The room was totally dark. She fumbled along the wall by the doorjamb until she located a light switch. A lone lightbulb turned on, situated over a large desk. Bookcases sat behind it and a red velvet chaise in front. Her heart lurched at the sight of the computer on the desk. It could be the answer to her prayers.
The large room stretched back into shadow. Toni could make out the shape of more chairs, a table, and a wet bar. At the far end of the room, she spotted the dark wooden paneling of a set of double doors.
She crossed the room, her bare feet silently cushioned on the thick carpet, her gaze sliding past expensive antiques. So this was the private lair of a powerful vampire coven master? Maybe she should take some photos with her cell phone. No, it wouldn't help Sabrina. The lush decor only proved that the owner was rich, not Undead.
As she approached the double doors, she heard a beeping sound like a phone off the hook. She shoved open the doors. The shadow of a huge bed loomed before her with a darker shadow on top. She skirted the bed to the right and fumbled with the lamp on the bedside table. A dim light, no brighter than a night-light, came on.
There he was on the far side of the king-sized bed, lying on top of a tan suede comforter. His face was turned away from her, so all she could see was his thick black hair and the ponytail that curled on top of the pillow.
Some men might look effeminate with shoulder-length hair and a skirt, but on Ian, the effect was quite the opposite. There was something wild and rugged about him, like a Scottish warrior who refused to be civilized. Just the sight of him made her heartbeat quicken and thoughts of rebellion sneak into her head.
He rested on his back, his long length stretching to the foot of the bed. Her gaze wandered over the white T-shirt, tightly molded to a broad chest and muscular abs. His red and green plaid kilt lay rumpled about his legs, the hem rucked up past his knees. It looked like he'd simply fallen onto the bed without caring how he landed.
Toni edged around the bed, passing by his huge feet encased in black socks. The old wives' tale about men with big feet must be true. Her gaze drifted back to his kilt. His legs were spread apart with the plaid fabric draped slightly between them. What a shock it had been to realize the guy didn't wear any underwear. Her face grew warm, remembering the amused tilt of his mouth and the glint in his eyes. No shame whatsoever. No, he'd looked…bold, as if he'd enjoyed her surprise inspection.
She tilted her head, focused on the dark, shadowy area between his thighs. Slowly, she leaned to the side.
Cum on feel the noize!
With a gasp, she straightened. What had gotten into her? The man was dead, and she was trying to look up his skirt? Thank God there were no cameras up here.
She opened her phone. "It's okay, Howard. I've got Ian here. He's in bed."
There was a pause.
"Girl, you have a man in your bed?"
Toni winced. "Carlos! I–I wasn't expecting you."
He chuckled. "I realize that, menina. So, who is this guy in your bed?"
"He's not in my bed, and it's not—"
"Oh, you're at his place?"
"Well, yes, sorta." Toni shoved her damp hair behind her ears. "Look, Carlos, I can't talk right now." At the sound of his suggestive chuckling, she huffed. "It's not what you think. The guy is really…dead right now."
"You wore him out? You go, girl."
Toni groaned. Maybe it was his Brazilian heritage, but her next-door neighbor, Carlos Panterra, had a one-track mind. "Carlos, is everything fine at the apartment?"
"Yes, of course. I was just feeding your cat. She says she misses you and Sabrina. I do, too."
"I know. We'll be back soon, I hope. Now I've got to go before Howard calls."
Carlos gasped. "You have two men? Girl, you are hot!"
"It's not—never mind. I'll explain later." She moved up the side of the bed.
"It's that new ringtone I put on your phone," Carlos continued. "Now you're rocking the boys big time."
"Yeah, right. Bye, Carlos." Toni snapped her phone shut and dropped it in her pocket. It was a stinking shame she was so inept at modern technology. She had no idea how to remove the ringtone Carlos had cursed her phone with.
Speaking of phones, there was still a beeping one on the bed with Ian. He'd obviously been holding it next to his ear, but now his fingers were relaxed, curling slightly where they rested on the pillow. The receiver must have slid down the pillow, for it was now nestled in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His head was turned toward her, his eyes shut.