Leslie’s eyes go wide and as much as I’d love to deny everything, I can’t. I won’t. I sit up in my chair a little straighter and look at Leslie, knowing either my friendship or my life is about to end because she’ll inevitably tell my father.
“You can’t even admit it, can you?” she asks.
“No, I can. I was choosing to keep my love life private. Unlike some of us.” I glance quickly at Lana, who shrugs.
“I’m so disgusted by you, Fiona. I thought you were better than this, better than her.” She points to Lana, who doesn’t seem shocked by Leslie’s outburst.
“I’m sorry you feel this way.”
Leslie stands and moves rather quickly, gathering her stuff. She pauses when she steps by me, but eventually continues toward the exit. Breathing a sigh of relief would be nice right about now, but my heart is beating out of my chest at the unknown.
“How was it?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Lana leans forward. “Tell me every dirty detail.”
So I do, right there in the middle of the restaurant for everyone to hear.
19
Roman
Exquisite. Luscious. Delectable. Utterly tantalizing. All words I have used to describe Fiona in the last few days. Not only have I never tasted anything – anyone, as utterly delicious as her, but she has me hooked on her in every way. I’m an addict who spends most of my time thinking about her, waiting to get another fix.
After our first time together, the first time she let me bite her, I laid with her, watching her sleep. Thinking about how I’d come to be in this moment, feeling as I do, after all of these years. I don’t remember any specifics about my life before turning, but I recall having human emotions. That’s how I know it’s love. It’s a feeling, an inability to imagine life, or whatever it is I’m living, without her in it. I’ve roamed the earth, doing what and with whom I pleased, for as long as I can remember, and now I know why. It was to find Fiona.
While I have to feed on humans to survive, I've never felt a deep or spiritual connection to them on any level. I’ve always thought we were put on the earth together to each serve a purpose, with their use being to nourish our bodies. Defining my own path never even occurred to me until the last fifty years or so, when Selene and I were traveling through London, and discussing where to go next. We’ve lived much like tourists through our existence. Visiting the great cathedrals in Italy, including the Vatican when no one was looking, touring the Caribbean and lounging on the beach, spending our time looking for somewhere to build what could be considered the semblance of normalcy. I don’t think we knew that’s what we were doing. We were just enjoying our freedom, searching for the next part-time venue.
But what I didn’t realize until now, was a normal life was fundamentally a mortal life. As vampires, we don’t have to rest. We have places to feed a
round the world. At the heart of it all, we want for nothing. We are creatures of pleasure if we so choose. But the life of luxury, the reward of immortality, becomes empty once you’ve tasted the freedoms of travel, money and gratuitous sex around the globe. Before the laws were enacted, we didn’t need to ask to feed, and we could take the blood of whom we chose, perhaps even their life when we saw fit. Certainly a more archaic time, it also had its advantages of adventure and danger as well.
Being with Fiona intimately is terrific. An adventure in itself. Her appetite for me, for the pleasure I bring her, only brings me closer to her. Our bond now impenetrable, I sense her in ways even I did not realize possible. If it were up to me, she’d stop working for her father, and be my consort all the time. Yes, an old-fashioned way of thinking, but I am already working out a plan to convince her to marry me. Damen and Lydia make it work, and their happiness, their seeming content with the time they have together is what I desire with Fiona.
I know she’s a progressive mortal and has made it very clear that being kept by me does not suit her, and since her happiness is paramount to me, she shall have her way.
“Must you go to work today?” I ask her as I lie in bed watching her dress.
“Yes, I must.” She turns to face me, buttoning up a new blouse I bought her.
“You know, you don’t have to work. You could just stay here with me.” My eyes shift between her breasts where her cross dangles. I do wish that she’d take it off, but I understand that it is symbolic of her independence, which I both admire and respect. She has no desire to be controlled, and she proves that she wishes to be with me every day.
“I do have to work, Roman. We’ve talked about this a million times. I can’t just sit around doing nothing, not contributing. That’s just not who I am.”
“We don’t have to sit around. We can travel the world.”
She smiles thoughtfully and saunters to the side of the bed, taking a seat. “As wonderful as that sounds, and I do want to travel with you, Roman, my work here isn’t finished. And neither is yours. Once you open the casino, then we can go on a vacation to celebrate.”
I muse, as she still hasn’t realized the magnitude of what we could do, how we could live our lives together. Her human mind cannot yet comprehend our lack of need for casinos, for jobs, her trust fund, for any of it. The work that I’ve done over the years would take care of her in any fashion she wished for the rest of her life. The only reason that I want to set up the casino as an ongoing funding source for the orphanage is so that when I decide to leave Las Vegas for another new adventure, that legacy will live on, sustaining itself.
“Vacation, eh?” I ask.
She leans in to kiss me. I don’t remember a desire for human food or the tastes it offers, but I imagine that her kisses taste like the sweetest desserts made by the most excellent pastry chefs in all of France. I should take her to France; I think that she’d enjoy the shopping, the cafes, and the romance of it all.
“Yes, vacation. It’s what normal people do. Besides, I’m going to talk to my father today about some things.”
My romantic desire to sweep my love off to France has been replaced with disdain and anger. “What are you going to talk to him about exactly?” She doesn’t have to tell me what she’s doing, and she does work for him, but they’ve avoided any real conversation since the incident at her house.