  The wind blew the hem of his kilt up a few inches, revealing strong, muscular thighs. Wincing, he pushed it down.