"I heard you on the phone," he said softly behind her. "Ye dinna want me to get my hair cut."
Her heart raced. "Of course not." She turned toward him, waving a dismissive hand. "Who could imagine you with short hair? It wouldn't suit you."
"Ye dinna want me to change."
"Don't read more into it than - "
"Ye said ye like me the way I am." He stepped toward her.
Her heart thudded louder in her ears. "I like a lot of things. Salad. And apple pie. And things that are logical and consistent."
"Och, then ye're in luck, for I'm verra consistent."
"Your pulse isn't. It stops at sunrise."
"Aye, but every sunrise. I'm more reliable than a clock. My feelings for you are consistent as well. No matter what happens, they willna change. And I'm verra logical, too."
Also very sweet and sexy, but she tried not to dwell on that. "What's logical about being Undead?"
"Allow me to explain." His eyes glimmered. "After centuries of searching, I found the most beautiful woman ever, and she's so brilliant and brave that I'm falling for her. Does that no' seem verra logical?"
It did. And even more, it touched her heart, although she didn't want to admit it. She crossed her arms. "You're pretty clever for someone who's brain dead all day."
His mouth twitched as he moved closer. "Ye like me."
She stepped back, bumping against a wooden post. "Just . . . like. Nothing more."
"Ah." He stopped in front of her. "Tell me then, does yer heart always pound this fast for things ye like?"
Damn his superior hearing. She lifted her chin. "I've been known to get very excited over chocolate."
The corner of his mouth curved up. "What else do ye like?" He skimmed his fingers down her cheek. "Do ye like this? Or this?" He stroked her neck.
God, yes. She bit her lip to keep from moaning.
"Do ye know what I like?" He ran his fingers along her jaw. "I like to touch yer sweet, soft skin." He wrapped an arm around her to pull her close. "I like the way ye feel in my arms. And the way ye react to me. Yer heart sounds like a thunderstorm about to break loose."
She clutched his shirt in her fists. How could she resist such a man?
"I like the way ye taste." He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. "Och, lass, I would like to kiss you."
Good God, she was about to melt into a puddle at his feet. She glanced up to his eyes.
They were red and glowing.
She jumped back, breaking his hold. Just when she'd felt ready to surrender her heart, reality had rushed back to slap her in the face. She was falling for a vampire.
"Doona let it frighten you." He watched her sadly. "My eyes will always turn when I hunger for you. So ye'll be seeing it often."
She cleared her throat. "No offense, but would you mind clarifying that a bit? Am I to assume that you're not referring to physical hunger? That the sudden change in your eyes is merely an indication of sexual arousal?"
His mouth curled up. "Yes, Doctor. That is an accurate assessment."
She narrowed her eyes. "Are you making fun of me now?"
"Never." He gave her an injured look. The red in his eyes faded back to green.
"Oh, I guess I ruined the mood." She blinked innocently. "So sorry."
He smiled. "Doona fash. 'Twill come back soon enough."
She gave him a dubious look. "You think so?"
"Aye. And while we wait, allow me to give you the clarification ye requested." His gaze drifted down her body. "I was thinking of tupping you, no' supping from you."
"Tupping me?"
"Is that too old-fashioned? I'll try to modernize." He leaned closer, a smile tugging at his lips. "I want to boink you, no' bite you."
Boink? She bit her lip when she felt an odd urge to giggle. "And here I was, thinking you could be wonderfully poetic."
He narrowed his eyes. "Are ye making fun of me now?"
"Never." She mimicked his injured look.
With a chuckle, he pulled her into his arms, and she went willingly. How could she fear him when he was so adorable? So sweet and honorable.
Seven days, she realized. In only seven days, she'd gone from fainting in his presence to snuggling against him.
She turned her head, her cheek pressed against his bare chest. She could hear his heart pounding, feel his chest moving with each breath. "You're warmer than I thought you'd be."
"I'm alive at the moment."
Very alive. She skimmed a hand up to his rib cage. "You have some amazing choco-abs."
"I do?" His breath stirred her hair. "What is that?"
"A six-pack that looks like a Hershey bar." She pressed a kiss against his chest. "And tastes like one."
"Och, lass." He rubbed his chin against her hair.
She skimmed her hand over his tattoo, tracing the dragon's head, then touching the flames. "I tried ignoring you 'cause I'm afraid of getting burned."
"I know. I'm a wee frightened myself."
"Why?"
"I've waited so long. I canna bear to lose you."
Her heart fluttered. "How long have you waited?"
"Almost three hundred years."
"You've aged well." She smoothed a hand over a well-developed pectoral muscle, then caressed his nipple.
His chest expanded as he inhaled sharply. "Och, lass. My eyes have turned again."
That hadn't taken long. She smiled, knowing that she had caused it.
He kissed her brow. "I should apologize for using words like tupping and boinking. I said them in jest, but I dinna mean any disrespect."
Her smile widened. "I've heard a lot worse. During my residency, I worked in the E.R., and some of the patients called me some really nasty things."
"They did?" He leaned back, frowning. "If ye give me their names, I'll track them down and knock their heads together."
She laughed. She didn't know which she liked more - his protective nature or the funny way he said doon. "What am I going to do with you?"
He regarded her seriously. "Give me a chance to be with you." His arms tightened around her. "When I draw my dying breath at dawn, my last thought is of you. And when my heart jolts back to life, my first thought is of you. My mind is filled with you. And my heart longs for you something fierce."
Her eyes burned. He was poetic after all. She'd wondered earlier how she could resist him, but she hadn't been ready yet to admit the truth.
She couldn't. She was falling in love with him. So quickly. So completely.
"Dougal," she whispered.
He rested his forehead against hers. "Leah."
Their noses touched. Their mouths hovered close.
"Yes." She slid her arms around his neck.
His lips pressed against hers once. Twice, lingering a bit longer.
Then suddenly his arms tightened around her, crushing her against him as his mouth covered hers, hungrily devouring.
The volcano within him had erupted, and she was being swept along on the blast, melting in his heat. His tongue invaded her mouth. His hands explored. His groan reverberated through her, sending little shock waves past her stomach to settle with a delicious hum between her legs.
She needed to be closer. Her hands tangled with his wet, wild hair.
"Leah." He scattered kisses across her face and down her throat.
Her breasts ached to be touched, and she rubbed against his rock-hard chest. It wasn't enough. The ache slid down to her core, and she moaned.
He pushed aside her lab coat and palmed her breast. "Leah." His thumb grazed over her nipple.
"Please." Her sweater was too thick.
As if he'd heard her, he dug his hand beneath the hem of her sweater and slid it up to her breast once again.
She gasped. This time there was only the thin silk of her bra in the way. She shuddered when his fingers coaxed her nipple into pebbling.
"Leah," he whispered in her ear, giving the hard tip of her breast a little squeeze.
Her legs quivered, moisture pooling between her thighs.
"I want you." He traced the curve of her ear with his tongue. "I want to - "
He stiffened suddenly, and his head turned toward the building.
"What's wrong?"
He swung her up in his arms and rushed toward the side door. "The alarm went off. Someone's teleported inside."
The security office was empty. Dougal dropped Leah onto her feet. "This is the safest place for you."
"What's going on?" she asked.
Good question. He punched the flashing button to turn off the alarm, then scanned the monitors, searching for the intruder. He spotted Freemont in the silver room standing next to the empty stretcher.
The captured soldier was gone.
Laszlo and Roman rushed into the office, followed by Gregori, carrying Abby. He set her down next to Leah.
"What triggered the alarm?" Roman demanded.
"I never heard it," Leah said.
Abby leaned close to her. "It's set at a pitch where only Vamps and shifters can hear it."
Dougal punched the intercom next to the monitor showing the silver room. "Freemont, what happened?"
Freemont winced, glancing at the camera. "I'm not sure. It all happened so fast. The alarm started flashing, and I thought I saw someone in here. But he vanished, taking the soldier with him."
"Oh no," Abby whispered.
"Do a thorough search of the basement, then the building," Dougal ordered Freemont.
"Yes, sir."
Dougal zoomed to the computer on the desk so he could rewind the video recording in the silver room. The monitor flickered, then cleared.
"This was two minutes ago." Dougal approached the monitor. The captured soldier was asleep on the stretcher, all the restraints in place.
The others gathered around the monitor, waiting for something to happen.
"There!" Roman pointed when a figure suddenly appeared in the room.
Abby gasped.
"Oh, shit," Gregori whispered.
"I don't understand," Leah said. "I thought a vampire couldn't teleport into that room."
Dougal's eyes narrowed. The intruder was male, tall, dressed entirely in black, with long, dark hair. With a flick of his hand, the restraints fell open all at once. With a wry look toward the camera, he grabbed the soldier, then vanished.
"Oh dear." Laszlo fumbled with a button. "I don't think that was a vampire."
"He's not," Gregori said, wrapping an arm around Abby, who was visibly shaken. "That was Darafer. The demon."
Chapter Seventeen
Everything was happening so quickly that Dougal hardly had time to think.
Roman immediately called Angus MacKay in London, and since it was still dark there, Angus and Emma teleported straight to Romatech.
"Are ye sure it was Darafer?" Angus asked as soon as he entered the security office.
"Aye," Dougal replied from behind the desk. "Gregori and Abby identified him."
Angus paced across the office. "We need to find a way to keep him from returning."
Abby snorted. "He's a demon. He can go anywhere he wants."
Angus halted with a jerk. "Do we know that for a certainty?"
"Why don't we ask Marielle?" Dougal suggested. As a former angel, she would know more than anyone else would about demons.
Angus nodded. "Call her. Emma can call Dragon Nest for reinforcements. I'll call the Coven House in San Francisco to get J.L. Wang here." He stepped into the hallway with Emma and Roman.
Dragon Nest Academy was where the shifter and hybrid children lived and went to school, so a number of MacKay employees worked there. On the monitor that showed the side entrance, Dougal spotted Ian MacPhie arriving. He was bringing werewolf Phil Jones with him. Roman met them to update them on what was happening.
Next to arrive was J.L. Wang, head of security for the West Coast Coven in San Francisco. He had were-tiger Rajiv with him.
Darafer's invasion had changed everything. The mutated soldier was gone, and most likely he was with Master Han and the other soldiers in China. Would Angus decide to move the entire project there? Was that why he'd sent for J.L. and Rajiv? Dougal didn't want to consider the possibility that he would have to go. Or Leah. Just the thought made his prosthetic hand clench.
He forced his hand to relax and called his old friend, Connor Buchanan, in Scotland. Connor was semi-retired from MacKay S&I, only rarely accepting missions, for he hated to be parted from his wife and child. A few years back he'd met and married Marielle, a fallen angel.
When Connor answered, Dougal quickly explained what had happened. "We're sure it was Darafer. Gregori and Abby recognized him. They've run into him before."
"He's no' someone ye easily forget," Connor muttered. "I almost ended up in hell thanks to him."
"We need to know if there's any way to block him from entering Romatech," Dougal said.
"I doubt ye can, but I'll ask Marielle. Hang on a bit."
"Okay." Dougal set the receiver on the desk while Connor talked to his wife.
Gregori hunched down beside his wife, who was sitting in a chair in front of the desk. "Are you all right? Do you want me to take you home?"
"With all the reinforcements coming in, the women will be safer here with us," Dougal said, glancing at Leah, who also sat in front of the desk. She looked pale, staring at her clutched hands in her lap.