How To Marry A Millionaire Vampire (18 page)

“I can’t believe this is happening to me.” She perched on the edge of the bed. But it was happening. It was all true.

The microwave dinged. Roman removed the bottle and filled a glass with warm blood. Shanna shuddered.

He took a sip, then turned to face her. “I’m a coven master. That means I’m personally responsible for the safety of the members of my coven. By protecting you, I have antagonized an old enemy—Ivan Petrovsky, the Russian vampire who wants to kill you. He could declare war on my coven.”

He wandered toward an easy chair and set his drink down on the small table beside it. He ran a fingertip along the edge of the glass. “I regret not telling you everything, but at the time, I thought it best to keep you as ignorant as possible.”

Shanna didn’t know what to say, so she sat there, watching him as he sank into the chair. He yanked at his bow tie till he unraveled the strip of black silk. He seemed so normal and lifelike, talking about people he felt responsible for. Tilting to the side, he rested his forehead on his hand and rubbed his brow. He looked tired. After all, he was responsible for a huge business and apparently a large group of followers.

And now they were in danger because of her. “Protecting me has caused you a lot of trouble.”

“No.” He shifted in his chair and looked at her. “The animosity between Petrovksy and myself goes back hundreds of years. And protecting you has brought me the most joy I have felt in a very long time.”

She swallowed hard as more tears welled in her eyes. God help her, she’d enjoyed their time together, too. She loved making him laugh. She loved being in his arms. She’d loved everything about him until she’d discovered his live-in girlfriends.

With a small gasp, she realized that her chief source of anger and frustration always centered on his harem. She could understand why he hadn’t told her he was a vampire. Who would want to admit to being a demon? And besides, he had to protect more than himself. He had a whole coven of followers to protect. His reluctance to confide in her was understandable. And forgivable.

And the fact that he was a demon—well, that seemed open to interpretation. After all, he was saving millions of human lives every day with his synthetic blood. And he was protecting lives by providing other vampires with a different food source. In her heart, she knew there was no evil in Roman. She would have never been so attracted to him, otherwise.

No, the problem was the harem. Good God, she was willing to forgive him for everything but that. Why should the harem stick in her craw? She closed her eyes as the tears threatened to overflow. It was simple jealousy. She wanted him to herself.

But he was a vampire. She could never have him.

She glanced his way. He was still watching her, but now he was doing it while he sipped blood. Oh jeez. What could she possibly say? She blinked away the tears and steeled her nerves. “This is a nice room. Why did you have it built?”

“There have been a few attempts on my life. Angus MacKay designed this room as a sanctuary from the Malcontents.”

“Malcontents?”

“That’s what we call them. They call themselves the True Ones, but in truth, they’re nothing more than terrorists. They’re a secret society who believes in their Satan-given right to feed off mortals.” Roman lifted his glass. “To them, drinking this synthetic blood is an abomination.”

“Oh. And since you invented it, they really don’t like you.”

He smiled slightly. “No. They don’t care for Romatech, either. They’ve launched several grenades at us in the past few years. That’s why I have so much security here and at home.”

Vampire security guards who slept in coffin dormitories. Shanna hugged herself while she let this new reality sink in. Roman finished his drink and walked over to the kitchen area. He rinsed the glass out and set it in the sink.

“So you’re telling me there are two kinds of vampires— the bad Malcontent guys who feed off mortals, and then the good guys like you.”

Roman pressed his palms down on the marble countertop, his back to her. He seemed perfectly still, though she could tell he was breathing rapidly, struggling with some kind of inner demon. Himself.

He slammed a fist against the marble so suddenly, she jumped. He whirled around to face her, his face harsh, his eyes gleaming. He stalked toward her. “Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking I’m good. I have committed more crimes than you can imagine. I have murdered in cold blood. I have transformed hundreds of mortals into vampires. I have doomed their immortal souls to an eternity in hell!”

Shanna sat motionless, shaken to the core, frozen by the intensity of his eyes. Murderer. Maker of vampires. Good God, if he wanted to scare her, he was doing one hell of a fine job. She leaped to her feet and dashed to the door. She had flipped open two locks before he grabbed her from behind.

“Dammit, no.” He shoved her aside and turned the first lock. With a hissing intake of breath, he pulled his hand away.

Shanna saw the welts forming on his fingertips, smelled the terrible odor of burning flesh. “What—?”

Gritting his teeth, he reached for the second lock.

“Stop!” She pushed his hand away and set the lock herself. Sheesh, what was she doing?

He cradled his injured hand against his chest, his face pale with pain.

“You burned yourself,” she whispered. Was he that desperate to keep her safe? She reached for his hand. “Let me see.”

He stepped back. “It will heal while I sleep.” He glared at her. “Don’t do that again. Even if you get out the door, you won’t get two feet before I catch you.”

“You don’t have to make me sound like a prisoner.”

He walked to the fridge and grabbed a handful of ice. “You’re under my protection.”

“Why? Why are you so determined to protect me?”

He stood at the sink, rubbing an ice cube over his seared fingers. Shanna finally decided he wasn’t going to answer. She trudged back to the bed.

“You’re special,” he said softly.

She halted by the bed. Special? She closed her eyes. God, this man made her heart ache. Despite everything, she wanted to hold him in her arms and comfort him. “You could kill me yourself, and the Russian mob would probably pay you.”

He tossed the ice into the sink. “I could never harm you.”

Then, why did he want her to believe the worst of him? He’d described himself as evil. She sat down heavily on the bed. Oh God, was that how he saw himself? As a loathsome, evil creature? No wonder he suffered from so much pain and remorse. “How long have you been a… ?”

“A vampire?” He turned to face her. “Say it, Shanna. I’m a vampire.”

Her eyes misted. “I don’t want to. It doesn’t fit you.”

He regarded her sadly. “I went through a period of denial, too. Eventually I got over it.”

“How?”

His mouth thinned. “I got hungry.”

Shanna shivered. “You fed off people.”

“Yes. Until I invented synthetic blood. The purpose of Romatech is to make the world safe for vampires and mortals alike.”

She knew it. She knew he was a good man, even if he couldn’t see it himself. “What else can you do? I mean, other than teleport or sizzle on a silver platter.”

His eyes softened. “I have heightened senses. I can hear at a distance and see in the dark. With a good sniff, I can tell you’re Type A Positive.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “My favorite flavor.”

Shanna winced. “In that case, feel free to use the fridge.”

He smiled.

Damn, he was too good-looking for a demon. “What else? Oh, right. You can move faster than a speeding bullet.”

“Only when I want to. Some things are better done slowly.”

She gulped. Was he flirting with her? “Do you turn into a bat and fly around?”

“No. That’s an old superstition. We can’t change form or fly, but we can levitate.”

“Don’t you need to go back to your party? And your friends?”

With a shrug, he leaned against the counter. “I’d rather be here with you.”

Now for the killer question. “Did you want to become a vampire?”

He stiffened. “No, of course not.”

“Then how did it happen? Were you attacked?”

“The details are not important.” He wandered toward the easy chair. “You don’t want to hear it.”

She took a deep breath. “I do. I want to know everything.”

He looked uncertain as he unbuttoned his jacket. “It’s a long story.”

“Go for it.” She attempted a wry smile. “I’m a captive audience.”

Roman leaned back in the easy chair and stared at the ceiling. He had serious doubts about this. The last time he’d told this story to a woman, she’d wanted to kill him.

He took a deep breath and began. “I was born in a small village in Romania in 1461. I had two brothers and a little sister.” He tried to conjure up their faces, but his memory was too vague. He’d had such a short time with them.

“Wow,” Shanna breathed. “You’re over five hundred years old.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“Go on,” she urged. “What happened to your family?”

“We were poor. Times were difficult.” The red blinking light in the corner over the bed caught his attention. The digital surveillance camera was working. He sliced the air with a cutting motion, and within seconds, the red light was off.

He continued with his story. “My mother died in childbirth when I was four. Then my sister died. She was only two.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“When I was five, my father took me to a local monastery and left me there. I kept thinking he would come back. I knew he loved me. He’d hugged me so tightly before he left. I refused to sleep on the pallet the monks gave me. I insisted my father would come back.” He rubbed his forehead. “Eventually the monks grew tired of my complaining and told me the truth. My father had sold me to them.”

“Oh no. That’s terrible.”

“I tried to console myself, thinking my father and brothers were doing well, eating like kings off all the money I earned for them. But the truth was I was sold for a sack of flour.”

“That’s awful! They must have been desperate.”

“They were starving.” Roman sighed. “I used to wonder why I was the one my father chose to give away.”

Shanna leaned forward. “That’s how I felt when my family sent me to boarding school. I kept thinking they were mad at me, but I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong.”

“I’m sure you did nothing wrong.” Roman met her gaze. “The monks discovered I was eager to learn and easily taught. Father Constantine said that was why my father chose me. He understood I was the best suited of my brothers for intellectual pursuits.”

“You mean you were punished for being the smartest.”

“I wouldn’t call it punishment. The monastery was clean and warm. We never went hungry. By the time I was twelve, my father and brothers were all dead.”

“Oh, jeez. I’m sorry.” Shanna grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and dragged it into her lap. “My family is still alive, thank goodness, but I know what it’s like to lose them.”

“Father Constantine was the healer in the monastery, and he became my mentor. I learned all I could from him.He said I had a gift for healing.” Roman frowned. “A gift from God.”

“So you became a doctor, of sorts.”

“Yes. There was never any question in my mind what I wanted to do. I took my vows at the age of eighteen and became a monk. I swore to ease the suffering of mankind.” Roman’s mouth twisted. “And I swore to reject Satan and all his evil guises.”

Shanna hugged the pillow to her chest. “What happened then?”

“Father Constantine and I traveled from one village to another, doing all we could to heal the sick and ease suffering. There weren’t many educated physicians at the time, especially for the poor, so we were very much in demand. We worked long, hard hours. Eventually Father Constantine grew too old and frail for it. He stayed at the monastery, and I was allowed to go forth on my own. A mistake, perhaps.” Roman smiled wryly. “I wasn’t nearly as smart as I thought I was. And without Father Constantine to guide me and give wise counsel…”

Roman closed his eyes, briefly recalling the wrinkled, weathered face of his adopted father. Sometimes, when he was alone and in the dark, he could almost hear the old man’s soft voice. Father Constantine had always given him hope and encouragement, even when he had been a young and frightened child. And Roman had loved him for that.

A picture flashed in his mind. The monastery in ruins. The dead bodies of all the monks strewn about in the rubble. Father Constantine ripped apart. Roman covered his face to try to block out the memory. But how could he? He had brought their death and destruction upon them. God could never forgive him.

“Are you all right?” Shanna asked softly.

Roman dragged his hands down his face and took a shaky breath. “Where was I?”

“You were a traveling doctor.”

Shanna’s expression of sympathy made it hard to stay in control, so he shifted his gaze to the ceiling. “I traveled far into areas that are now Hungary and Transylvania. In time, I ceased to bother with priestly trappings. My tonsure grew out. My hair grew long. But I kept my vows of poverty and celibacy, so I was convinced that I was good and righteous. God was on my side. News of my healing capabilities preceded me, and I was welcomed into each village as an honored guest. A hero, even.”

“That’s good.”

He shook his head. “No, it was not. I had sworn to reject evil, but I slowly succumbed to a deadly sin. I became proud.”

She snorted. “What’s wrong with taking pride in your work? You were saving lives, weren’t you?”

“No. God was saving them through me. I forgot to see the distinction. Then it was too late, and I was cursed for all eternity.”

She gave him a doubtful look as she hugged the pillow.

“I was thirty years old when I heard rumors of a village in Hungary. The people there were dying one by one, and no one knew why. I’d had some success with the plague by enforcing strict quarantines and rules of sanitation. I… I thought I could help this village.”

“So you went.”

“Yes. In my pride, I thought I would be their savior. But when I arrived, I discovered the village wasn’t plagued by a disease, but by hideous, murderous creatures.”

“Vampires?” she whispered.

“They had taken over a castle and were feeding off the local people. I should have requested help from the Church, but in my vanity, I thought I could defeat them by myself. After all, I was a man of God.” He rubbed his brow, trying to erase the shame and horror of his downfall. “I was wrong. On both counts.”

She winced. “They attacked you?”

“Yes, but they didn’t leave me to die like the others. They transformed me into one of their kind.”

“Why?”

Roman scoffed. “Why not? I was their pet project. Turning a man of God into a demon from hell? It was a perverse game for them.”

Shanna shuddered. “I’m so sorry.”

Roman lifted his hands. “It’s done. A pathetic story, really. A priest so immersed in his own pride that God saw fit to abandon him.”

She stood, her eyes filled with pain. “You think God abandoned you?”

“Of course. You said it yourself. I’m a blood-sucking demon from hell.”

She made a face. “I tend to be a bit dramatic at times. But now I know the truth. You were trying to help people when the bad guys attacked you. You didn’t ask for it any more than I asked the Russian mafia to attack me and Karen.” Her eyes shimmered with moisture as she slowly approached him. “Karen didn’t ask to die. I didn’t ask to lose my family or spend my life being hunted. And you didn’t ask to become a vampire.”

“I got what I deserved. And I became one of the bad guys, as you put it. You can’t make me good, Shanna. I’ve done terrible things.”

“I… I’m sure you had your reasons.”

He shifted forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Are you trying to exonerate me?”

“Yes.” She stopped beside his chair. “The way I see it, you’re still the same man. You invented synthetic blood to keep vampires from feeding off people, right?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you see?” She knelt beside him so she could see his face. “You’re still trying to save lives.”

“It hardly makes up for the lives I have destroyed.”

She looked at him sadly with tears in her eyes. “I believe there is good in you. Even if you can’t believe it.”

He swallowed hard and blinked to keep his own eyes from filling from tears. No wonder he needed Shanna. No wonder he cared for her so deeply. After five hundred years of despair, she’d touched his heart and planted a kernel of hope that had never existed before.

He stood and pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly and never wanted to let her go. God’s blood, he would do anything to be the man she believed him to be. He would do anything to be worthy of her love.

Ivan smiled at Angus MacKay. The huge Scotsman was pacing back and forth in front of him, glowering at him as if a few ferocious looks could actually scare him. The Highlanders had surrounded them as soon as Ivan and his entourage had entered the ballroom. Ivan, Alek, Katya, and Galina were escorted to a far corner and told to sit. With a nod, Ivan had let his followers know that they would comply. He made himself comfortable in the corner, flanked by his companions. The Scotsmen spread before them, each one fingering the leather hilt of his silver-plated dagger and looking eager to use it.

The threat was clear. A stab through the heart and Ivan’s long existence would be over. The threat didn’t scare him, though. Ivan knew he and his companions could simply teleport from the building whenever they liked. But for now, he was having too much fun playing with his alleged captors.

Angus MacKay marched back and forth in front of his men. “Tell me, Petrovsky, why are ye here tonight?”

“I was invited.” He slipped his hand beneath his cummerbund.

In unison, the Highlanders took a threatening step forward.

Ivan smiled. “I’m just taking out my invitation.”

Angus crossed his arms. “Proceed.”

“Your boys are a bit high-strung,” Ivan observed dryly. “No doubt it has something to do with wearing skirts.”

A low growl emanated from the Highlanders. “Let me skewer the bastard,” one of them muttered.

Angus held up a hand. “All in good time. For now, we havena finished our wee chat.”

Ivan removed the paper from his cummerbund and unfolded it. The cellophane tape connecting the two halves gleamed in the overhead lighting. “This is our invitation. As you can see, we were undecided for a while, but finally my ladies here convinced me that it would be a… blast.”

“Exactly.” Katya twisted to the side in her chair and crossed her legs so everyone could see her bare leg and hip. “I just wanted a bit of fun.”

MacKay lifted a brow. “And what is yer idea of fun? Were ye planning to kill someone tonight?”

“Are you always this rude to your invited guests?” Ivan dropped the invitation on the floor and glanced at his watch. They’d been here fifteen minutes. By now, Vladimir should be locating the storage compartments of synthetic blood. The True Ones were about to strike a major victory.

MacKay towered over him. “Ye keep looking at yer watch. Give it to me.”

“You’ve already emptied my pockets. Are you a pack of thieves?” Ivan took his time removing the watch. MacKay knew he was up to something. He just needed to stall for more time. With a resigned sigh, he placed the watch in MacKay’s hand. “It’s an ordinary watch, you know. I keep looking at it because so far, this party has been a dreadful bore.”

“It is.” Galina pouted. “No one has even danced with me.”

MacKay handed the watch to one of his men. “Examine it.”

With a tilt of his head, Ivan spotted the French coven master entering the ballroom with another Highlander.

Most of the guests turned to admire the Frenchman as he strolled across the room. Jean-Luc Echarpe. What a pathetic excuse for a vampire. Instead of feeding off mortals, the silly Frenchman was dressing them. And getting filthy rich in the process.

Ivan jerked his head to the side, causing a loud crack. That got everyone’s attention. The guests were now focused on him. Ivan smiled.

Angus MacKay gave him a curious look. “What’s the matter, Petrovsky? Is yer head not screwed on properly?”

The Highlanders chuckled.

Ivan’s smile faded. Go ahead and laugh, you fools. When the explosives go off, we’ll see who’s laughing then.

Shanna stiffened in Roman’s arms. She had wanted to give him comfort, but now that he was taking it, she was a little spooked by the fact that she was hugging a vampire. This was going to take a while to get used to. She pulled back, sliding her hands from his shoulders to his chest.

He kept a loose hold on her and studied her face. “Second thoughts? You haven’t decided to kill me, have you?”

“No, of course not.” She studied her right hand where it rested against his chest. Over his heart. The thought of a stake piercing him there was too awful to contemplate. “I could never hurt—” She blinked and looked at him in shock. “You have a heartbeat. I can feel it.”

“Yes. But when the sun rises, it will stop.”

“I—I thought—“

“That nothing in my body worked? I walk and talk, don’t I? My body is digesting the blood I consumed. For my brain to function, it must be supplied with blood and oxygen. I need air in order to talk. None of this would be possible without a beating heart to supply blood throughout my body.”

“Oh. I just thought vampires were…”

‘Totally dead? Not at night. You know my body reacts to you, Shanna. You’ve known that since the first night we were in the backseat of Laszlo’s car.”

Her face heated with a blush. His huge erection certainly proved how well his body functioned once the sun went down.

He touched her warm cheek. “I’ve wanted you since that first night.”

She moved out of his reach. “We can’t…”

“I would never hurt you.”

“Can you be sure about that? Do you have complete control over your… ?”

His jaw clenched. “My evil impulses?”

“I was going to say your… appetite.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I—I care for you, Roman. And I’m not just saying that out of gratitude for you rescuing me. I really do care. And I hate the way you’ve been suffering for so long—“

“Then be with me.” He reached for her.

She stepped back. “How can I? Even if I can deal with the fact that you’re a—a vampire, there’s still the live-in girlfriends. The harem.”

“They don’t mean anything to me.”

“They mean a lot to me! How can I possibly ignore the fact that you’re screwing ten women on the side?”