She huffed. "And you were such a nice young boy."
"Aye." He gulped down the last of his Bleer.
Cora Lee studied him, frowning. "If you got what you wanted, then why are you so grumpy?"
"I'm no' grumpy!"
Her eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, I get it. You haven't gotten laid yet. Maybe I can help."
Bloody hell, he could do his own hunting. He noticed the music's volume had decreased. The Indian dancer had left the stage, and the female natives were restless. He needed advice quick. "Is Vanda here? I need to see her."
"Just a minute." Cora Lee rushed to a table where a lady Vamp sat, chatting with a few male customers. "Pamela! You'll never guess who that fella is over there."
Was Cora Lee trying to set him up with Lady Pamela Smythe-Worthing? No. Hell, no. The Regency-era viscount-ess from Britain had also been in Roman's harem, and she'd spent fifty years sneering down her nose at him.
Lady Pamela stood and examined him. Her frilly Regency gown was gone. She'd completely embraced the modern age with a red miniskirt and black leather camisole.
"Oh dear, look at that shabby old kilt." Lady Pamela's snooty accent was still the same. "He must be another barbarian from Scotland. Doesn't anyone from that dreadful country die a natural death anymore?"
Ian arched a brow. She had to know he could hear her.
Cora Lee grinned. "Pamela, that's Ian!"
Pamela's eyes widened. "Surely you jest. I shall be quite overset if you're toying with me."
"It is Ian," Cora Lee insisted. "He grew a bunch."
"He certainly did." Pamela's gaze raked over him. "I must say, this brings to mind a question of the utmost importance."
"You mean how did it happen?" Cora Lee guessed. "He told me it was something he--"
"No." Pamela waved a dismissive hand. "The question is"--she leaned close to Cora Lee--"is he a virgin?"
"Land sakes!" Cora Lee giggled. "He did say he wants to get laid."
"Hmm." Pamela tapped a finger against her cheek as she considered. "A five-hundred-year-old virgin. This could be interesting."
Bugger. Leave it to Lady Pamela to make him feel like a circus freak. Ian turned his back to her and strode toward Vanda's office.
"Whoa there!" Cora Lee zipped over at vampire speed and blocked the door. "Vanda gets all riled up if we interrupt her while she's busy."
"Indeed." Lady Pamela sauntered over. "Vanda is the brains behind this business." She smoothed back her long blonde hair. "We're the beauty."
"We sure are." Cora Lee fluttered her eyelashes.
"Congratulations," Ian grumbled. Did the two ladies realize they'd just admitted to being brainless? He silently raised the attribute of intelligence on his wish list from number four to number three.
Cora Lee cracked the door and peeked in. "Woohoo, Vanda! There's someone here to see you."
"It had better be a sexy new dancer," Vanda growled. "Business is down this month."
"I say, capital idea!" Pamela gave Ian a sly grin.
He strode into the office.
Vanda glanced away from her computer screen. "Nice costume. Let's see what you've got under the kilt."
"Oh goody!" Cora Lee clapped her hands together.
"Indeed." Pamela shut the door behind them.
"I'm no' exposing myself." Ian crossed his arms, frowning. "And this is no' a costume." "Oh, the girls will love that accent." Vanda stood as she looked him over. She was wearing her usual purple catsuit with a black whip around the waist. "You'll need a plaid thong to match your kilt."
"With a red tassel on the end," Cora Lee added.
"Smashing," Pamela murmured.
"Could you make the tassel twirl?" Vanda circled a forefinger in the air. What the hell? Ian stepped toward her. "Vanda--"
"Come now, we're embarrassing the poor chap." Pamela sidled up to Vanda and whispered, "We think he's a virgin."
He glared at them. "Vanda, do ye no' recognize me?"
She smirked. "Honey, if I'd met you before, you wouldn't be a virgin."
Pamela laughed. "Now which one of us will have the honor of deflowering him?"
"We could draw straws," Cora Lee suggested.
"I'm no' sleeping with any of you," Ian growled. "Vanda, it's me, Ian."
"What?" Vanda blinked, then she narrowed her eyes. "No, I don't think so."
"Bloody hell." He ran a hand through his long hair and accidentally pulled a strand loose from the tied leather strip in the back. "I thought ye might cut my hair like ye used to. And I--I need to talk."
"Ian?" Vanda walked up to him, looking at him closely. "It's really you? What happened?"
"I know!" Cora Lee waved a hand in the air. "He ate something."
"You ate something?" Vanda gave him a dubious look.
"He could eat me," Lady Pamela murmured, casting him a seductive look from under her eyelashes.
Cora Lee pressed her fingers to her mouth and giggled.
"I canna say more on the matter." Ian motioned with his head toward Cora Lee and Lady Pamela. A secret would never be safe with them.
Vanda nodded slowly, then glanced at the two blondes. "You two check on the customers." "Humph. You just want the virgin to yourself." Lady Pamela strolled from the room, followed by Cora Lee.
Vanda shut the door, then walked back to Ian with a grin spreading across her face. "I can't believe it! You're all grown up." She hugged him. They had once been close in height, but now the top of her head reached his chin. "What on earth did you eat that made you grow older?"
"Doona repeat this, but I drank Roman's Stay-Awake drug. I took it twelve days, so I aged twelve years."
Her eyes narrowed. "But you're so much bigger and taller...it must have hurt."
It had. He shrugged. "My hair grew a lot, too. I thought it might need cutting."
She pulled the leather thong free from his ponytail and stood back to study him. "I don't think the short curls suit you anymore. You have a rugged look to you now."
Rugged? As in mountainous terrain? No wonder he was having such a hard time shaving. There'd always been a small dent in his chin, but now it felt more like a bloody crater. Actually, it was bloody half the time. Shaving without a mirror was damned hard.
"I like your hair long." Vanda circled her desk and retrieved a pair of scissors from the top drawer. "But it's a little ragged on the ends, so I'll give you a trim."
"Thank you." Ian sat in a chair facing her desk.
Vanda fetched a hairbrush from her handbag and went to work easing out the tangles. Ian closed his eyes, enjoying her familiar touch. She'd cut his hair for the last fifty years, and in that time, he'd confided more to her than anyone else. Even Connor and Angus.
He couldn't tell another man how frustrated he had been. Connor was his immediate supervisor, and a tough guy who would have interpreted his frustration as childish whining. Angus MacKay was the head of MacKay Security and Investigation and Ian's boss. He was also the one who'd saved Ian from certain death by transforming him in 1542. But Angus had struggled with guilt for trapping him with the body and face of a fifteen-year-old. Nay, he could never let Angus know how unhappy he'd been. But Vanda had understood and kept his secrets.
The scissors snipped. "When did you get back in town?" she asked.
"Tonight."
"You teleported here from Texas?"
"Nay. I was in Scotland."
"Oh." She continued cutting. "The last I'd heard you were in Texas, guarding Jean-Luc." "I was. Last summer."
The snipping sound ceased for a moment. "I heard Phil was there, too."
"Aye." Was Vanda interested in Phil? He'd been the daytime guard at Roman's townhouse when the harem lived there. As far as Ian knew, Phil had kept his distance from the ladies. It was one of Angus's cardinal rules. A guard never ever became involved with his charges.
Vanda went back to cutting. "So how is Phil?"
"Fine." Ian wondered if she knew about Phil's secret.
"Is he coming back to New York?"
"Eventually. He's training someone to be Jean-Luc's new daytime guard." Meanwhile, Connor had hired a new mortal guard, Tony, to live at the townhouse while they waited for Phil to return. Ian hadn't met him yet, but he wondered if Tony was a shape shifter, too.