"Ta-da!" The man whipped open his coat.
Shit! He wasn't wearing any clothes at all. She grimaced. Just her luck to go vampire hunting and find a flasher.
"What do you think?" The man fondled himself. "Pretty impressive, huh?"
"Excuse me a moment." She let go of her stake and removed her cell phone from its holster on her belt. She'd call the local police to pick this guy up before he gave some poor lady a heart attack.
"Oh, is that one of those picture phones?" The flasher grinned. "Great idea! Could you put me on the Internet? Here, let me give you a profile shot." He turned to the side so his erection would stand out.
"Brilliant. Just hold that pose." Emma flipped open her phone. A dark shadow obliterated her view.
She immediately reached behind her back. False alarm. She released the stake. It wasn't a vampire. Even so, her heart raced, for there in front of her was the man in the kilt.
CHAPTER 2
He was even more stunning close up. Emma slapped herself mentally when she realized she was gawking at him. How could she forget he'd been looking under his kilt just minutes before? Why were men so obsessed with their equipment? She called into evidence exhibit number one—the flasher.
She glanced over her shoulder. He was still there. Still exposed. But the arrival of serious male competition had left him looking a bit… deflated.
"Are ye in need of assistance, miss?" The kilted man's soft burr caressed her nerves like a Highland breeze ruffling a hillside of heather. It brought back memories of happier times when her family had been alive and well, living in Scotland.
She frowned. She couldn't afford good memories. Not until the horrid ones had been thoroughly avenged.
"Is this man pestering you?" the Scotsman continued. His eyes were a vibrant green that sparkled with intelligence and something else she couldn't quite place. Curiosity?