“Because I like you, Fiona. Isn’t it obvious?”
“What’s obvious, is that you did your research about me. Not enough obviously, or you wouldn’t have tried to kill me today. I may seem like some high society idiot, but I’m not! You can’t buy me, Roman, and you better not compel me either.” Her face is serious, which troubles me.
I stop her, grabbing her arm and looking at her directly, so I’m sure I have her full attention. “Listen to me, Fiona,” I say sternly. “I did not try to kill you. In the beginning, yes, I was trying to get your help, and I may have resorted to looking into you a bit, but that isn’t why I sent you the gifts.” Crossing her arms and meeting my stare, she watches as my lips move.
“Why did you get me all those gifts?”
“As a sign of affection,” I admit. In retrospect, I can see that it was too much.
“Affection?”
“You said yourself that you’re not a stupid woman. Can you not tell when a man is interested in you?” I ask, a smirk forming.
As she squints at me, I can see her lips beginning to form what looks like a smile. “This doesn’t make any sense, Roman.”
“Why not? Because you wear a cross? All that means is that I’m not to compel you, and I respect your decision. However, it doesn’t mean I cannot desire you. It just means it has to be your choice. I’ve never tried to be anything I’m not with you. I would like for you to see the real me, Fiona.”
Her hand raises to the cross she wears, and as she gently fondles it, I hope that she’s thinking about what I’ve said as her face flushes. I can hear her heartbeat picking up, and before she has a chance to run away, I decide to change the subject and show her I’m more than the research she has done on vampires. Just like she has shown me.
“Come, I’d like to show you something.”
“You’re not going to take me back to your lair are you?” she asks.
“Not today. I have something else I’d like to show you,” I reply, ignoring her sarcasm completely.
I hail us a cab and open the door for her to climb in the back before me. I can’t help but notice her perfect ass in front of me and fuck if I don’t want to take her back to my lair, as she calls it. A penthouse apartment of my own actually, but she can call it whatever the fuck she wants. I give the driver an address, as we take off toward the south end of the Strip.
“Where are we going?” she asks softly.
“I know you read my proposal, and I’d like to show you something.”
“Roman, I already told you that I can’t help –”
I interrupt her. “I’m not taking you there becau
se I think you can help me. I’m taking you there, so you’ll begin to understand that I’m a man with more to him than fangs. I have a heart. I am capable of empathy, of philanthropy… of love.” That last one leaves me trailing from my own sermon. I don’t love her, not yet, but something about her makes me think I could. That I will. It’s not something I can describe in particular detail; however, I’m certain she needs to see me as more than the folklore she’s been brainwashed to believe. She needs to see the real me.
As we pull up to the brick building, I pay the driver and get out of the taxi, holding my hand for Fiona. To my surprise, and my pleasure, she takes it as she slides out onto the street, staring at the building before us.
“Is this the foster home that you’re trying to fund?” she asks, still holding my hand.
“It is. It’s actually sort of a halfway house for wayward foster children who haven’t found a good home or are difficult to place. Come on, I’ll show you around.” I pull at her hand, and she comes with me seeming to inspect the area.
I am currently supplementing the funding of the home and covering the costs that taxpayer dollars do not take care of, along with some additional funds for improvements and activities for the kids. It needs more work, and with my plan and the casino funding, this home would work like a well funded private school and sanctuary for the kids.
“How is this paid for now? With tax dollars?” she asks, taking her hand back, and running it along the worn bricks outside.
“Yes, and some private funding.”
Just then, the door opens and Mrs. Connolly, the headmistress of sorts, comes out to greet me.
“Roman! It’s wonderful to see you!” She gives me a huge hug, her round frame enveloping me. “I see you’ve brought a friend.” She winks at me.
“Mrs. Connolly, this is Fiona Weston. I wanted to show her the place. I’ve been telling her about our plans.”
“Oh Fiona, it’s lovely to meet you. Our Roman has just been so wonderful. The kids absolutely adore him. Did you know that he was a soccer player? They actually started a little regular game since he taught them all how to play.” She swoops Fiona into a hug, much to her surprise, which makes me chuckle.
“It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Connolly.” Fiona's caught off guard by Mrs. Connolly’s immediate affection but seems to soften more and more.