"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."