How to Marry a Millionaire Vampire(15)

"Whatever." She glared at him. "I mean, look at that little knife. It's made of wood! We're talking pre-Bronze Age here, and the Russians have freaking machine guns! Need I elaborate?"

The Scotsman chuckled. "Ye have a clever one there, sir. Shall I give her a wee demonstration?"

Roman sighed. "Fine."

The Scotsman instantly spun about, opening a portrait on the wall to disclose a hidden compartment, while he kept turning till he was facing Shanna once again. It all happened so fast, she barely had time to admire the swirl of his kilt when she realized he was now pointing a machine gun at her.

"Wow," she breathed.

The Scotsman put the weapon back and shut the portrait that was hinged along one side. "Are ye happy now, lass?"

"Oh yeah. You were magnificent."

He grinned. "Anytime."

"There are armaments stashed throughout the house," Roman growled. "When I say you are safe, I mean it. Need I elaborate?"

She pursed her lips. "Nope."

"Then come." He headed up another flight of stairs.

Shanna heaved a sigh. There was no need to be rude. She turned once more to the Scotsman. "I love your plaid. It's different from the others."

"Shanna!" Roman waited on the next landing.

"I'm coming!" She stomped up the steps with the sound of the Scotsman chuckling behind her. Jeez, why was Roman in such a foul mood all of the sudden? "While we're on the subject of security, there's one more problem I'd like to discuss."

He closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. "And what would that be?" He ascended the next flight of steps.

"It's about Ian. He's too young for such dangerous work."

"He's older than he looks."

"He's not a day over sixteen. The boy should be in school."

"I assure you, Ian completed his schooling." Roman reached the third floor and nodded at the kilted guard posted there.

Shanna waved at the guard and wondered if one of the paintings was hiding a thermonuclear device. Somehow she doubted that a house loaded with armaments was all that safe. "The point is, I object to a child being used to guard me."

Roman continued up the next flight of stairs. "Your objection is noted."

Was that it? Objection noted and dismissed? "I'm serious about this. You're the boss here, so I'm sure you can do something about it."

Roman halted. "How did you find out I'm the owner of Romatech?"

"I guessed it, but Connor confirmed it."

Roman sighed, then resumed his climb up the stairs. "I need to have a little talk with Connor."

Shanna followed him. "And if you won't do anything about Ian, I'll have to talk to his boss, Angus Mac Kay."

"What?" Roman halted once again. He glanced back at her, his eyes wide with shock. "How did you hear about him?"

"Connor told me he was the owner of MacKay Security and Investigation."

"God's blood," Roman whispered. "I need to have a long talk with Connor." He trudged up more steps to the fourth floor.

"Which floor are we going to?"

"The fifth."

Shanna kept climbing. "What's on the fifth floor?"

"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."

                       
       
           



       CHAPTER 7

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.