She backed away and folded her arms across her bite-marked torso. "So how is the investigation going? Have you decided whether I'm trustworthy yet?"
"I still doona know yer full name. But yer refusal to talk to me is verra understandable after the way ye were attacked."
"True." Or maybe her refusal was a shield to keep her from feeling too attracted to this guy. Not that she would ever admit that.
"I'm still no' certain why ye dinna let Connor erase the memory. It is causing ye pain, lass."
She snorted. "If I had all my bad memories erased, there wouldn't be much left."
Ian frowned. "Surely that canna be so."
Toni thought back. No, there had been happy times. Sweet memories of her grandmother. Fun times with Sabrina. Moments of pride when she'd done well in school.
"My mother didn't want me." With a wince, she pressed a hand against her mouth. Damn. How had that slipped out?
Ian looked stunned. "How could that be?"
"I'm...illegitimate."
He shrugged one shoulder. "I dinna think that mattered in modern times."
"It didn't matter to my grandmother. She was happy to raise me. But my mom has always been embarrassed by her big mistake. Me." Toni waved a hand in dismissal. "It's not important. I don't know why I mentioned it."
"Because it causes ye pain. It's the pain we endure that makes us strong. Ye're verra brave no' to run from it."
Toni's gaze was drawn once more to Ian's, and she felt her pulse jump. Her skin tingled with awareness. Her lips went dry. Her mind grew fuzzy, and all she could think about was moving closer to him. When he stepped toward her, she wondered if he was feeling the same compulsion.
"I know the memory causes ye pain, but I'm verra glad ye kept it."
"You want me to suffer?"
"Nay. But if ye hadna kept yer memories, I would have never met you."
"Oh." Her brain grew even foggier, and she couldn't think of anything to say. She licked her lips, then noticed his gaze shifting to her mouth. Oh God.
"I'm back!" Carlos announced at the kitchen window.
Toni jerked back to her senses. Good grief, how long had she and Ian stared at each other? He moved back and folded his arms across his chest.
Carlos sauntered into the living room and gasped. "What are you doing, girl? You haven't changed clothes!"
"Excuse me?"
"You can't go to a nightclub like that." Carlos huffed. "Come on, let's get you ready." He grabbed her arm and dragged her toward her bedroom. "Make yourself comfortable, Ian. We'll just be a moment."
Ian looked confused. "Ye're...dressing her?"
"Don't worry. I'll make sure she looks fabulous." Carlos shoved her into the bedroom and shut the door. Then he rushed over to her closet. "You need to show some skin. How about this?" He pulled out a short denim skirt.
"I'll freeze my tail off."
"You're wearing it." Carlos tossed it on the bed, then returned to the closet. "You have to wear this vest. I just love it." He dropped the black leather vest on the bed.
"I'll need a shirt underneath."
"Must you?" Carlos groaned. "If you insist." He grabbed a sleeveless white turtleneck top. "Now you'll need some black boots, more makeup, and God forbid you wear that ponytail."
"You think this club will help?" she whispered.
"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 br**sts. "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."