He unbuttoned her shirt down the front. "We'll figure it out as we go."

"And what is the punishment for breaking the official Angus oath?"

With a groan, he slid her off his lap and onto the couch. "Having ye sit on my erection was punishment enough."

He pushed her back onto a soft chenille pillow and stretched out beside her. "I can hear yer heart pounding, yer blood rushing." He pressed the palm of her hand against the thin cotton covering his chest. "Can ye feel my heart racing?"

"Yes." She could, though her thoughts were dwelling more on the erection he'd just mentioned. Oh, Angus, where's the beef?

He opened her shirt, then unhooked her bra and peeled each side back. Her nipples hardened while his gaze turned glowing hot once more. "Pink," he whispered, and touched a hardened tip with his finger.

She gasped as a small shudder tingled from her breasts down to her belly.

"Blue," he whispered, and traced the veins under her pale skin. He scooted down the couch a bit so his mouth was even with her breasts.

She bemoaned the fact that his erection was now out of her reach, but quickly forgot that problem when his tongue circled her nipple. With a moan, she arched toward him.

"Delicious," he whispered, and drew her nipple into his mouth.

"Oh." She wove her fingers into his hair.

He suckled one breast while his hand teased the other, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She tugged at the strip of leather that held back his hair till it unraveled. His long, auburn hair fell forward, tickling her breasts as he made love to her.

His hand glided down her belly, setting her nerves to quivering. He stopped with his hand resting on the zipper of her black trousers.

He glanced at her, his hair wild and his eyes red. "May I give ye pleasure?"

Still a gentleman. Emma smiled. But his voice sounded gruff and his appearance was that of an untamed barbarian. She grabbed handfuls of his hair and pulled his head close to hers. "Make me scream."

His eyes gleamed hotter. "Ye will. Many times ere the night is over."

She almost came then. She squeezed her thighs together, relishing the sweet ache that thrummed deep within her. With a moan, she closed her eyes.

"Sweetheart, doona start without me." In a flash, he had her pants unzipped and pulled down to her ankles.

She kicked off her shoes and her trousers. He skimmed his fingers up her legs.

"I can smell yer scent," he whispered as he drew little circles on the inside of her thigh. "It tugs at my heart like the sweetest of perfumes." He leaned over to kiss her thigh.

Emma's skin tingled. Her heart raced. Moisture pooled between her legs.

He skimmed his hand beneath her red lace panties and gently explored the curls. "Yer first scream will come by my hand. The second one from my mouth."

He dipped a finger between the folds.

"Ye're as wet and fresh as the morning dew." He smiled. "So ready for pleasure. I could phone this one in."

"Don't you dare." She raised her hips to press herself against him.

"Patience, sweetheart." He rolled her panties down her legs.

"Patience? Some of us don't have an eternity." She kicked her panties off and watched the red scrap of lace fly across the room.

"I'm still limited. When the sun... " He paused, tilting his head as he studied her.

He touched the bare, delicate skin next to her narrow strip of curls. "I have never seen this... style before."

"Oh. It's a bikini wax." Was she his first modern woman? She liked that thought. And she liked the idea of showing him how a modern woman approached sex. She raised one leg to rest her calf along the top of the sofa cushion. Then she lifted her other leg over his head and let it rest on his shoulder.

His eyes widened at the sight she'd put on display. His jaw tensed. Suddenly he shifted his gaze to the ceiling.

Had she offended him by her boldness? "Do you think I'm too - "

"Too beautiful." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I doona want to lose control."

"Oh." That sounded like a challenge. How she would love to drive him over the edge. Or maybe not. What did a vampire do if he lost control?

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. The red color had mellowed to a warm glow. He kissed her leg hooked around his shoulder. "A man could spend a lifetime learning every shape and curve of yer body and count his life blessed."

She sighed. If he kept that up, she'd climax without him even touching her.

He skimmed his hand down her thigh toward her center. She watched his hand approach closer and closer. It was no surprise, yet still, she jolted when he finally touched her.

"Yer folds are slick and swollen. Engorged with blood."

She shuddered as his fingertips outlined each fold. He circled her clitoris, then tweaked it with his thumb and forefinger. She cried out.

"Even this" - he played with the nubbin - "it has swollen with blood and turned red like the most beautiful of blushes."

Tension spiked, and she writhed under his hand. "Angus."

"I need to kiss you." He lowered her leg from his shoulder and stretched out beside her on the couch.

"Yes." She wrapped her arms around his neck. He kissed her thoroughly, then invaded her mouth at the same time he inserted a finger inside her. With a groan, her back arched.

He stroked the roof of her mouth with his tongue in rhythm to the stroking of his finger. Tension coiled inside her. He broke the kiss when her breathing grew too labored and turned his attention to her breasts.

He drew her nipple into his mouth and gave it a tug just as he pressed against her engorged nubbin. She cried out again. The tension rose abruptly, and she panted for air. He rubbed her faster and faster.

"Oh God." She raised her hips to press against him.

"Oh bugger." He looked up suddenly. "What rotten timing."

"Wha... ?" The room swirled around her. She screamed when all the tension shattered.

"What the hell was that?" a man's voice boomed from the foyer.

Emma gasped, even while her body continued to throb with the most glorious shock waves. No, it couldn't be. Not him.

"Was that Emma who screamed?" the voice screeched.

Good heavens, it was him. Her boss, Sean Whelan, was in the foyer.

Angus placed a finger against her lips. As if she needed a reminder to be quiet?

"Release me, dammit!" Sean yelled. "One of your bloody vampires is torturing Emma."

A softer voice replied, "I canna release ye from yer restraints until ye calm down."

"Calm down?" Sean roared. "I'll show you calm, you bastard, when I put a stake through your heart."

He continued to shout while Emma gave Angus a frantic look. Bad enough for her to be caught half naked by his vampire friends, but by her boss? This was a disaster! What on earth could she say? She was trying out a new interrogation technique?

Angus enveloped her in his arms and whispered in her ear, "Trust me."

She was just becoming aware of her body again and Angus's arms around her, when they both dropped a few feet and tumbled onto the floor with a muffled thud.

"Oof." She struggled to breathe. Where was she?

"Sorry about the rough landing." Angus released her and rose to his feet. "It happens if ye teleport not standing up."

She sat up and glanced around the dark room. Moonlight filtered through three narrow windows, giving just enough illumination to make out the shapes of furniture, like dark squatting shadows surrounding her. Where was she? She scrambled to her feet, but the room spun around.

"Careful." Angus grabbed her to keep her from falling.

Good heavens, she was standing in a strange room, half naked. She hoped no one else was here. Dammit, she couldn't see. It looked like Angus was peering under his kilt. "What are you doing?"

He dropped his kilt. "Nothing. A silly habit."

Huh? She tamped down on a rising surge of panic. She could handle this. She'd been in sticky situations before. Of course, she'd always faced danger with her pants on before. She gritted her teeth. "Where are we?"

"Fifth floor of the townhouse. Roman's office."

"What? Roman's here?" She spun around, expecting his royal vampire highness to pop out from the shadows.

"He no longer lives here. I'm using these rooms now. Ye're perfectly safe."

"Safe? I don't think so. I'm feeling a bit... breezy, if you know what I mean." Her voice rose higher. "I'm half naked."

He gave her shoulders a squeeze. "But 'tis the good half."

"Not helping." She pulled away from him. "I'm half naked, and my clothes are on the ground floor."

"Doona fash. I'll fetch them for you."

She began to pace. "I'm half naked, my clothes are downstairs, and my boss is down there! If he sees me, or sees my clothes, I'll never work again."

"Relax. I'll take care of it."

"How? How can you possibly explain my underwear lying on the floor down there like a bright red beacon? It might as well have blinking neon lights." She continued to pace about in the dark. "I'm so screwed."

"No' entirely. But I'm still hopeful."

"What? I'm half naked, my underwear's downstairs with my boss - ouch!" She collided with a piece of furniture. "And I can't see!"

"I'm in pain!" She jumped up and down, rubbing her sore toes. "And I'm half naked, and I can't see. I bet you can see just fine, can't you, you bloody super Vamp."

"Emma." He grabbed her by the shoulders, led her to a long shadow, and sat her down. "Stay right here, take deep breaths, and I'll be right back with yer clothes." He disappeared.

Now she was alone, half naked, in pain, and couldn't see. She closed her eyes, took a big breath, and focused on regaining control. She was a professional, dammit. She'd faced the enemy many times and come through. She'd slain four vampires. She was woman. She was invincible.

She opened her eyes and let her sight adjust to the darkness. She was sitting on some sort of couch that felt like velvet. Across from her was a large rectangular piece of furniture. A desk. Something glowed faintly on top. A computer monitor, facing away from her. To her left were the windows.

She hooked her bra together and buttoned her shirt. She circled the couch and headed slowly across the room. The carpet was thick beneath her bare feet. From the light of one window, she made out a bar. She reached a wall and found a doorknob. Two doorknobs. She opened the double doors. More darkness. She felt along the wall and clicked on a light switch.

The room was empty, thank goodness. A large bed dominated the room, covered with a tan suede comforter. Very masculine. Was this where Angus slept during the day? Or rather, lay there dead as a doornail. The enormity of her situation punched her in the chest.

"Oh God." She turned away from the bed.

The light from the bedroom made it possible to see the office. The furnishings looked like valuable antiques. The couch where she'd sat was more like an old-fashioned chaise with one curved arm. A maroon chenille throw lay draped over the raised end. She wrapped it around her waist like a skirt.

She spotted a door and peered outside. The coast was clear. She stepped out and found herself on the top landing of the stairs.

"I'm not leaving here till I know she's safe!" Sean's booming voice echoed up the stairwell.

A man replied with a softer, calmer voice, but she couldn't make out the words. It seemed fairly certain, though, that Sean had to be in the foyer. That was good, if it meant he'd not been allowed into the living room where her clothes were lying about. But it was also bad, because there was no way she could get down the stairs without him seeing her. Maybe Angus could teleport her out. But that still didn't solve the problem with her clothes. With a silent groan, she padded back to the office.

A chiming noise came from the computer. E-mail.

Emma glanced back. She was alone. Of course, a vampire could teleport here in a second. She would have to be fast.

She rounded the desk and saw that a new message had arrived. The message was from Mikhail. The subject - E. Wallace's parents.

Her heart stuttered. Her parents? She clicked the message open.

Still investigating the murders of E. Wallace's parents. Attaching a list of all known Malcontents in Moscow during that summer.

Emma's heart raced as she opened the attachment. A list of eighteen names appeared. She recognized only one name - Ivan Petrovsky, and he was already dead. Of the remaining seventeen, two had to be her parents' murderers.

Seventeen vampires. Could she kill that many? Did she have any choice?

She clicked on Print and straightened.

"Did ye find something useful?" Angus asked softly.

The fleeting look of guilt on Emma's face did little to soothe the pain twisting in Angus's gut. How could she? How could she writhe under his touch, scream with pleasure, then spy on him at the first chance?

As the whir of the printer started, Emma raised her chin defiantly. "This is information about my parents. You said you would share it with me."

"Did a message arrive from my operative in Moscow?"

"If you're referring to Mikhail, yes."

"Then apparently ye're more up to date than I am."