"It is our business if ye intend to tell her our secrets," Connor grumbled.

Robby glanced at him. "Maybe ye enjoy being alone for yer entire miserable existence, but I'd like to find someone to share my life with."

Connor groaned. "Another hopeless romantic. And for yer information, I doona consider myself miserable."

Phineas snorted. "Show of hands. Who thinks Connor's a miserable old gasbag?" He waved his hand in the air while giving Robby a pointed look.

Robby smiled and lifted his hand.

Connor rolled his eyes. "I could insult ye both now, but I'll just wait till I have ye pinned to the ground, begging for mercy."

"We'll see who does the begging, bro," Phineas said.

Robby drummed his fingers on the desk. He didn't know what age he should claim. "How old would ye say I look?"

"I'd say...thirty-three." Phineas winced when Robby made a face. "I meant thirty. Not a day over thirty."

"How old were ye when Angus changed you?" Connor asked.

"I was twenty-seven." Robby gave Phineas an annoyed look. "Life was tougher back then. Everyone aged faster."

"Just make up a number, bro. How would she ever know the truth?"

Robby groaned inwardly. Sooner or later he would have to tell her the truth. "I'll say I'm twenty-nine." It sounded better than thirty, and he wouldn't appear too much older than Olivia.

Phineas rose to his feet and stretched. "Well, I've got to grab a few Bleers and meet Stan."

"I'll go with you," Connor offered.

The two Vamps strode from the office. Peace, at last. Robby went to work, finishing his message to Olivia.

Olivia arrived at work an hour early so she could continue her extracurricular research. She was still scouring the Internet, looking for any reference to Robert Alexander MacKay. The day before, she'd e-mailed MacKay S&I for information. All day long she'd checked her e-mail, anxious for a response. Nothing.

She'd called the warden at Leavenworth, and he agreed to send her a list of everyone who'd had contact with Otis Crump. The fax arrived in the afternoon, and she and J.L. had examined the list. The only people who had visited Otis were Harrison and herself. A number of people had mailed letters to him: his mother, his brother, and a few female admirers. The mother lived over a hundred miles away in Missouri. J.L. offered to go with her the next weekend to interview the woman. All Olivia needed to do was ask the lady if she was sending her apples. She would instantly know whether the mother was telling the truth.

Olivia downloaded her e-mail while she stashed her handbag in the drawer. Her breath caught when she saw the response from MacKay S&I. She clicked on it.

Dear O. Sotiris,

Thank you for contacting us. MacKay S&I is a premier investigative firm and provider of security for select clients worldwide. Founded in 1927, its headquarters are located in London and Edinburgh.

Robert Alexander MacKay is one of our most valued employees. He's an expert in firearms, martial arts, and fencing. He has recently served as head of security for Jean-Luc Echarpe, and is currently providing security for Romatech Industries in White Plains, New York. Age: 29. Height: 6'2". Weight: 220.

We would be hard pressed to find anyone as trustworthy as Robert MacKay.

Olivia sat back and read the last line again. It seemed almost identical to something Robby had told her on Patmos. She checked the e-mail address: info@mackays&i.com.

She read the entire message again. It was a favorable report where Robby was concerned, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he'd written the last line himself. In fact, he could have written the whole damned thing.

His grandfather owned the organization. He could have passed her request straight to Robby. She gritted her teeth. Dammit. Now she felt like a fool. Did he really think she wouldn't figure this out?

She hit Reply, then typed a message. With a grim smile, she hit Send. Take that, Robby.

All day long she checked for a response. Nothing.

By the time she left work that evening, she was beginning to doubt her initial conclusion. If Robby was behind this, he would have responded by now.

Robby woke that evening in his small room in Romatech's basement. One whole wing of the complex's basement had recently been transformed into guest rooms for the Undead. He quickly dressed, grabbed a bottle of synthetic blood from his minifridge, and dashed up to the MacKay security office. While his e-mail downloaded, he drank from the bottle.

He smiled when an e-mail from O. Sotiris appeared. He clicked on it, and his smile faded.

We regret to inform you that we may have wasted your time. The Robert MacKay we're looking for doesn't quite match up to your specifications. We believe he is older and quite a bit heftier than the one you mentioned.

"What?" He didn't look older than twenty-nine. And he sure as hell wasn't fat. He punched Reply.

Robert MacKay is in peak physical condition!

He clicked on Send, then winced. What if Olivia had figured out that he'd sent the original message? She could have laid a trap, and like a fool, he'd jumped right into it.

He finished his bottle, glaring at the screen. She'd probably left work for the day. He'd have to wait till tomorrow night for her response.

"Damn it to hell." Sometimes being a vampire was a bloody nuisance.

The next evening he dashed upstairs to check his e-mail. Sure enough, she'd responded that morning.

We at the FBI are willing to concede that Robert MacKay is in excellent physical condition. However, we are experiencing some major concerns regarding his mental faculties. He may not be the brightest lightbulb in the pack.

"What?" Robby slammed his bottle of synthetic blood on the desk. He hit Reply.

I'm smart enough to know when you're toying with me, you saucy wench!

He hit Send. "Take that, Olivia."

The next evening, he rushed to the computer. She'd responded to his last message from a new e-mail address that looked like a personal one. That was a good sign. It was Friday night, so maybe she was planning to correspond with him from her home. Maybe he wouldn't have to wait so long for her reply.

He clicked on her response.

And I'm smart enough to know when I'm being punked! Admit who you are, Robby. This wench is too saucy for you.

He snorted. She'd known all along it was him. A grin tugged at his mouth. What a clever lass she was. It was a good thing she'd moved from her business address to her personal one. His grin widened. Their correspondence was about to get very personal.

In her tiny apartment in Kansas City, Olivia lounged on the love seat in her pajamas. A half-eaten bowl of soup rested on the coffee table in front of her, next to an open package of saltines, her notes, and her laptop. The television was on, tuned to a news channel with the volume turned down to a soft drone.

The three letters from Robby sat on the cushion next to her. She'd brought them home so she could open them in private. She spread the letters out and scolded herself for waiting so long to open them. There was nothing sinister inside. Robby had written that he missed her, and he'd given her his phone number. Simple and to the point. No flowery purple prose with claims of everlasting love. No threatening remarks that indicated an alliance with Otis.

All her instincts told her that Robby was innocent and could be trusted. Still, she'd feel a lot better if she could find the actual person who was helping Otis.

Hopefully, she would tomorrow. She dragged her computer into her lap and clicked on Maps. Then she checked her notes for the address of Otis's mother.

The town in Missouri came up, and she wrote down some quick notes. J.L. had offered to drive, and he was going to pick her up in the morning. His car was equipped with a GPS navigation system, plus every other modern gadget known to mankind, so the trip should go smoothly. Thanks to her lie-detecting skills, she would know instantly if the mother was telling the truth.

Olivia clicked on her e-mail, and her heart did its usual flip when she spotted a new message from the MacKay S&I e-mail address. She checked the time. Why did Robby e-mail only at night? She'd had a good laugh when he'd called her a saucy wench. It sounded so old-fashioned, but maybe it was normal speech for a Scotsman. With her heart racing, she opened his latest message.

Aye, this is Robby. I have tasted you, wench, and you weren't too saucy. I thought you were perfect.

She gasped. That...that...

She clicked on Reply, typed Pig! and hit Send. How dare he joke about their most intimate moment? Her cheeks blazed with heat. Memories flooded back of Robby kissing her all over and giving her the biggest orgasms of her life. Thank God she'd taken this conversation off her official FBI address.

A new message popped up. So fast. Her heart pounded. She grabbed her glass of ice water off the coffee table and gulped down a few swallows. Then she opened the message.

Good evening, sweetheart. I have missed you.

"Oh, Robby." Now he was making her heart melt. She sent a message back: I missed you, too.

Within a few seconds, a new message appeared. May I have your phone number?

Her mind raced. Was she ready to get involved with him again? She hadn't found the guilty party yet who was helping Otis, so she couldn't swear with one hundred percent certainty that Robby was innocent. And it was so strange that she couldn't find any trace of him over the Internet.

What did she know about him, really? He'd been the one to send the information from MacKay S&I. He could be telling her all sorts of lies, and she had no way of determining the truth.

But how could she get to know him better if she refused to talk to him? With trembling fingers, she typed her cell phone number and pressed Send.

She jumped when her phone rang. Don't be silly, she chided herself. What did you think he'd do with the number?

She set her laptop aside and strode to her handbag she'd left on the console by her front door. The phone rang again. She retrieved it from its pocket inside her handbag and opened it. "Hello?"

"Och, 'tis good to hear yer voice again."

She bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud. The soft lilt of his accent and the deep timbre of his voice made a lethal combination. Her knees actually wobbled as she headed back to the love seat.

"Olivia? Are ye there?"

She collapsed on the love seat. "Yes. I'm here." Her heart swelled with a flood of longing. God help her, she still loved this man.

CHAPTER 15

Robby covered the phone with his hand and glowered at Phineas. "Go on with you."

Before dialing Olivia's phone number, Robby had told the young Vamp to do a security check of the grounds, but Phineas was loitering by the office door, grinning at him.

"You might need some assistance from the Love Doctor." Phineas motioned to himself. "I can provide the right words for romancing and entrancing your hot babe."

"I've got it covered," Robby whispered. "Go."

"Tell her she's sizzlin' hot. And bootie-licious."

"Piss off!"

"Excuse me?" Olivia asked on the phone.

"No' you," Robby told her, then made a face at Phineas as the young Vamp left the office, laughing. "My apologies. I needed to get rid of someone in the office, so we could have some privacy."

"You're at work?" she asked.

"Aye. I work at night."

"So that's why you e-mail only at night?"

"Aye."

"And you're working at Romatech Industries, the place that manufactures synthetic blood?"

"I work for MacKay S and I. My current assignment is Romatech." He frowned. This was not the fun, flirtatious conversation he'd hoped for. Why was she interrogating him?

"I read that two Romatechs were bombed last summer. Apparently, domestic terrorists were responsible?"

"Yes. Olivia, did ye receive yer jumper and the letters I sent?"

"You - you mean the sweater?"

"Aye."

She hesitated before mumbling, "Yes, I did. Thanks."

Something was wrong. Instead of her usual cheerful friendliness, she seemed a bit suspicious and guarded. "Ye left Patmos without warning. I was worried about you."

"I needed to take my grandmother to my father's house as quickly as possible. I was concerned for her safety."

"Because of the apples?"

She drew in a sharp breath. "How did you know about that? I didn't mention them in the note I left for you."

"Basic investigation. Ye told me about the bastard who's harassing you. I asked the woman at the taverna why ye'd left so suddenly, and she said something had frightened you. I asked her if ye'd received apples, and she said yes."

"Oh."

"I wish ye had stayed, Olivia. I'm an expert in security and investigation. I could have helped you."

"I-I'm used to taking care of myself. And I needed to get back here where I could check things out."

He gritted his teeth. Had it never occurred to her that he would want to help? Didn't she understand how deeply he cared for her? "So have ye discovered who sent the apples?"

"No. But I hope to make some progress this weekend. J.L. and I are driving to Missouri to interview Otis Crump's mother."

Robby's grip on the phone tightened. "Who is J.L.?"

"J.L. Wang. A special agent from the office. He's helping me get to the bottom of this."

"He?"

"Yes. He's a good friend. Oh..." She paused. "Are you...jealous?"

"Nay." Robby winced. "Yes, dammit. I should be the one helping you." He was tempted to teleport straight to her, but that would only cause more problems at this point. "I thought ye understood how much I care for you."