Roman (The Clutch 1)

“There’s nothing ordinary about you, Fiona.” Roman’s arm extends over the threshold, and his hand gently cups my face while his thumb brushes over my cheekbone. I turn and place a kiss on his palm. “We should go,” he says, abruptly. “Are you wearing sunblock?”

“Yes, are you?” I counter, only to realize what I’ve said.

Roman laughs. “The sun doesn’t bother me, make me sparkle or turn my body to dust. But you, on the other hand, could turn into what you humans refer to as a lobster, and from what I understand, you wouldn’t want to be touched, and I can’t have that, now can I?”

My insides alight with desire at his words. I swallow hard, trying to clear the lump that’s formed in my throat. “No, I suppose we can’t.” I grab my purse and follow Roman to the elevator. We stand side by side until we’ve reached the bottom floor. He places his hand on my back to guide me out of the elevator and hotel where the valet is.

“We’re this way.” Roman directs me toward a cherry red Jeep Wrangler. The top is down and sitting in the back are Lydia and Damen. “You remember Lydia?”

“Yes, hi again,” I say, accepting Roman’s help as I climb in. Damen thrusts his hand forward, taking mine in his.

“I’m Damen, Lydia’s husband.”

“Hi, I’m--”

“Roman’s,” Damen says matter-of-factly. I glance at Roman, who’s frowning.

“I brought you a hat,” Roman says, handing me a baseball cap. “You might want it when we’re on the freeway for the wind.”

“Thank you.” Within seconds, we’re in the middle of the Las Vegas traffic heading toward Boulder City. The sun is hotter than I expected. Usually, I’m in the comfort of air conditioning, but I imagine being a vampire, feeling something like the wind in your hair and not having to worry about sunblock is nice.

As soon we’re on the freeway, Roman’s hand touches my leg. Instantly, my scorched skin cools down, and I realize why we’re in a convertible. The hotter I am, the more I’ll need Roman. It’s a different form of chivalry, and I love it.

The drive is about forty minutes or so depending on traffic. We arrive the second the park opens, beating the crowd. After we park on the top floor of the parking structure, Roman and Damen lead Lydia and me to the stairs. “Hop on,” Roman says, motioning to his back.

“Excuse me, what?”

Roman points to Lydia, who is about to get a piggyback ride from Damen.

“It’ll be faster.” He must sense my hesitation. I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve had a one of these. “I’ll be safe.”

“You’re going to carry me down the stairs? I have two legs, I can walk perfectly fine.”

“No one’s saying you can’t walk. But if I carry you, we get down to the bottom faster.”

“Why didn’t you just park down there?” I ask, jutting my foot out.

For the first time since I’ve met him, Roman rolls his eyes. “Because sometimes vampires are over the top and we like to use the abilities we have for fun. We happen to love racing downstairs.”

I look to Lydia for confirmation. “It’s true. We live on the top floor of our apartment complex and have yet to use the elevator.”

“Not true,” Damen says. “We used it for sex.”

Lydia swats Damen on the shoulder. “We broke the elevator and have been afraid to use it ever since.” Damen laughs and shrugs.

“You won’t drop me?”

“Never, Fiona.” Roman helps me onto his back and makes sure I’m secure. “You may want to close your eyes.” I do as he says, shutting my eyes and wrapping my arms around his neck. I suppose if I hang on too tightly, he won’t choke to death.

No sooner do I close my eyes, Roman taps my leg, signaling for me to get down. I open my eyes slowly and look around. A few people are staring, probably wondering why an adult woman is hanging off the back of her man, but nonetheless, the looks are odd. I disengage and slide down Roman’s back and reach for his hand.

“I feel like I missed something by keeping my eyes closed.”

“You didn’t,” Lydia says. “It takes awhile for you to adj

ust to their speed, at least it did for me. The first time I kept my eyes open, I was sicker than a dog.” She and Damen walk ahead.

Roman goes to follow, but I hold him back. “What is it?” he asks.