Well. She squared her shoulders. She didn’t want to get involved with a vampire, so there. They were even.
And alone.
It was a bloody shame. While all the Lycan males would want her for her werewolf status, Phineas rejected her for it.
Her heart sank even further. His red glowing eyes were probably nothing more than an indication that he was susceptible to the Three-Step rule. It was a theory she’d come up with years ago that at any given time, a man’s thoughts were only three steps away from sex. She should have known it would apply to Phineas. He was about the sexiest man she’d ever met. He was probably attracted to every woman he met, and his eyes were constantly turning red.
After all, he called himself the Love Doctor. And he was the Blardonnay Guy, too. Every woman who watched DVN wanted him. She had a sudden urge to slap his handsome face. And then kiss it to make it better. She groaned inwardly. The man had no right being so sexy. It had to be that damned vampire allure.
She glanced at him. He’d been quiet since they arrived, but she figured his brain was busy zapping the receptionist with vampire mind control. He approached the receptionist’s desk, staring intently at the woman sitting there. The nurse had gasped when they’d teleported into the waiting room, but now she was simply gazing at Phineas with a blank look.
He smiled at her. “I believe you had a patient here a few days ago with bite marks on his neck?”
Brynley joined him at the counter. “Can you tell us his name?”
The nurse looked at her, then shook her head slightly as if she were dispelling cobwebs from her mind. “Are you from the newspaper? We figured you guys would show up eventually with a bunch of questions, but I’m afraid I can’t discuss the case with you.”
Phineas leaned close to Brynley and whispered, “You messed up my control. Let me handle this.”
She shot him an irritated look, but he ignored her and refocused on the nurse, who soon regained her glassy-eyed blank expression.
“We’re from the Centers for Disease Control.” He whipped out his wallet and flashed a credit card at her.
“I see.” The nurse nodded. “How can I help you?”
“I’m Inspector Mc—” Phineas halted, obviously having second thoughts about using his real name.
“Man-boob,” Brynley finished for him.
He stiffened.
“What can I do for you, Inspector McMan-boob?” the nurse asked.
He gritted his teeth. “It’s muscle.”
“Inspector Muscle?” the nurse asked.
“Yes. Exactly.” He gave Brynley a triumphant look. “And this is my assistant, Nurse—”
“Doctor,” Brynley corrected him.
“Doctor . . .” He glanced down at her chest. “A-cup.”
“B-cup!”
He arched a brow. “You’ll have to prove it.”
She lifted her chin. “Maybe I will.”
With a smirk, he turned back to the nurse. “We need to see the file on the patient who came in with bite marks.”
She stood. “That would be Jason Pritchard. One moment, please.” She wandered into the adjoining office that housed the file cabinets.
Brynley leaned close to him and whispered, “I know why a Vamp’s eyes turn red. Vanda told us.” She stifled a grin when he visibly gulped. Let him worry about that for a while.
He glanced at her with a stern look. “We’ll discuss it later.” Again his gaze dropped. “Doctor B-cup.”
“Inspector McMan-bo—”
“It’s muscle,” he interrupted her.
“You’ll have to prove it.”
“Maybe I will.” He turned back to the nurse as she came forward with the file. “Thank you.” He opened it on the counter.
Brynley sidled up closer so she could see what was in the file. The top page listed all the vital information about Jason Pritchard.
Phineas handed that page to the nurse. “Will you make a copy of this for us, please?”
“Of course, Inspector Muscle.” She took the paper and strode into the adjoining office.
Phineas pointed at the bottom of another page. “He was released this morning.”
“Yes.” Brynley glanced over her shoulder when she heard the emergency room door opening, then quickly turned her back as a man entered and his scent wafted toward her.
Werewolf.
Beside her, Phineas stiffened. He opened his jacket, the side without the shoulder holster, then abruptly pulled her against his chest and covered her halfway with his jacket.
Brynley let out a surprised and muffled moan, her face pressed against his chest. A very hard chest. He’d been right about the muscle.
She listened to the werewolf’s steps as he approached the receptionist’s desk and came to a stop behind her. She winced. He would smell werewolf, too. Hopefully, he would think the scent was coming from Phineas.
“Where’s the damned nurse?” the werewolf growled. “I think I cracked a rib.”
“That’s gotta hurt,” Phineas said with a sympathetic tone.
Obviously, this werewolf wasn’t an Alpha, Brynley thought. Or he would have simply shifted to wolf form and back to heal himself.
“Yeah, I fell off a damned ladder,” the werewolf grumbled. “What are you here for?”
“Oh, it’s not me. It’s my girlfriend here. Betsy. She’s in a lot of pain.”
Brynley let out a miserable-sounding moan.
“There, there, darlin’.” Phineas patted her on the back. “We’ll get your medication. Don’t go psycho on me again, okay?”
Psycho? She pinched him underneath his jacket and heard him wince.
“She’s got leprosy, you know,” Phineas continued. “Goes a little crazy when a body part falls off.”
“What?” the werewolf squeaked.
Brynley smiled as she heard him scurrying to the other side of the room.
“Here’s your paper, Inspector Muscle,” the nurse said.
“Thank you,” Phineas answered. “Let’s go, Betsy.” He steered her toward the door with her face still hidden beneath his jacket.
She exhaled with relief as they stepped onto the sidewalk.
Phineas paused. “Okay, I released the nurse from my control, and she won’t remember us. Let’s go.”
Brynley ran around to the back of the building with him. “Leprosy? You made me a leper?”
“It worked. It kept the wolf dude away from you.” He stuffed the paper from the clinic into a jacket pocket as he scanned their surroundings. “Coast is clear. Let’s teleport back.”
With a smile, she slipped her hands around his neck. “Thank you for protecting me, Inspector Muscle.”
“Anytime, Betsy B-cup.” His dark chocolate eyes twinkled as he flashed his perfect smile at her, and a flood of desire almost knocked her off her feet.
She tightened her grip around his neck. She’d felt twinges before around Phineas, pleasant little bursts of lust that passed quickly, but this—this was a strong surge that swept over her entire body and clung to her, refusing to let go. This was a desire that went past the physical. It was seeping into her soul.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
He knows. She shook her head. “I’m in trouble.”
“We both are.” His eyes glinted with a hint of red, then everything went black.
Chapter Eight
Much to Brynley’s disappointment, Phineas simply let go of her when they arrived at the cabin. He didn’t even look at her, just retrieved the paper about Jason Pritchard from his jacket pocket and studied it.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Aren’t we going to discuss this?”
“Okay. This Jason dude lives in Sheridan. I think we should call his number and—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
He gave her an irritated look. “It’s what I’m talking about. I’m gonna drink some blood, then I’ll teleport to Jason’s house. You can come with me if you want.”
She glared at him as he strode toward the refrigerator. “I saw your eyes turn red twice now. Are you going to deny that you’re attracted to me?”
“No.” He stuffed a bottle of blood into the microwave.
Not the most romantic of confessions, but it still made her heartbeat speed up. “So you like me?”
He glanced at her. “Don’t get excited. Nothing’s going to happen.”
Ouch. “No need to be rude.”
“I’m just being realistic.”
“Well, good. That’s all I’m asking, that we both face reality. And the truth is we’re . . . mildly attracted to each other.”
He scoffed. “You call that the truth?”
“Yes.” She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “You already admitted you’re attracted to me. You can’t take it back.”
“I am attracted.” He retrieved his bottle of blood from the microwave. “But there’s nothing mild about it.”
The bottled water slipped from her hand and tumbled onto the wooden floor. She snatched it up quickly. “Damned thing is slippery.”
He took a sip of blood. “It’s simple. We’re here to do a job. We do it as quickly as possible, then go back to our normal lives and put this all behind us.”
She groaned inwardly. He thought that was simple? About as simple as torture. “What about our attraction?”
“What about it?” He strode toward the couch, then sat and stared at the empty fireplace. “It would be wrong for us to get involved. You know as well as I do that it could never work. And never last.”
She winced. Part of her acknowledged that he was right, but another part wanted to curl up on the floor and cry. It hurt. Hurt enough that she wanted to hurt him back.
He took a long swig from his bottle, then glanced at her. “How can you be attracted to me? Did you stop hating vampires all of a sudden?”
“No. I think you’re a disgusting bunch of parasites and users.” She gave him a wry look as she wrenched the top off her bottle. “But don’t take it personally.”
With a frown, he plunked his booted feet onto the coffee table. “Then it’s good you haven’t forgotten I’m a vampire.”
“No, I haven’t. That’s why I ignored my feelings for so long. You have to admit we’re horribly, dreadfully mismatched.”
He grimaced. “I wouldn’t say it’s that bad.”
“Oh, it is. A real disaster waiting to happen.”
His eyes narrowed. “I guess your father would find me totally unsuitable.”
“That goes without saying.” Though to be honest, she couldn’t care less what her father thought.
Phineas gritted his teeth. “He’d never accept a poor guy from the Bronx for his princess.”
She winced. She hated being called that. “I was never a princess. I was more like a pawn.”
When he gave her a curious look, she waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I refuse to let my father dictate my life.”