Beth shifted sleepily and rolled onto her side, frowning when she searched for her pillow and couldn’t find it. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring through a tinted window at Scotty’s back.

Blinking in confusion, she glanced around. She was lying naked in the back of an SUV with Scotty’s linen shirt laid over her. It was her only covering. The moment Beth saw that, her memory came rushing back.

This was not the first time she’d woken. The first time she’d been on the floor of the garage. Scotty had awoken before her and was leaning over her, suckling at her breast as his hand worked between her legs, stirring her passions again. Beth had taken him by surprise and let him know she was awake by rolling him onto his back and quickly mounting him. The concrete had been cold and hard under her knees, but he’d been hot and hard inside her, and she’d ridden him until they both shouted their pleasure.

The next time, Beth had actually woken first to find herself lying on top of Scotty with her cheek on his chest. After a hesitation, she’d carefully eased herself up. She was standing with her feet on either side of his hips, about to move one leg so that she could go find her clothes, when his eyes opened and his hands rose to grab her calves. They’d stared at each other briefly, and then he’d sat up and kissed her inner thigh, and then higher, and Beth had grabbed his head to help her stay upright as he drove them both back to the edge of madness.

The third time she’d woken up, Scotty was carrying her around to the back of the SUV.

“The floor was cold,” he’d explained wryly when he saw she was awake. He’d set her down behind the vehicle then, and when he’d turned to open the hatchback, she couldn’t resist running her hands over his strong back and pressing her nose to his skin to inhale his scent. Scotty had stilled with the door open and then had turned with a groan to kiss her, his hands traveling everywhere. The next thing Beth knew, she was leaning into the back of the SUV and he was thrusting into her from behind, and they were both crying out again and embracing the darkness.

This was her fourth time waking up, and they were no longer alone, Beth realized as she became aware of the muffled male voices coming from outside the SUV. Clutching Scotty’s shirt to her chest, she sat up and spotted the man Scotty was talking to. It was one of the trio who had arrived that day. Magnus, the one who had apparently been spying on her for the last hundred years.

Turning away from them for now, Beth looked around for her clothes. But of course those would still be lying on the garage floor beside the SUV, she realized, and then sighed and quickly pulled Scotty’s shirt on. Beth tugged it closed in the front, but that was the best she could do. She’d been so desperate to get it off him, she’d ripped the damned thing open, popping all the buttons.

Sighing, Beth glanced out the window again. Scotty and Magnus were still talking, but they were also moving away from the SUV, and she was quite relieved to see that he was wearing his jeans. Whether he’d donned them before or after Magnus had arrived, Beth didn’t know, and she really supposed it didn’t matter. She doubted it had taken more than a heartbeat for the man to figure out what they’d been doing out here in the garage all this time.

That thought made her wonder just how long they’d been out here. How long did those bliss faints last when life mates mated? Beth had no idea, but if she were to go by the hunger cramping her stomach, she’d guess they’d been out here for several hours at least.

That distracted her for a moment, and then Beth realized Scotty was ushering Magnus out of the garage. Relieved that she could now get out and find her pants, she shifted to crawl to the hatchback and then paused to glance toward the two men. They were at the entrance. Magnus stepped out even as she looked, and Scotty leaned against the open door and nodded at something the man was saying.

Deciding that was probably the best time for her to do it, Beth opened the SUV’s hatchback and slid out, then rushed around gathering her clothes. She found her jeans first, and then searched for her underwear. They were nowhere to be found, but she did find her torn T-shirt and her bra.

Giving up on her panties for now, Beth quickly tugged her jeans on, did them up and found her underwear when they fell out of the bottom of her jeans. Grimacing, she snatched them up and shoved them in her pocket. She then turned her attention to her bra, only to grimace when she saw that it had been torn where it connected at the front between the two cups. Beth didn’t recall it happening. Actually, she couldn’t remember it being removed at all, but things had gotten a bit wild a time or two, so . . .

“Ye’re awake.”

Beth glanced around to see Scotty hurrying back toward her. Retreating from his reaching arms, Beth grimaced and said with a little embarrassment, “I need a shower. And we should probably go get those groceries. I’m rather hungry.”

“Ah, no need to get the groceries,” Scotty told her almost apologetically. “Odilia and Donny took care of that yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Beth echoed blankly, and then understanding struck and she asked with alarm, “It’s Sunday? What time—” The question died on her lips as she glanced toward the dirty windows and noted the light managing to get inside. It wasn’t the gray light of early dawn. In fact, it looked like the bright light of early afternoon.

“It’s all right,” he assured her. “It’s only eleven o’clock. We have time to get to the airfield.”

“Oh my God,” Beth breathed, rushing for the door.

“Wait, Beth!” Scotty followed on her heels. “We need to talk.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” she cried, pushing out into the sunshine.

“Because I wasn’t awake either. Magnus woke me up just moments ago to warn me that it was growing late.”

“Dear God, I need to shower, change, make sure I have everything packed and—I didn’t even get a proper visit with Matias. He’ll be annoyed with me. I—Dammit, I wanted to call Kira and be sure she is still returning with us. Bloody hell, I hope there’s room for everyone on the plane. She’s bringing her bodyguards, you know.”

“Nay, I didn’t know. But . . .” Scotty let his words die and slowed to a halt as Beth reached the back door and slipped inside. She was still rattling off things she had to do when the door closed behind her.

“So much for talking,” he muttered to himself and then gave a start when a wet nose pressed into his palm.

“Piper likes you,” Matias commented, making his presence known.

Scotty petted the Doberman and found it oddly soothing.

“I take it you sorted out everything with Beth?” Matias asked after a brief silence.

Scotty shook his head. “I meant to, but we just . . .” He waved vaguely toward the garage.

“Ah,” Matias said, sounding disappointed. “So, she hasn’t heard and accepted your explanation for why you had not claimed her?”

“Yet.” Scotty stressed the word. “I had not claimed her yet. I was always going to claim her eventually.”

Matias eyed him dubiously. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course,” he said firmly, and then added, “When we met she was traumatized by her experiences and her turn. I was just waiting for her to heal.”

“Are you sure you were not waiting to see if she would finally fall completely apart and you could have the three-on-one mind wipe performed on her?” Matias asked quietly. “A clean slate. No memories of her days in the brothel, so you could forget about that yourself?”

“That wasn’t—” Scotty frowned. “They are bad memories for her. I thought only to ease her suffering.”

“Oh, sí, of course.” Matias didn’t sound as if he believed him, and then he said, “When she told me about your wanting to perform the mind wipe on her, I did wonder . . .”

“What?” Scotty asked warily when Matias fell silent.

“I wondered what would have happened if you had managed to convince Dree to let you perform the three-on-one,” he admitted. “Would Beth have still been a possible life mate for you? Or would the removal of those memories of her past have changed her personality so that you were no longer suitable to be life mates? We are all shaped by our experiences, after all.”

“So you are a Rogue Hunter in the UK? How did you become one?”

Beth smiled faintly as Kira leaned toward Odilia with obvious interest. Other than the fact that Kira was a blonde and Odilia had long dark hair that was a blend of chestnut, umber, hickory and chocolate, the women were very similar. They were both beautiful, both stood about nine inches taller than her and both outweighed her by a good twenty pounds. Beth wasn’t surprised that Kira would be interested in the other woman’s experiences.

A laugh from the back of the plane drew her gaze, and Beth watched Scotty interacting with the men. He, Donny, Magnus, and Rickart had taken up positions leaning against the wall by the bathrooms when they’d boarded. Kira had shown up with all four of her bodyguards, and as Beth had feared, there weren’t enough seats on the plane for everyone. That being the case, the men had left the seats for the women. There would have been just enough seats if Scotty’s people hadn’t appeared on the scene, but now there was one seat going empty because none of the men would lay claim to it.

Rather like her, Beth thought suddenly. She was an unclaimed seat. Only there was only one man who should claim her, and he wasn’t interested. At least, he hadn’t said he was claiming her, or even asked if she would let him during all those hours in the garage. They’d just screwed like frantic bunnies until they ran out of time. Some women might have seen that as his staking a claim, but Beth wasn’t foolish enough to do so. Thanks to her life as a mortal, she’d had a lot of men in her bed, and watched just as many leave it. Sex—even wild, passionate sex—was not a declaration of anything. It was just sex.

“Please, tell me. Da?”

Beth glanced to Kira and shook her head with a small smile. Somehow the girl managed to make her plea sound like a royal command. That was a skill, and one Odilia apparently responded to, because she complied.

“I was turned in 1852 when a rogue immortal invaded our home one night while we were sleeping. I was ten,” the woman said, gaining Beth’s full attention as she realized that they were contemporaries of a sort. Beth might have been turned forty years later than Odilia, but she had also been forty years older. They had been born the same year. And the year Odilia had been turned was the year Beth’s father had sold her to a brothel.

“He roused the whole house,” Odilia continued. “And then he killed every living soul one after another—my parents, my sisters, and every last servant. He left me for last, and attacked me just as viciously as the others so that at first I felt sure I should soon join them. However, at the last moment he forced his blood on me and then left me lying in my own blood and that of my loved ones, to turn while he just walked out the door and disappeared—poof.” Odilia snapped her fingers to illustrate how quickly he’d left her life. “I woke up after several days of excruciating pain and wandered outside in search of help. Fortunately, Scotty and Magnus found me before I did anything that could make me rogue too.

“Of course, I couldn’t return to my home or my old life. I needed to be taught how to feed without harming my host, and how to hide what I was. Scotty took me in and helped me through my transition. He became my guardian. And then later, when I showed interest in becoming a hunter, he trained me to be one. I have been on his team ever since,” Odilia ended simply.

“This rogue was a monster,” Kira said, sitting back in her seat, her eyes wide. “I thought my father the only monster, but it seems there are worse monsters out there even than him.”

“Many, many monsters,” Beth said solemnly. “That is why Rogue Hunters are needed.”

Kira glanced to her, curiosity filling her expression. “And you, Beth? How were you turned? It was a rogue too, da?”

“Da,” she murmured and then said, “Oddly enough, it is a story very similar to Odilia’s.” Beth smiled at the other woman as she said that and received a tight smile in return. She’d found the woman a little standoffish since coming in from the garage that morning. At the time, Beth hadn’t known if it was just the hunter’s personality or if she’d taken an instant dislike to her for some reason. Now Beth wondered if perhaps the woman disapproved of what she and Scotty had got up to in the garage. Or perhaps Odilia didn’t think she was good enough for Scotty. He had basically adopted the other woman as a child and raised her. She supposed the woman could be protective of him and not think Beth good enough for the man who was like a father to her. But then, how else would Odilia feel? Scotty apparently didn’t think her good enough either . . . well, for anything but sex.

Pushing these thoughts away as unproductive, Beth explained, “As with Odilia’s family, a rogue entered our home one night and attacked each of us in turn. Only, he turned every one of us. Like her, we were left lying in our own blood to turn. But once those dark days were over, he hadn’t disappeared. He was there to tell us that we were his now, and that he expected us to lure men to the house to murder and rob them.”

“Did you do it?” Kira asked, wide-eyed.

Beth shook her head. “I couldn’t. I fled to find a friend for help, Alexandrina Argenis. She had been in our lives for many years by then, and we all knew that she was an immortal and what that meant, so I knew she could help. Unfortunately, by the time I found her I was in a bad way. She took care of me and helped me recover. Once I was cogent enough to recall the women at the house, I told her and we returned at once, but by then two weeks had passed and it was too late. They’d gone mad under this rogue’s abuses and had been attacking mortals, feeding off and killing them since my leaving. They were beyond help and immediately attacked us. As with Odilia, Scotty and his men saved us, but we did not stay with him. Drina was immortal-born. She took me to her family in Spain to help me through the transition. I was adopted into her family, and we trained together to become Rogue Hunters.”

Kira sat back with a gusty sigh. “These rogues, they are bad news. I think I will enjoy helping to stop them.”

Beth smiled at the words. “It can be satisfying work. Especially when you are able to save would-be victims.”

“Da. No doubt.” Kira nodded and then peered at her solemnly and admitted, “I suspected you were not an Argenis by birth. It is your eyes. They are green with gold rather than blue with silver. All Argeneaus, whether they go by the name Argenis, Argent, Argentum, or Argeneau, have blue and silver . . . or at least the silver.”

Beth merely nodded.

“What was your last name before you became Argenis?” Kira asked with interest.

“Sheppard,” Beth answered, surprised to find she had to think to recall it. The name even felt odd on her tongue. But then, she had carried the name Argenis more than twice as long as she had the name Sheppard. And Beth hadn’t felt at all bad at shedding her father’s name in the first place. While she had loved her mother, as far as Beth was concerned, she wanted no reminder or attachment to her father, even in name.

“Our footman’s name was Sheppard,” Odilia said now with surprise, and then added solemnly, “He was a good man. He tried to protect my mother from the rogue. Of course he couldn’t, and died horribly for the effort,” she finished, and then glanced at Beth curiously and asked, “Do you think he could have been a relation?”

“I don’t know,” Beth admitted. “I don’t recall having any family besides my parents and sisters, but he could have been related, I suppose.”

Odilia nodded and then tilted her head and commented, “You are rubbing your stomach. Do you need blood?”

“Probably,” Beth admitted with a grimace. “And food wouldn’t hurt either.”

“Do they keep blood on the plane?” Kira asked, glancing toward the kitchenette.

“Yes, I think so,” Beth said and stood to head for the galley, thinking she really should have taken the time to grab something to eat before leaving for the airfield. She’d intended to, but by the time she’d showered, changed and gathered her things together, Matias had been insisting it was time to go.

Stepping into the kitchenette, Beth glanced around at the wood grain cupboard doors, wondering which if any was the refrigerator, and then she just started opening them one after the other in search of blood, crackers or—hell—even peanuts or pretzels. She hadn’t eaten since the pizza Friday night. Well, technically, Saturday morning, she supposed. Now it was Sunday afternoon and she was famished.

The first cupboard held glasses and cups, and in the second she found plates and bowls. But the third held small bags of chips, peanuts and, yes, pretzels, but also bread sticks and crackers.

“Oh yeah,” Beth murmured, but continued opening doors until she found two small bar-sized refrigerators. One held blood, and Beth took a bag before opening the cupboard next to it to find the second refrigerator, which held fresh fruit, cheese, and dips.

“Jackpot,” she said happily and slapped the bag of blood to her fangs as she reached in with her free hand to grab a peach.

“Food.”

Startled by that deep rumble, Beth turned sharply and saw Scotty standing behind her, staring at the contents of the refrigerator. Even as she did, his gaze shifted to her and he growled, “I’m hungry.”

Judging by the way the silver in his eyes multiplied, Beth suspected he wasn’t just talking about food or even blood. She wasn’t surprised when he moved in close, caught her by the waist and lifted her to sit on the counter.

Beth’s eyes widened above the blood bag, but she merely held on to it and the peach a little more firmly.

“So hungry,” Scotty murmured, stepping between her legs. When the peach bumped against his chest, he glanced down at it with interest, and then he smiled and caught her wrist to lift it until the peach was in front of his mouth. He took a large bite, murmuring with pleasure as he chewed and then glanced to her hand and stilled. Beth followed his gaze and saw that juice had run from the open wound in the peach, making little rivulets down her hand and wrist and further to her elbow.

Swallowing the bite in his mouth, Scotty bent his head to catch the drop of juice that dangled from her elbow. He then followed the rivulet upward, making her skin tingle as his tongue scraped over her sensitive flesh, licking away the juices.

Beth was holding her breath as he licked her arm and wrist, but when his tongue slid over and between her fingers, she moaned and let go of the peach.

Scotty caught the fruit as it fell and set it on the counter. Taking advantage of the fact that her hand was now empty, he sucked one finger into his mouth to the base, and then let it slide back out before taking up the next and repeating the exercise.

Beth had never experienced anything so erotic in her life. Her body was trembling, her breasts hard and sore, and her legs were trying to close to ease the ache there. Scotty was between her legs, however, preventing that, and seemingly of their own accord, her legs closed around him, pulling him forward against her.

She moaned around the bag of blood at her mouth as Scotty rubbed against her. Head dropping back, Beth let her eyes close, and then blinked them open and lowered her head with surprise when the blood bag was suddenly tugged from her mouth. It was empty, she saw as Scotty tossed it on the counter, and then his mouth covered hers, his tongue thrusting past her lips as he ground his groin against her.

Beth gasped and then tilted her head and clutched at his shoulders as she kissed him back. She felt him grab her breast, and groaned as he kneaded it, her legs tightening around his hips and her heels pushing him more firmly against her to increase the friction.

Growling into her mouth, Scotty released her breast and then tugged her T-shirt from her jeans and pushed it up above the bra she wore beneath. That was quickly tugged down so that he could claim one swollen nipple.

“Did you find any foo—Oh! Sorry.”

Beth and Scotty broke apart at once and she peered blankly over his shoulder at Odilia, briefly confused as to who she even was. And that about summed up what Scotty’s touch, his real live touch, did to her, Beth acknowledged. She forgot everyone and everything except for how he made her feel.

“Sorry,” the woman repeated, flustered. “I was just hungry, but I’ll . . .” Whirling away, she rushed back toward the seats and out of sight.

Scotty remained still after she left, his head turned toward where she’d been, and Beth forced herself to slow her breathing and take deep, calming breaths. Once her heart had stopped thundering and the aching in her body had eased, she withdrew her hands and unhooked her legs from around him and then quickly put her clothes back in order.

“We should join the others,” she whispered, pressing on his chest with one hand to ease him back.

Scotty sighed and released her to comply, stepping away from her so that she could slide off the counter.

“Odilia is—”

“Your daughter,” Beth finished for him as she turned and retrieved a tray she’d spotted in one of the cupboards. She then quickly began gathering items—a stack of plates, crackers, cheese, fruit, the bread sticks, dip, and even several bags of blood and half a dozen cans of soda.

“You took her in and cared for her after her family was slaughtered and she was turned. That was kind of you,” she added.

“She was just a child,” Scotty said solemnly. “She’d lost everything.”

“She was lucky to have you save her.” Beth picked up the tray. Turning, she faced him and added, “I was too. Even if you did want to wipe my mind.”

Beth didn’t wait for a response, but slid past him with the tray.

“Is anyone hungry or thirsty?” she asked brightly as she carried the snacks toward the chairs where the women were. Beth wasn’t surprised when the men all immediately moved forward in the plane, eager to examine the offerings. She was quickly surrounded by both the men and women grabbing for various items, and felt sure she’d soon be returning to get more of everything, but then Scotty came from the kitchenette with a second tray stacked with food and blood.

“Set it on the table,” he suggested quietly. “And make sure ye fill a plate yerself and take a bag of blood. It’s been more than twenty-four hours since ye ate, and the one bag o’ blood ye just had’ll no’ do ye.”

Blushing, mostly because she was now thinking about why she hadn’t eaten in more than twenty-four hours, Beth piled food on a plate before snatching a bag of blood and returning to her seat.

She glanced toward Odilia as she sat down, but the woman was sitting silent and still, her eyes closed. Wondering just how awkward this was going to make things between them, Beth sighed and set the blood aside for now to concentrate on the food. She did her best not to think about Scotty while she ate, but that was impossible. Her body was still humming from what he’d done to her, and really he hadn’t done much. A kiss and a squeeze and she was as shaky as a virgin on her wedding night.

Closing her own eyes briefly, Beth pondered what it was he wanted from her. She knew he didn’t want her. Well, he did, but only in a physical way. As far as she could tell, Scotty didn’t want her for anything else, not as a mate, or he would have claimed her a century ago. So what were they doing? Was it a fling? An affair? And if so, how long was it supposed to last? Was this just a vacation thing for him? Over once he returned to England? Or were they just going to be eternal bed buddies, sleeping together every time they crossed paths over the next millennium or so, or until he came across another possible life mate who was perhaps more suitable?

Suddenly depressed, Beth opened her eyes and set her half-finished plate on the table. She then slapped the blood bag to her fangs and turned to stare out the window at the earth below. Everything looked so small from up here, she thought, and then smiled faintly and closed her eyes. Maybe this insurmountable problem fully occupying her mind, and seeming so large, was really just as small, a hiccup in her life. If so, wouldn’t she feel foolish for wasting so much energy on it?

In truth, Beth supposed it was foolish either way. Whether the problem was large or small in her life, sitting here fretting about it wasn’t going to solve anything. It wouldn’t even change the situation. She couldn’t change it. There was no way for her to make Scotty accept what she had done in her past, if that was why he wasn’t claiming her. All she could do was change her present behavior, which meant she had a choice—either she accepted that he could not and would not claim her as a life mate because of her past, or she whined and cried about it.

The choice there was an easy one. Whining and crying never achieved anything. So she had to accept it. That being the case, she now had two more choices: enjoy the fling—or whatever this was she was having with Scotty—for as long as it lasted, or protect herself, and avoid him at all costs until he left Canada. He wasn’t the only immortal out there. Surely there would be other possible life mates for her? She just might have to wait a millennium or two to find him.

“I would ask you what you are thinking, but since I can read your mind it is unnecessary,” Magnus said lightly, drawing a scowl from Scotty.

“Ha ha,” he muttered, not bothering to tear his gaze away from Beth to look at his friend. “Yer wit is staggerin’, Magnus.”

“I like to think so,” his friend admitted, and then arched an eyebrow at him. “So what is it that Matias said to you back at the house to get your knickers in such a twist?”

Scotty glanced at him in surprise. “Ye ken Matias said something, but no’ what he said?”

Magnus shrugged. “Your thoughts are mostly fretting over whether Matias was wrong or right, but not what about. So . . . what did he say?”

Scotty hesitated, but then admitted, “Matias thinks I wanted the three-on-one mind wipe performed on Beth because I can no’ accept that she was a—her past.”

“Hmm.” Magnus nodded solemnly. “I see.”

“Which is ridiculous. I suggested that because she was half-mad when we rescued her and suffering under the memories of what had been done to her. Wiping her mind seemed a kindness then.”

“And now?” Magnus asked.

Scotty frowned, but admitted, “She’s better now. As ye said in yer reports, she seems to have found a way to deal with it.”

“So, now you are glad you did not perform the mind wipe on her,” Magnus suggested.

“Nay,” he said at once, and then added, “She’d still be better off if it was done. It would be easier on her if she did no’ have to carry around all those memories about what happened to her. She’d be much happier without them.”

“Hmm.”

“I do no’ care that she—what she did.”

“Hmm.”

“That was over a hundred years ago. It has nothing to do with now,” Scotty assured him.

“Hmm,” Magnus repeated.

“Oh, stop with the hmms and say whatever ’tis ye have to say already,” Scotty muttered, turning to look at Beth again. Whenever Magnus nodded and hmmed, he had an opinion he didn’t think Scotty would like. Unfortunately, it was also something he usually needed to hear.

“I just find it interesting that you cannot seem to even bring yourself to give name to Beth’s profession as a mortal.”

“What?” he asked with surprise.

“You keep avoiding saying what Beth did,” Magnus pointed out almost pityingly. “You keep using phrases like ‘what she did’ and ‘her past,’ neatly avoiding calling her a prostitute.”

Glowering, Scotty turned back to look at Beth. She wore no makeup. Her skin was porcelain, with a light dusting of freckles across the nose. Her sweet, full lips were rosy despite a lack of lipstick, and when she blushed with embarrassment, or flushed with excitement, her cheeks also took on a rosy hue. She was petite, and she was beautiful, with the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. She did not look like a conniving, money-hungry whore.

“Feck,” he muttered as that last thought ran through his head. He did have issues with her being a prostitute. All this time he’d been telling himself that he was waiting for her to heal. And he had been, he was quite sure, but so long as he’d been waiting for her to heal and hadn’t been able to claim her, Scotty had been able to avoid dealing with the issue he had with her former profession.

“It is understandable that you would have issues with it,” Magnus said as if he’d spoken aloud. “We come from an earlier era, one that forged our morals and opinions. We were taught prostitution was an abomination to our Lord God. Of course you would struggle with it,” he said gently, and then added, “It is just a shame you were not admitting to yourself that this was a problem for you so that you could have dealt with it earlier.”

When Scotty merely grunted and continued to frown unhappily, Magnus said, “I suggest you avoid her for the time being, at least until you can sort yourself out. If you can accept her along with her past, including her years in a brothel, then all is fine and well. However, if you cannot, then it would be kinder to leave her be and allow her to get on with her life. But you cannot have it both ways.”

Scotty didn’t respond except to tighten his lips. He didn’t want to let Beth be. He wanted her in his life. He also wanted her in his bed, naked and moaning. He wanted to plunge himself into her over and over again until she forgot every last man she’d bedded over the years.

“You mean until you forget every man she may have had in her bed over the years,” Magnus said quietly, still reading his mind. “Because that is the problem, is it not? Beth has already left that past behind. It is you now struggling with it.”

Scotty closed his eyes. Magnus was right, of course. He was the one tormented by her past. He’d managed to ignore it and pretend it wasn’t an issue all this time because she was so damaged and had needed to heal. But now she had healed. He could claim her . . . if he could just accept her past and get over it.

“I advise you not to confess your issues to Beth,” Magnus said now. “She had a tough life as a mortal, and has worked hard to overcome it. I will not have you insulting or hurting her because of your own hang-ups.”

“O’ course I will no’,” Scotty muttered. He had no desire to hurt her. This was his problem.

“You should not sleep with her either,” Magnus added now, and when Scotty turned a surprised face his way, he pointed out, “Sleeping with her if you cannot ultimately bring yourself to claim her is cruel. And it would make you just as bad as the men in her past who used her for their own pleasure, or for profit.”

Magnus left him then, and walked over to sit in the empty seat next to Beth. He didn’t speak to her or disturb her rest in any way. He simply leaned back and closed his eyes. He was sending Scotty a message. Magnus was on Beth’s side. At least in this.

Frowning, Scotty turned away from the seating area and walked back to rejoin Donny and Rickart. He didn’t really enter into their conversation, but simply nodded and made the appropriate sounds at the appropriate times. In truth, his mind was on his own thoughts . . . and his feelings about what Beth had done as a mortal. Now that he was being forced to confront his feelings on the subject, he admitted that before meeting Beth he’d always thought prostitution to be the lowest of trades. He’d been raised to believe prostitutes were shameless, deceitful whores who cared only about coin . . . and he couldn’t bear knowing that Beth had once been one.

And that, he acknowledged, was a serious problem.