“Dead?” he interrupts. It would be e
asy to say he’s putting words in my mouth, but this isn’t the case.
“But you’re not dead, are you?”
Roman’s eyes tear away from mine, in time for the cab driver to pull over in front of the hotel where I live. Roman pays and exits the cab first, never letting go of my hand. Not all I have learned about vampires seems to hold true when it comes to Roman. He’s soft, gentle and doesn’t move lightning fast, although I’m sure when he’s with his own kind things are different. He hasn’t tried to coerce me into anything, at least nothing I’m aware of. I can easily say these feelings are genuine because as I stand here on the street corner, watching this creature survey the crowd like we’re finishing our first date and both wondering if the awkward kiss should happen here or at the elevator, I realize I don’t want my day with him to end. I like holding his hand, and I like being in his presence, but loathe the idea that we’ve come together because of business. Why couldn’t I meet him on my own?
“Would you like me to check and see if your apartment has been cleared out?”
“It’s nice of you to ask but no. Would you like to get dinner at the Bellagio?” I point behind me, the nerves of the moment setting in. “I mean, I know you don’t eat, but it’s a vampire-friendly restaurant and maybe…”
“If you’re thinking I drink blood while dining, the answer is no.” Roman steps forward and his free hand reaches toward my face. I too take a step closer, expecting him to cup my cheek, but he moves my hair away from my neck and uses humanly impossible strength to tilt my head to the side. Roman presses himself to me and my heartbeat increases. I seek out help from any of the passersby, but they’re oblivious or so used to see something like this, they don’t care to ask if I need help. “This is how I feed.” His nail trails down my throat, and I swallow hard. “But only if you allow me,” he whispers into my ear.
Roman steps away, his expression solemn. “I will never take unless you offer, Fiona.”
“And if I never offer?”
He frowns and shakes his head. “A conversation for another place?”
I nod, understanding that his situation is private, and not all humans are privy to what a vampire does when it doesn’t concern them. “Dinner?”
Roman tightens his grip on my hand and leads us toward the crosswalk. I find myself leaning into him when other women look him up and down. All vampires are devilishly handsome. It’s the appeal they’re reborn with to lure humans to them, but Roman is different. The always there stubble is a definite turn on and his eyes… they’re so blue and translucent, I feel like I could see into the depths of his soul if he had one. Of course, I’m saying this without really knowing him. It’s my gut telling me otherwise, and my father has always told me to follow my instincts.
Even though I invited Roman out to dinner, he’s taken control, powering us through the onslaught of tourists and into the hotel with a commanding air about him. I suppose from the outside we could look like any other power couple in Vegas, and it’s only his paler than normal skin that gives him away because his mark is covered by the way we’re walking side by side.
We arrive at the restaurant and stand at the podium, waiting for the hostess. By the number of people waiting, it’ll be an hour wait, easily.
“Roman!” I look for the source of his name and find one of the waitresses rushing toward us. Well, not us, but Roman. I fully expect him to drop my hand to greet the woman, but he doesn’t. He holds on tighter. Shan would’ve let go.
“Lydia, how are you?” Roman kisses her on the cheek. He lets go of my hand, but only so he can place his arm behind my back to pull me forward. “This is my Fiona,” Roman tells her. The fact he calls me "his" sends another shiver down my spine. I love it.
“So nice to meet you, Fiona. Are you here for dinner?”
I nod. “We were about to put our names on the list.”
Lydia waves us off. “No need. Follow me; I just had a table open in my station.”
Roman doesn’t hesitate to fall in line behind her. Me, my radar is going off, and my jealousy meter is starting to spike. How do they know each other? Were they intimate? Did he bite her?
Lydia smiles softly as she shows us to our table for two, overlooking the fountains. I don’t care how many times I’ve taken in the views of Las Vegas, the Strip, once the sun starts going down is a sight to behold. Roman holds out my chair and orders a red wine for me to drink. As soon as she’s gone, I ask him, “Is she a juice hustler of yours?”
Roman’s eyes go wide. He looks over his shoulder, possibly checking to see if Lydia heard me or maybe he’s seeking out other vampires, hoping they didn’t hear what I said. Ah hell, I don’t know. Roman stands and pulls his chair over to mine, resting his arm on the back of my chair. I like this. It feels intimate. He reaches for my hand and holds it in my lap. “Absolutely not. Lydia’s married to my friend, who is a vampire,” he says quietly.
“Oh.”
“If you have questions, I will answer them, Fiona. I meant what I said earlier, I like you, and while my intentions at first were business related, that was all before I had a chance to get to know you. You’re an amazing woman.” He brushes my hair behind my ear. I turn and look at him.
“Do you have a juice hustler? Someone who lives in your lair that services you?”
Roman smirks and shakes his head. “No, I don’t. When I need to feed, I go to our club.”
“And you have sex with them?”
He shakes his head again. “Feeding and sex don’t go hand in hand. I can bite someone anywhere to feed off them.” Roman nuzzles my neck as his lips dance along my skin, undoubtedly feeling my pulse vibrate. “But here…” His nose runs a path down my neck. “I’ll bite here when the time is right. When I sense you’re close, and you need the extra endorphins to push you over the edge, or when I want to make love to you, I’ll nip ever so lightly so you can feel my hunger for you. And sometimes, it’s just fun to play.”
“Does it hurt?”
“It can, if you’re rough with your subject, but Fiona, I can promise you, I’d never do anything to hurt you.”