it. She was turning the tables on him. “It’s you I doona completely trust.”
“You’re the one trying to break the rule of noninvolvement.”
“Bloody hell, I’m a man! Do ye expect me no’ to notice how beautiful ye are?” He swayed on his feet.
She reached out a hand to steady him, then pulled her arm back before making contact. “Don’t you dare fall dead in my bedroom. How could I explain that?”
“No one will know I was here. Trust me.”
She gave him a sad look. “How could I ever trust a vampire?”
“I’m still a man,” he whispered. “And I would never hurt you.” With his last ounce of energy, he teleported to the fifth floor, pulled off his jumper, and collapsed on the bed. He’d get his answers tonight.
As death-sleep washed over him, he wished he could dream of lovely girls with golden hair and eyes as green as a Highland meadow in springtime.
I deserve to be happy.
I will accomplish my goals.
Toni began her morning affirmations in the shower. As she soaped up her arms, she recalled how Ian had grabbed her and pulled her close. She’d been too stunned to fight him off. Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
I will achieve something meaningful with my life.
I am worthy to be loved.
Dammit, she’d liked being in his arms. She was out of her mind. She wouldn’t think about him anymore. She rinsed off and started her affirmations again.
I deserve to be happy.
Do ye expect me no’ to notice how beautiful ye are?
Good grief, now his words were repeating in her head. But what nice words. And what had he told her earlier? Any man would be blessed and honored to receive yer love. With a sigh, she turned the water off. She’d waited all her life to hear someone tell her the right words. What rotten luck that it was coming from a vampire.
She dressed, popped in her contacts, and pulled her damp hair back into a ponytail. She’d dry it later. For now, she needed to make her rounds and call in her first report. She went to the basement to make sure the little Vamps were all snug in their little Vamp beds. Dougal and Phineas were fine. Time for the long trek upstairs. Of all the floors, Ian had to pick the top one. At least the five flights were good cardio.
She found him on the king-sized bed, stretched out in his kilt, white T-shirt, socks, and shoes. His sweater was on the floor. She picked it up, folded it, and placed it beside him on the bed. His face was peaceful, but rugged with black stubble shading his jaw. She fought an urge to stroke a fingertip down his cheek and poke the dimple in his chin.
She turned away from his face and noted his shoes. That couldn’t be comfy. She had one shoe pulled off when she realized it had only been yesterday morning when she’d been afraid to even touch him.
She glanced at his face. He was becoming human to her. And not just human, but attractive. Damn. She dropped his second shoe on the floor and left the room. She needed to quit this job as soon as possible. She just needed to find proof that the Vamps existed. Then she could shove that proof in Dr. Proctor’s face and demand he let Sabrina go. And then she would be out of here. She’d never have to see Ian again.
A sudden wave of sadness caught her by surprise. Damn, why couldn’t he have been mortal? Why couldn’t she have met him at NYU? If he’d approached her there with his gorgeous face and lilting, soft accent, she would have fallen for him in a second. God help her, she wanted to hear him say more lovely things to her. She wanted to know if his thick, black hair felt soft if she raked her fingers through it.
How old was he exactly? He’d mentioned the sixteenth century. It was fascinating once she thought about all the things he must have seen over the centuries. What kind of baggage was he carrying on his broad shoulders? What kept him going night after night through the centuries? Did he really want to share his long life with one special woman?
Stop thinking about him.
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Sex Retreat [Cowboy Sex 6]