How To Marry A Millionaire Vampire (7 page)

“My private rooms.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Oh, Lordy. She reached the fourth floor and stopped to catch her breath. A kilted guard stood in the shadows. “Where are the guest rooms?”

“Yours will be on the fourth floor. I’ll take you there later.” He continued up the stairs. “Come.”

“Why are we going to your office?”

“We need to discuss something important.”

“We can’t discuss it now?”

“No.”

What a stubborn man. With a sigh, she tried to think of something he would discuss. “Have you ever considered installing an elevator?”

“No.”

She tried another topic. “Where is Radinka from?”

“I believe it is called the Czech Republic now.”

“What did she mean—’at last, you have come.’ ” Shanna started up the last flight of stairs.

Roman shrugged. “Radinka believes she has psychic powers.”

“Really? Do you think she does?”

He reached the top of the stairs. “I don’t care what she believes as long as she does her job.”

“Right.” The man had obviously flunked sensitivity training. “So you trust her with your work, but you don’t believe her when she says she’s psychic.”

He frowned. “Some of her predictions are wrong.”

“How do you know?” Shanna hefted herself up the last step.

His frown deepened. “She has predicted that I will find great joy in my life.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Do I look particularly joyful?”

“No.” What an exasperating man! “So you’re making yourself miserable just to prove her wrong?”

His eyes flashed. “I am not. I was miserable for years before I met Radinka. She has nothing to do with it.”

“Well, hurray for you. You’ve made a lifelong commitment to misery.”

“I have not.”

“Have too.”

He crossed his arms. “This is childish.”

She crossed hers. “Is not.” She bit her lip to stop from laughing. It was just too much fun to goad this man.

He eyed her carefully, then the corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re trying to torment me, aren’t you?”

“You like misery, don’t you?”

He laughed. “How do you do this to me?”

“Make you laugh?” She grinned. “Is it a new experience for you?”

“No, but I’ve been out of practice.” He regarded her with wonder. “You do realize how close you came to being killed tonight?”

“Yeah, I do. Life can really stink sometimes. You can either laugh about it or cry, and sometimes I’d just rather laugh.” She’d cried enough already. “Besides, I was very lucky tonight. Just when I needed one, I found a guardian angel.”

His body stiffened. “Do not think that of me. I am far from… I am hopeless.”

Remorse simmered like molten gold in his eyes. “Roman.” She touched his face. “There is always hope.”

He stepped back. “Not for me.”

Shanna waited, hoping he would say something, confide in her just a little, but he remained silent. She pivoted, looking around her. Another guard stood in a dark corner. There were two doors along the hallway, and between them, a large painting. She moved closer to study the landscape. It portrayed a sunset over a green, hilly land. Down in the valley, a mist hovered among the ruins of stone buildings, fashioned in the Romanesque style.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

“It’s… it was a monastery in Romania. There is nothing left of it now.”

Nothing but memories, Shanna suspected, and not very good ones judging from the harsh expression on Roman’s face. Why would he keep a painting of Romania here if it disturbed him? Oh, right. Duh. The man liked misery. She took a closer look at the painting. Romania? That would explain his slight accent. Perhaps the buildings had been destroyed during World War II or the Soviet occupation, but somehow, the destruction looked much, much older than that. Strange. What could the ruins of an old monastery have to do with Roman?

He moved toward the door on the right. “This is my office.” He opened the door and waited for her to enter.

A sudden impulse streaked through her, urging her to bolt down the stairs. Why? The man had saved her life tonight. Why would he harm her now? Besides, she still had her Beretta. She removed her purse from her shoulder and held it against her chest. Damn, after all she’d been through the last few months, she was incapable of completely trusting another person.

And that was the worst part of all. She would have to be a loner for the rest of her life. All she had ever wanted was a normal life—a husband, children, good job, a nice house in a nice neighborhood, maybe a white picket fence. Just a normal life, dammit. And it would never happen. The Russians might not have killed her like they did Karen, but they had still managed to steal her life.

She squared her shoulders and walked into the large room. She looked around, curious about Roman’s taste in furniture, when a movement across the room caught her eye. Out of the shadows emerged two men. Connor and Gregori. She should have felt relieved, but their stern expressions worried her. The room felt suddenly cold. Too cold, with icy air swirling around her head.

With a shiver, she turned toward the door. “Roman?”

He locked the door and slipped the key into his pocket.

She gulped. “What’s going on?”

Roman stared at her, his eyes wavering like golden flames. Then he stepped toward her and whispered, “It is time.”

Vampires had been using mind control for centuries. It was the only way to seduce mortals into being a willing food source. And it was the only way to erase their memory afterward. Before inventing the formula for synthetic blood, Roman had used mind control on a nightly basis. He’d never felt any qualms about it. It was a matter of survival. It was normal.

These were the facts he’d told himself when he’d led Shanna up the stairs to his office. He had nothing to feel guilty about. Once he, Gregori, and Connor took over Shanna’s mind, he could command her to implant his fang. Then, when the job was done, he could erase her memory of it. Simple. Normal. Then why did he get more frustrated with each flight of stairs? By the time he reached his office, he had serious doubts about this plan. Three vampires ganging up on one mortal? It might be the only way to break through Shanna’s mental defenses. It might be the only way to get his damned tooth fixed. But it was starting to feel like a vicious assault.

Now, as she stood in his office at their mercy, guilt surged inside him. There was no other way, he told himself. He couldn’t be honest with her. If she found out he was a demon, she’d never volunteer to help. Without waiting, Gregori and Connor pounced. He could feel their psychic power swoop across the room, zeroing in on Shanna’s mind.

Her purse fell to the floor. She moaned and pressed the heels of her palms against her temples.

Roman hovered over her mentally to see if she was all right. She was. She had erected a shield with more speed and energy than he thought humanly possible. Amazing.

Gregori reinforced his attack, blanketing her with icy determination. Your thoughts will be mine!

And mine. Connor’s mind chiseled at her defenses.

No! Roman shot his friends a warning look. They recoiled, staring at him, stunned. They had expected resistance from Shanna, not him. But the truth was, he wanted her thoughts to himself. And he wanted her safe. That much psychic force might be needed to crack her defenses, but once her shield crumbled, all that power could rip through her mind, leaving it in shreds.

He strode toward her and pulled her against his chest. “Are you all right?”

She leaned against him. “I don’t feel good. My head… I’m so cold.”

“You’ll be okay.” He wrapped his arms around her, wishing his old carcass could produce more body heat. “You’ll be safe with me.” He covered the back of her head with his hand as if to protect her mind from further assault.

His two friends exchanged worried looks.

Connor cleared his throat. “Could I have a word with you?”

“In a moment.” They expected an explanation, but damned if Roman knew what to say. How could he explain all these strange feelings that were consuming him tonight? Lust, desire, fear, amusement, guilt, remorse. It was as if meeting Shanna had woken his heart from a deep sleep. He hadn’t realized how dead he was before meeting her. And how alive he felt now.

A shudder jolted through her body. “Come and rest.” He guided her toward the velvet chaise where he had fed on VANNA earlier that night.

She curled up on the chaise, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m so cold.”

He considered dragging in the suede comforter from his king-sized bed in the adjoining room, then he spotted a burgundy chenille blanket draped over one of the wing-back chairs. He never used it, but Radinka had bought it for his office, declaring the room needed more warmth. He grabbed the soft afghan and stretched it out over Shanna.

“Thank you.” She pulled the fringed end up to her chin. “I don’t know what came over me, but I just had the worst chill.”

“You’ll warm up soon.” He smoothed back her hair and wished he had time to smooth away all her fears. But Connor was pacing back and forth in front of the wet bar, and Gregori was leaning against a wall, glaring at him. “Gregori, would you make sure Dr. Whelan is comfortable? She might want something from the kitchen. Maybe some hot tea.”

“Okay.” Gregori sauntered toward her. “Hey, sweetcakes. What’s up?”

Sweetcakes! With a grimace, Roman walked across the room to confer with Connor.

The Highlander turned his back to Shanna and spoke very softly. Only a vampire with acute hearing would make out his words. “Laszlo claimed the lass was different. I dinna believe it, but now I do. I havena ever come across a mortal with that much mental fortitude.”

“I agree.” Roman glanced back at Shanna. Gregori was apparently pouring on the charm because she looked amused.

“Laszlo also told me that if yer tooth isna fixed tonight, it never will be.”

“I know.”

“We doona have time to be finding another dentist.” Connor motioned to the antique clock on the mantelpiece. “Laszlo will be calling in eighteen minutes.”

“I realize that.”

“Then why did ye stop us? We were verra close.”

“Her mind was about to crack. I was worried that once we broke through, that much psychic power would destroy her mind.”

“Ah.” Connor rubbed his chin with a forefinger. “And if her brain is damaged, she willna be able to fix yer tooth. I see.”

Roman frowned. He hadn’t even thought about his damned tooth. His concern had been for Shanna. What was she doing to him? He’d committed too many sins in the past to be acquiring a conscience now. He glanced back. Gregori was taking a seat at the end of the chaise. He lifted Shanna’s feet and set them in his lap.

“So what can we do, man?” Connor asked, dragging Roman’s attention away from Shanna.

“I have to gain her trust. She needs to let me in of her own free will.”

“Humph. Since when does a woman ever cooperate? Ye could spend a hundred years at it, but ye have only eighteen minutes.” Connor looked at the clock. “Make that seventeen.”

“I guess I’ll have to be extra charming.” As if he knew how. Roman glanced back. Gregori was slipping the shoes off her feet.

“Aye.” Connor nodded. “The ladies like charm.”

Roman narrowed his eyes. Gregori was massaging Shanna’s feet. Memories zipped through his mind. Gregori playing with VANNA’s feet, raking his teeth over her toes. And his eyes had glowed red. Goddammit. “Get your bloody hands off of her!” he shouted loud enough that everyone in the room jumped.

Gregori set Shanna’s feet back onto the chaise as he stood. “You told me to make her comfortable.”

Shanna yawned and stretched. “And you were doing a great job, Gregori. I was half asleep when Roman started bellowing like a mad cow.”

“Mad cow?” Gregori laughed till he caught the look on Roman’s face. He cleared his throat and backed away from Shanna.

“Connor, there’s some whisky in the cabinet there.” Roman gestured toward the wet bar.

The Highlander opened the cabinet. “Talisker from the Isle of Skye. What are ye doing with malt whisky?”

“Angus sent it. He’s hoping I’ll invent a new drink for him with my Fusion Cuisine.”

“Och. That would be grand.” Connor held the bottle up to admire it. “I have sorely missed the stuff.”

“Pour a glass for Miss Whelan.” Roman strode toward the chaise. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes.” She lifted a hand to her brow. “I had a terrible headache, but it seems to have disappeared. It was so strange. I could have sworn I heard voices in my head.” She made a face. “That’s gotta sound bad.”

“No, not at all.” This was good news. She hadn’t recognized whose voices she’d heard. And she hadn’t connected her headaches to their attempts at mind control.

She rubbed her forehead. “Maybe I’m coming down with a virus.” She grimaced. “Or schizophrenia. Sheesh. Next thing, somebody’s dog will start telling me what to do.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that.” He perched on the chaise beside her. “There’s a simple explanation for what you’re experiencing. Post-traumatic stress.”

“Oh yeah, that’s probably it.” She moved over a little to make room for him. “A shrink from the FBI told me about it. She said I could expect recurring panic attacks for the rest of my life. Doesn’t that sound cheerful?”

“The FBI?” Connor asked as he brought the glass of whisky.

Shanna winced. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, but you guys have been great. You deserve to know what’s going on.”

“Just tell us what you’re comfortable with.” Roman took the glass from Connor and offered it to Shanna. “This will help warm you up.” And loosen your tongue. And lower your defenses.

She raised herself up on an elbow. “I don’t usually drink anything stronger than beer.”

“You’ve been through hell tonight.” Hell with a full cast of demons. Roman pressed the glass into her hand.

She tossed back a portion, then coughed. “Whoa!” Her eyes watered. “Goddang. That was straight up, wasn’t it?”

Roman shrugged one shoulder and set the glass on the floor. “What do you expect when a Highlander pours you a drink?”

She lay back on the chaise, narrowing her eyes. “Jeez, Roman, were you trying to make a joke?”

“Maybe. Did it work?” Charming his way into a woman’s mind was a new experience for him. Before this, he’d simply taken what he needed.

She slowly smiled. “I think you were wrong before. There is hope for you.”

God’s blood. She had such cheerful optimism. Would he have to crush it someday with cruel reality? There was no hope for a murdering demon. But in the meantime, he’d let her fantasy of hope continue. Especially if it helped him get into her mind. “You were telling us about the FBI?”

“Oh, right. I’m in the Witness Protection Program. I have a federal marshal I’m supposed to contact if I get in trouble, but he wasn’t there when I called.”

“Is Shanna your real name?”

She sighed. “My name is supposed to be Jane Wilson. Shanna Whelan is dead.”

He touched her shoulder. “You feel very alive to me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I lost my family. I can never see them again.”

“Tell me about them.” Roman glanced at the clock. Twelve minutes to go.

She opened her eyes and gazed, unfocused, into the distance. “I have a sister and brother, both younger than me. We were very close, growing up, ’cause all we had was each other. My dad works for the State Department, so we grew up in a lot of foreign countries.”

“Such as?”

“Poland, Ukraine, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus.”

Roman exchanged a glance with Connor. “What exactly does your father do?”

“He was some kind of aide, but he never really said what he was doing. He traveled a lot.”

Roman tilted his head toward his desk. Connor nodded and moved quietly to the computer. “Your father’s name?”

“Sean Dermot Whelan. Anyway, my mom had been a schoolteacher, so she home-schooled us. That is until…” Shanna frowned and tugged the chenille blanket up to her cheek.

“Until what?” Roman heard Connor tapping away on the keyboard. The investigation of Sean Dermot Whelan had begun.

Shanna sighed. “When I was fifteen, my parents sent me to a boarding school in Connecticut. They said it would be better for me to have some formal school records, so I could get into a good university.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

“I thought so, too, at the time, but…”

“Yes?”

She rolled over onto her side, facing him. “They never sent my brother or sister away. Only me.”

“I see.” She was the one chosen to leave. Roman understood that more than he wanted to admit.

She twisted a chenille fringe around her finger. “I thought I must have done something wrong.”

“How could you? You were a child.” Memories filled Roman’s mind, memories he had thought long dead. “You missed your family.”

“Yeah, something terrible at first, but then I met Karen. We became best friends. She’s the one who first wanted to be a dentist. I used to tease her about wanting to stick her hands into people’s mouths for a living. But when it came time for me to make a decision, I chose to be a dentist, too.”

“I see.”

“I wanted to help people and be part of a community, you know, the neighborhood dentist who sponsors the local kids’ softball team. I wanted to set down roots and have a normal life. No more moving all over the world. And I wanted to treat children. I’ve always loved children.” Her eyes shimmered with moisture. “I don’t dare have children now. Those damned Russians.” She leaned over, grabbed the whisky off the floor, and downed another gulp.

Roman took the glass from her hand while she coughed and sputtered. Damn. He wanted her relaxed, not drunk. He glanced at the clock. Laszlo would be calling in eight minutes. “Tell me about the Russians.”

She settled back down on the chaise. “Karen and I shared an apartment in Boston. We used to go out every Friday night to this deli. We would scarf down pizza and brownies and curse men because we didn’t have a date. Then, one night—” She shuddered. “It was like an old gangster movie.”

Roman wondered why she didn’t have a date. Mortal men had to be blind. He took her hand in his. “Go on. They can’t hurt you now.”

Her eyes filled with tears again. ‘They do hurt me. Every day. I can’t sleep without seeing Karen dying in front of me. And I can’t function as a dentist anymore!” She leaned over to grab the glass of whisky. “Sheesh, I hate self-pity.”

“Wait a minute.” He moved the whisky out of her reach. “What do you mean, you can’t function as a dentist?”

She collapsed back onto the chaise. “I might as well face the facts. I’ve lost my career, too. How can I possibly work as a dentist when I faint at the sight of b-blood?”

Oh, right. Her fear of blood. He’d forgotten about that. “This fear of yours—it started that night at the deli?”

“Yes.” Shanna wiped her eyes. “I was in the bathroom when I heard the awful screams. They were shooting all over the place. I could hear the bullets hitting the walls. And I could hear the screams when they hit… people.”

“It was the Russians?”

“Yes. The gunfire stopped, so after a while, I sneaked out of the bathroom. I saw Karen lying on the floor. She… she’d been shot in the stomach and the chest. She was still alive, and she shook her head at me like she was trying to warn me.”

Shanna pressed her hands to her eyes. “That’s when I heard them. They were back behind the pizza oven, yelling in Russian.” She raised her hands to look at Roman. “I don’t really know Russian, but I recognized the cuss words. My brother and I used to have this competition going—who could learn the most cuss words in different languages.”