All I Want for Christmas is a Vampire

CHAPTER 4

Ian had forgotten how pretty she was—pretty enough to scramble his thoughts for a second. But it didn't matter how shiny and golden her hair was, or how pink and sweetly curved her mouth was. Or how her green jumper matched the bonnie green of her eyes. Any guard who wrote graffiti on a sleeping Vamp was not a guard who could be trusted.

Phineas took one look at him and spewed his breakfast all over the kitchen counter. Then he started snickering. Dougal, at least, was attempting to stifle his laughter.

"Eeeuww." Toni grimaced at the bloody mess.

"Don't worry, sweetness. I'll clean it up." Phineas grabbed a sponge from the kitchen sink. "You got him good."

"I wouldna call this good." Ian glowered at Toni. She hadn't answered his question. She just sat at the table, fiddling with a paper napkin, while a pink blush swept up to her cheeks. The scent of her rushing blood ignited his hunger. His gums tingled. His stomach twinged. He stalked to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of synthetic blood, and guzzled it down cold.

She wrinkled her pretty little nose. "You're drinking it cold?"

"Are ye offering me some that's hot?" he growled.

Her cheeks grew a brighter red. "No, of course not."

"Why so pissed, bro?" Phineas wiped up the counter. "I'd be happy if Toni wrote on my shirt. Shit, she could write on me all day long."

"You don't wear a shirt to bed," Toni muttered.

"Aha!" Phineas grinned at her. "You've been admiring my awesome bod while I sleep. I knew it. The ladies can't resist Dr. Phang." He rinsed out his sponge, then went back to work. "You should be writing your love notes on me."

"They're not love notes," Toni protested.

"That's for certain," Ian grumbled. "I'm definitely no' interested in Travis."

Phineas snorted, then took aim and tossed the sponge into the sink. "Two points! Look, I've been telling you guys to stop wearing those skirts. It gives out mixed signals, if you know what I mean."

Dougal frowned. "The kilt is a fine and manly tradition amongst the Scots."

"I kinda like 'em," Toni conceded.

Did she really like his kilt? Ian had always considered the MacPhie tartan one of the best. Or perhaps she had liked what was underneath. He slapped himself mentally. This girl distracted him far too easily. "Ye dinna answer my question." He tapped his chest. "Why the hell did ye do this?"

She lifted her chin. "I will admit now that it was a mistake, but at the time, I was very angry with you."

"Angry?" Ian gave her an incredulous look. "What could I possibly do to make ye angry? I was dead all day."

"You were live on the Internet. People were looking at you on Single in the City, and the phone was ringing off the hook. I have problems of my own to deal with, so—"

"Ladies were calling me?" Ian interrupted her. He couldn't believe it. Vanda's plan was working.

Toni shot him an annoyed look. "Didn't you see the messages I left for you upstairs? On the nightstand?"

"Nay, I was distracted by this." He pressed a hand against his chest. He wanted to stay angry, but the thought of women actually pursuing him was amazing. "Ladies were calling me?"

Toni groaned, then took her plate to the sink. "Yes, Mr. Super Ego. Forty-three women and two men, to be precise. And that was before ten A.M."

"Two men?" Phineas snickered.

Ian muttered a few words in Gaelic that made Dougal laugh. His initial excitement was wearing off, for he now realized that all the women who had called during the day were mortal. None of them would do.

The phone rang, and Phineas reached for it.

"Don't bother." Toni returned to the table where she'd left some clothes on the back of a chair. She looped a green scarf around her neck. "It's probably another desperate woman. The answering machine's been picking them up since this morning."

"But she might be hot!" Phineas lifted the receiver. "Hello there," he said in a deep, sexy voice. "You have reached the luxurious abode of Dr. Phang, the love doctor. Tell me where it hurts, baby."

"Toni," Dougal spoke quietly. "Ye're supposed to answer the phone during the day. We doona want people thinking the house is vacant."

"I know." She stuffed her arms into a jacket. "But—"

"No, Travis, I'm not interested!" Phineas slammed the phone down. "Shit."

Toni snorted. "See what I mean? That's why Howard agreed to let me use the answering machine." She hitched her handbag over her shoulder. "See you guys later."

"Where are ye going?" Ian asked.

She ignored him and strode from the kitchen, leaving the door swinging in her wake.

"Bloody hell," Ian growled. He gulped down the rest of his cold breakfast, then set the bottle in the sink on his way to the kitchen door.

"Ian." Dougal stopped him. "Doona chase her away. We're in desperate need of mortal guards we can trust."

He pointed at his T-shirt. "What makes ye think we can trust her?"

"She's a good fighter, and she has good reason to hate the Malcontents," Dougal replied.

"And she hasn't killed us in our sleep," Phineas added. "Yet."

"That's reassuring." Ian strode into the foyer and found Toni by the front door, punching buttons on the security panel. "Ye canna leave."

"I don't see why not. I'm off duty." She finished the code to release the alarm, then reached for the doorknob.

"I need to talk to you."

"I don't want to." She motioned to the answering machine. "But there are hundreds of women who do."

"Ye're exaggerating."

She marched across the foyer to the sideboard where the phone and answering machine were located. She punched a button, and a robotic male voice spoke.

"You have three hundred and fourteen messages."

Ian's mouth fell open.

Toni gave him a knowing smirk, then strode back to the front door. "You'd better get busy. It'll take you hours to return all those calls."

"I'll just delete them."

She turned slowly to face him. "You're not going to answer them?"

"They called during the day, so they must be mortal."

"Good grief, you're an arrogant snob!"

He stiffened. "It's no' a matter of arrogance. It's reality."

"Your reality! You think you're too good for mere mortals."

"Doona presume to know what I'm thinking."

Her eyes narrowed. "Fine. We'll stick to the facts. Those are real people who called with real feelings. Only a pompous oaf would deny them the courtesy of an answer."

He moved closer to her. "Doona lecture me on courtesy, no' when ye wrote this rubbish on me while I slept."

"I was angry!" She stepped toward him, her cheeks growing flushed. "I had to endure hours of people moaning, 'Ooh, Ian is so hot! You're lucky I only wrote on your T-shirt. I almost puked on it!"

He had trouble concentrating on her words, because her rushing blood filled his nostrils, and her racing heartbeat pounded in his mind. Just gazing into the fiery green depths of her eyes made his hearing grow dull. The scent of her blood combined with the fragrance of her hair and skin, and he'd never breathed in air so sweet.

She stepped back. "Is something wrong? Your eyes look a little weird."

He struggled to think. Why had all those calls made her angry? Then a sudden thought struck him. "Ye were jealous."

"What?" she scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."

He pointed to the words on his chest. "Ye dinna like other ladies saying I was a studmuffin."

"They never called you a—" She winced. "I have to go." She moved toward the door.

He followed her. "The studmuffin part was yer idea?"

"It wasn't meant as a compliment," she muttered.

He smiled. "But it is yer honest opinion, aye?"

She grabbed the doorknob. "I have things to do, places to go."

He planted a hand on the door. "Such as?"

"None of your business."

His smile faded. "Ye never told me yer full name. Or why ye agreed to guard us."

"I told you, good pay and free room and board."

"And I told you I doona trust you. Ye're hiding something."

Her eyes glinted with anger. "I took a vow to protect your egotistical hide."

"Why would ye protect us when ye doona like us?"

She arched a brow. "Maybe it's just you I don't like."

His gaze drifted over her face, then down over her hip-length jacket and tight-fitting jeans. "I can tell when ye're lying, lass. I can hear yer heart racing and smell the blood rushing to yer face."

Her cheeks turned pink. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Fine. Then I have no choice but to investigate you." The phone rang, distracting him. "Don't leave," he warned her, then headed toward the phone.

Toni made a frustrated noise behind him, and he glanced back. With an impatient gesture, she tugged her hair free from the scarf that had pinned it down. The strands of gold tumbled down around her shoulders. Somehow, she managed to make a simple movement look graceful and beautiful.

The answering machine picked up, and a woman's voice filled the foyer. "Ian, I just read your profile, and I'd love to meet you. Are you there? Pick up!"

He reached for the receiver, then hesitated.

"What's wrong?" Toni asked.

"I doona know what to say."

She snorted. "How about hello?"

The caller gave her name and telephone number.

"It's no' that simple." Ian couldn't tell if this woman was a Vamp, and it wasn't something he could just ask. Bugger. He'd have to actually meet all the women who called after dark. The minute he saw them, he'd know if they were alive or Undead. But what if there were hundreds of them?

The woman hung up, then the phone rang again.

He dragged a hand through his hair. "This is too much. I shouldna have let Vanda do this."

"Vanda?" Toni asked. "Is she another girlfriend?"

"A friend. She wrote my profile and put me on the dating site. She only meant to help, but—"

"What?" Toni walked toward him. "You didn't write your own profile?"

Another woman's voice came on the answering machine.

Ian turned down the volume so he could talk to Toni. "I let Vanda write it. She said she knew what women wanted to hear. I suppose she does, since so many are calling."

Toni wrinkled her nose. "It's not what I would want to hear. I've never read such hogwash in all my life."

"Ye read my profile?"

She tucked her hair behind an ear. "I was curious. I mean, hundreds of women were calling. I wanted to see what had gotten them all excited."

"And ye thought it was hogwash?"

"Of course. 'My true love will be like a shimmering, starlit princess in my enchanted Highland castle. And I'll be her devoted love slave, attending to her every waking desire till she's flooded with waves of sensual pleasure. Oh, the rapture! The ecstasy! The nausea!" Toni pointed at her mouth like she wanted to induce vomiting.

Ian winced. Vanda's prose did sound overly dramatic, but then Toni's reaction seemed a bit exaggerated, too. "It's verra interesting that ye would commit the lines to memory. I'm flattered ye studied it so carefully."

Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. "You should have Vanda do some serious editing. The way it's worded right now, it doesn't sound very…manly."

He arched a brow. Was she challenging him again? "I'll take a look at it tonight."

"You haven't read it yet?"

"Nay." He shrugged one shoulder. "I'm sure Vanda did a better job of it than I ever could."

Toni gave him a suspicious look. "It's not like you to be modest." Her eyes suddenly widened. "Oh my gosh, are you nervous about dating?"

He swallowed hard. She'd hit a bull's-eye. "It's…hard to explain."

"How can you be nervous? Haven't you been seducing women for ages, so you could get their…blood?"

"That was different. I'm looking for my true love now, the woman I'll marry and spend the rest of my life with. I'm no' really sure how to go about it, or if I'll find the right one. There are so many to choose from."

"Yeah, the dating scene is rough." Her gaze grew sympathetic. "But you shouldn't worry. You'll do fine. You just need some practice. You did really well last night when you flirted with me."

"Ye enjoyed it?"

Her eyes hardened. "I wouldn't say that."

He tilted his head. "Ye're a woman."

"Brilliant, Sherlock. You must be a professional investigator."

He smiled. "I am, actually. That's my area of expertise." He noted the wary look that suddenly appeared in her eyes. Was she worried about what he might find out about her? "Ye said I needed more practice. Would ye let me practice with you?"

She glanced toward the door. "I was just leaving."

"It would only take a few minutes." He gestured toward the parlor. "I would really appreciate it."

He could see the wheels turning behind her lovely green eyes. Perhaps if she was nice and humored him, he would forget to investigate her? Fat chance. She was far too intriguing.

"I could spare a few minutes, I suppose." She wandered slowly toward the parlor.

"Thank you." He waited while she dropped her handbag on the couch, then removed her jacket. When she perched on the edge of the sofa cushion, he sat beside her.

She glanced warily at him. "I'm not sure you really need this. You were flirting like a pro last night."

"I dinna realize what I was doing till ye told me. I must have been distracted by all the other emotions I was feeling." Like suspicion. And lust.

"Then you'll probably do fine as long as you don't get self-conscious about it."

"Perhaps. Or it might be easier with you because it doesna matter."

She stiffened. "Because I'm a mortal and beneath you?"

"Nay!" What made her so touchy about that? Had someone slashed her ego in the past? "Toni, I barely know you, but I canna see anything remotely unworthy about you. Any man would be blessed and honored to receive yer love."

Her eyes widened.

"I only meant that we doona have to worry about how we feel about each other. It doesna matter because we canna have a relationship. It's against the rules."

"Right." She leaned back and crossed her arms. "Okay. Since I can't be affected in any way, let's see what you can do. Try your best mojo on me."

Mojo? What the hell was that?

She shifted to face him. "You see me in a bar. I'm a sexy, Vamp lady with a gorgeous set of…fangs. So you make your move…" She watched him expectantly.

Smooth and charming. That had worked for Jean-Luc. "Good evening, miss. Ye're looking quite fetching tonight."

"Thanks." Her eyes narrowed. "Lovely weather we're having."

"Quite so. A bit chilly, perhaps."

"Indeed, Mr. Darcy. I fear the sheep will be shivering on the moor." She made a face at him. "What century did you come from?"

"The sixteenth, but I've adjusted over the centuries."

She scoffed. "Not enough. You're still behind about two hundred years."

"I was trying to sound charming."

"Prince Charming's not a hero anymore. Haven't you watched Shrek?"

He didn't know what she was talking about. "I thought charm could never go out of style. It worked for Jean-Luc."

"I don't know him. Look, you've got to sound more modern. More hip. Try again."

He searched his mind for the right words. "Yo, hot mama, let's get down?"

She burst into laughter. "Now you sound like Phineas, except that you just said, 'Let's get dune. Oh God, the accent is so funny."

"Thanks." He gave her a wry look. "Perhaps I can mispronounce myself into a lady's affections."

Toni grinned. "You still sound old-fashioned."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

She tilted her head, considering. "I suppose it depends on the girl. Some girls like having a man open the door for them. But a lot of modern women would interpret chivalrous behavior as rude. We can open the damned door for ourselves. Don't ever consider us the weaker sex."

"Then ye're misinterpreting my motives. I would open the door to show respect, no' disrespect."

"But do you really respect women? Haven't we just been your dinner for centuries?"

"Ye've been my salvation. I could never have survived without you."

Her eyes widened. "We see things so differently from each other."

"That only makes you more fascinating to me." He gazed into her eyes and saw a mixture of emotions struggling against one another. She was so beautiful. So determined to be tough and hide her wounds. Would it frighten her if she knew how attracted he was to her? "I would never harm you, lass. I hope ye know that."

She pulled back suddenly and looked away. "Were you using mind control on me?"

"No."

"Then why am I—" She gave him a wary glance. "Never mind."

Was she feeling it, too? This strange pull between them. He stretched an arm along the back of the sofa. "Tell me, Toni, when it comes to dating a modern lass, would it be all right for me to kiss her on the first date?"

She pulled her handbag into her lap. "A peck on the cheek would be fine. Or a quick kiss when you say good-bye."

"What if I want more?"

Her cheeks reddened. "If you want to jump in the sack, that's your choice."

"I was only referring to a deeper, more satisfying kiss. But since ye're in a hurry to get me in bed—"

"I think you've had enough practice." She jumped to her feet and pulled on her coat.

He stood. "Thank you. This was verra educational."

"Right." She swung her handbag onto her shoulder. "Believe me, you'll do fine with the dating." She headed for the front door.

"That's good. I have two dates tonight."

She glanced back. "Two?"

Was she jealous? "The nights are long. I'll see you in the morning before sunrise. We still need to talk."

She shook her head as she reached for the doorknob. "There's nothing to talk about."

"I have questions that need answering."

"You're too nosy."

"If ye refuse to talk to me, I'll have to investigate you."

Her eyes flashed with anger. "Why can't you leave me alone?" She left, slamming the door behind her.

That was a good question. He had two dates tonight and plenty of phone calls he could return. But for some reason, he couldn't leave Toni alone. She filled his thoughts. He desired her, but it was more than lust. She was a mystery. A beautiful, clever mystery. And damned fun to flirt with.

He teleported to the fifth floor to shower and change. First he would go to Romatech to see Connor and begin his investigation. He had a few hours to kill before meeting his dates at the Horny Devils.

In the bathroom, he yanked the T-shirt off, then stared at the words Toni had scribbled. Could she really be jealous that so many women desired him? Or did he just want her to be jealous? One thing was certain. He was totally intrigued by their beautiful female guard.

Angus MacKay's cardinal rule repeated in the back of his mind. A guard must never become romantically involved with his charges. She was forbidden. She was mortal.

"Bloody hell." He tossed the T-shirt in the trash.