Laszlo glanced down at his plaid shirt, plastic pocket protector, and khaki pants belted high at the waist. “Something’s wrong with my clothes?”
Gregori heaved a sigh. “You need help, bro.” He glanced over at Dougal. “It wouldn’t hurt you to update, too, you know. How long have you been wearing that kilt? A couple of hundred years?”
Dougal scoffed. “ ’Tis new.” He’d ordered it in Glasgow a few years back. Well, ten years. He finally managed to relax his prosthetic hand.
“And the poufy shirt?” Gregori eyed it askance. “Did you steal that off a pirate?”
“Nay.” Dougal had had his share of scuffles with pirates, but never over a shirt.
Gregori’s mouth twitched. “We should trade your bionic hand in for a hook and get you an eye patch. Then you’d really look like a pirate. You already have the long, wild hair.”
“ ’Tis no’ wild,” Dougal grumbled. He’d tied it back with a strip of leather. He glanced over at Leah and discovered her looking at him. She turned away. For the first time in centuries, he wondered what a woman saw when she looked at him. Did he actually look like a bloody pirate?
“What am I going to do with you guys?” Gregori sighed. “Laszlo looks like a dork, and you—Dougal, you gotta lose the skirt, the poufy shirt, and the hairy handbag. That thing is scary.”
Dougal glanced down at his sporran, made of black muskrat fur. “ ’Tis verra practical. Where else would I keep my coin?”
“Pockets!” Gregori gave him an incredulous look. “Have you heard of those? Sheesh, dude, you’re medieval.”
He stiffened. “I’m no’ medieval.”
“Dougal, you’re accessorizing with a dead animal.”
“I’m no’ medieval. I was transformed after the Battle of Culloden in 1746. ’Twas called the Age of Enlightenment, in case ye dinna know.”
Gregori snorted. “You fought for Bonnie Prince Charlie? How enlightened was that?”
Dougal gritted his teeth. “I fought for freedom from English tyranny. As a bloody Yank, ye should understand that.”
Gregori shrugged. “Fine. But I’m telling you, man, if you want to find a woman, you need to upgrade.” His eyes lit up. “I bet you need some practice, too. Don’t go anywhere.” He took off across the foyer and down the hallway.
Laszlo fiddled with another button. “What is he up to?”
“No good, most likely.” Dougal looked at Leah. She was nibbling on a strawberry and casting curious glances at the crowd of Vamps across the room. “Are ye serious about her?”
“I-I’m not sure,” Laszlo answered quietly. “She may be in shock, so I should probably leave her be for a while and give her some time to adjust . . .”
As Laszlo continued to reason with himself, Dougal studied her. She was a natural beauty, and he would wager a year’s earnings that she was unaware of it. Her hair was long, thick, and black, her face small and delicate, her neck slim and graceful. So much like Li Lei. Same creamy, porcelain skin. Same tilt of her head. Same little nose and exquisitely shaped mouth. He nearly moaned when she bit into a strawberry, then licked the juice from her lips.
Her eyes were different. They were a lighter, more golden brown, and their shape was a little rounder. And there was another difference. A huge one. Leah Chin was alive. This was no ghost shrouded with regret but a vibrant, lovely woman.
Li Lei’s hair had always been pulled tightly back, but Leah’s hair was loose. A glorious, shimmering curtain that swayed gently with her every move. He couldn’t wait to touch it, feel its silky texture, and run his hands through it.
His gaze drifted lower. Her knit shirt covered her shoulders, but he had no doubt they were beautiful. The clingy material outlined her breasts nicely, allowing him to envision the—
“ . . . mounds,” Laszlo said. “More like mountains.”
“What?” Dougal gave him a wary look.
“Paperwork,” he clarified. “Mounds of it. I doubt I have time to court Dr. Chin.”
“Right.” Dougal glanced once again at Leah and discovered her staring at him. Her eyes widened, and she turned her back. Damn, was he that scary to look at? Her abrupt movement had caused her hair to swing back and forth. It was cut bluntly across, the ends right below her shoulder blades.
A vision popped in his mind with him flat on his back and her sitting astride him, riding him, with her hair swaying wildly. And when she leaned forward to kiss him, her hair fell forward to sweep gently across his face. He would be immersed in her softness, her sweet fragrance. Just imagining it made his groin grow—
“ . . . tight,” Laszlo continued. “Very tight schedule. So much to do and so little time.”
“Aye,” Dougal muttered. So much he would do. He would caress her all over, explore every inch of her creamy skin, make her moan and writhe and scream with pleasure. He adjusted his sporran to conceal his hard—
“ . . . staff,” Laszlo said. “We have staff meetings every night.”
“Every night, aye,” Dougal mumbled. He would pleasure her every night.
“Oh God, no,” Laszlo whispered.
Dougal followed the chemist’s line of vision and spotted Gregori coming toward them. He was carrying VANNA in his arms. Who would bring a life-sized sex toy to a birthday party for bairns? Obviously, she wasn’t intended to be a present for the children. That meant . . .
“Bloody hell,” Dougal growled.
Chapter Five
How many times had she caught him staring at her from across the room? About as many times as he’d caught her doing the same. Leah’s face grew warm. What was it about him that kept her eyes gravitating toward him?
First of all, he was probably a vampire, so it was crazy to look at him at all. But she was. Over and over again. And that, unfortunately, provided more proof that she was no longer firing on all her synapses. Just one step away from going completely bonkers.
He was handsome, but then, so were most of the men in the room. Because of her Irish grandfather, she’d always had a fondness for men in kilts, but there were other kilted men in the room, and she wasn’t gawking at them. And it wasn’t as if he made her feel safe. Quite the contrary. Laszlo looked a lot safer. So did the cheerful men holding babies.
Was that the difference? Everyone looked happy except the guy in the doorway. Was it her own frazzled nerves that caused her to be drawn to the one person who appeared as agitated as she did?
She could feel his stare, the heat of it prickling her back. The last few times she’d glanced at him he’d seemed grim and angry. Intense. As if a roiling fire inside him was threatening to erupt like a volcano.
She glanced at him again and froze. So much hunger in his eyes. And pain. It shook her, grabbing onto her heart.
There’d always been a strong need inside her to fix people who were suffering. As if that could somehow erase all the pain she’d suffered in silence. It was why she’d insisted on going to medical school in spite of the awkwardness she felt around others.
But this was no ordinary man. She couldn’t let herself get drawn in. Not with him. Deep in her heart she knew he had the power to devastate her more than any other man on the planet.
She turned her back to him. “Who is he—the man next to Laszlo?”
Abby narrowed her eyes. “That must be Dougal. Dougal Kincaid. Haven’t seen him around much lately. He’s been guarding the Echarpes in Texas.”
“He’s security?” Leah sipped some punch and swallowed hard when Abby nodded her head. Of course he was security. He’d been watching her all evening. Even now she could feel his sharp emerald eyes burning into her back. “A vampire?”