"Yes, and I have something for you." Carlos pulled something small and metallic from his pants pocket. He attached it to her vest. "It'll send images back to me."
It looked like a spy camera. "Are you sure you're an anthropology student?"
He chuckled. "Some of the jungle tribes I've come across don't like the bigger cameras. They get very nervous when they see themselves shrunk down inside a little box. So I've learned it's better to record them this way."
"Oh." She supposed that made sense.
"You're all set." Carlos patted her shoulder. "Good luck."
Ian listened as he sat on the love seat, but whenever they whispered, he caught only a word or two. Something about nervous jungle tribes? What the hell was Carlos talking about? And why should he get to watch Toni dress? Just how close was he to Toni? The man had introduced himself as only a next-door neighbor.
A slight sound drew his attention. Carlos had exited Toni's room, closing the door with a click. He hunched over and shut his eyes, his brow furrowed. Ian opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when Carlos suddenly straightened.
He pressed a hand against his chest. "I swear by all that is holy, if I ever find another scrunchie in this apartment, I will hack it to pieces with a meat cleaver."
Ian wasn't sure what a scrunchie was, but it sounded ominous. "Is Toni all right?"
"Yes. Thank God I was there to save her. You'll just love the outfit I picked out. And I gave her a new do."
A new what? Ian was confused.
"I insisted she wear more makeup." Carlos waved a hand to emphasize his words. "But she's such a natural beauty, she hardly needs any at all. Don't you just hate that?"
Were they speaking the same language? "She's verra pretty."
"She's a nice girl." Carlos's face grew grim. "I'll be very upset if you hurt her."
Now this he understood. "I would never harm her." Ian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "How long have ye known her?"
"Two years. She and Sabrina are like sisters to me."
"Who's Sabrina?"
"Oh dear, I left a quesadilla in the oven. See you later, Ian." Carlos dashed to the kitchen, scooted through the kitchen window, then shut it behind him.
There was something definitely odd about that man. His scent was off, and his behavior inconsistent. There was a click of stiletto heels against the wooden floor, and Ian's attention snapped back to the bedroom door.
"I'm ready," Toni announced.
He gulped. His brain quickly registered luscious red-painted lips, loose silken hair, a clingy knit top, a tiny skirt, trim golden thighs, and high-heeled black boots. He blinked. She was still there, still stunning.
She walked toward him, her hips swaying just enough to hypnotize. "Will this be okay for your club?"
"Aye," he croaked. Thank God the Horny Devils was mostly full of females. But even a female Vamp could be tempted by Toni. "Ye'd better stay close to me."
"How can I?" She leaned over the coffee table to gather her belongings, and her knit top molded tightly against her breasts. "Don't you have three dates?"
"Aye." Her bra must be too tight, for he could swear she was spilling out of it. "They're lovely handfuls."
She shrugged on her jacket. "So you think they're beautiful?"
His gaze dropped to her long, lean thighs. "Aye, slender and golden, kissed by the sun."
"They're tanned?" She looped her scarf around her neck. "How did they manage that? Hello?"
He dragged his eyes up to hers. "Yes?"
She gave him an annoyed look. "Let me give you a little dating advice. Look at a woman's face when you talk to her, not her skirt."
"Yer skirt invites a man's attention. I've seen handkerchiefs that were bigger."
She swung her handbag over her shoulder. "At least I wear underwear under my skirt."
"I hope they're nice since everyone is sure to see them."
Her eyes glinted with challenge. "Not everyone."
He smiled slowly. "We'll see about that."
With blushing cheeks, she turned toward the door. "Let's not keep your dates waiting."
Ian jumped up and hurried past her to open the door.
She stepped into the hall and dug the keys from her handbag. "Where is this club?"
"Hell's Kitchen."
"How appropriate." She locked the door. "Are you going to click your heels and magically poof us over there?"
"No, I'm driving." He escorted her toward the stairs. It would be faster if he teleported them straight to the club, but driving her there would give him more time to talk to her. "I have a car parked nearby."
She started down the stairs. "You know how to drive?"
"I've been driving since 1913."
"Good grief. I hope you traded in for a newer model."
He grinned. "Actually, I still have my first car, a 1913 Rolls-Royce. I've kept my favorites over the years—a 38 Bentley, a 59 Morgan, and a 69 MGB Roadster. My latest purchase is a 2005 Aston Martin."
She halted halfway down the stairs with a stunned look on her face. "You really do collect expensive cars? Don't tell me the other stuff in your profile is true."
"What other stuff?"
She continued down the stairs. "Stuff like your enchanted castle in the Highlands."
He chuckled. "I wouldna call it enchanted, unless ye're entranced by the notion of mildew."
"Then you really do have a castle?"
"It's no' nearly as huge as Angus's castle. I would describe it as more of a large manor house."
"Oh. How…cozy." With an irritated look, she crossed the foyer to the entrance door, her high-heeled boots clicking on the marble floor. "Since you didn't even write your profile, I'm sure all those sappy promises are false."
He reached the door first. "What promises?"
She snorted. "You still haven't read it, have you?"
"I've been busy returning hundreds of phone calls. And investigating you. What promises?"
She shrugged like she didn't care. "There was one about remaining faithful to your wife forever. Like that could happen."
"It would happen."
She looked doubtful. "And then there was a promise to keep your shimmering, starlit princess in a state of orgasmic ecstasy forever." She rolled her eyes. "Like that could happen, too."
His mouth twitched. "I could certainly try. I do want my wife to feel well pleasured."
She bit her lip and looked away. "You really intend to get married then?"
"Yes." He opened the door, and a blast of cold air knocked her back a step.
She tugged her scarf up over her ears and mouth so her voice sounded muffled. "God, I'm gonna freeze my ass off."
And such a lovely ass. He stepped in front of her to block the wind. "This way. It's no' far." He led her down the street and glared at the men who passed them by and stared at Toni's exposed legs.
"How could someone in your situation take wedding vows seriously?" she mumbled from under her scarf. "You can't honestly claim that you'll stay faithful for centuries."
"Doona accuse me of dishonesty."
"I'm sorry, but some of the stuff in your profile doesn't make sense to me."
There was stuff about her that didn't make sense, either. And he still didn't know her full name. Ian fumbled in his sporran for the car keys. He'd driven one of Roman's cars here, a black Lexus.
"For instance," she continued, "you claim you want to lavish tons of money on your princess. If you're so rich, how come you're working as a security guard?"
"My specialty is investigation. I've broken into Langley twice, undetected."
"Sneaky rascal, aren't you?"
He grinned. "As for the money, I doona have nearly as much as Roman or Angus. They have billions." He punched a button on the keypad, then opened the car door. "I only have a few million."