How to Marry a Millionaire Vampire(16)

Simple. Normal. Then why did he get more frustrated with each flight of stairs? By the time he reached his office, he had serious doubts about this plan. Three vampires ganging up on one mortal?

It might be the only way to break through Shanna's mental defenses. It might be the only way to get his damned tooth fixed. But it was starting to feel like a vicious assault.

Now, as she stood in his office at their mercy, guilt surged inside him. There was no other way, he told himself. He couldn't be honest with her. If she found out he was a demon, she'd never volunteer to help. Without waiting, Gregori and Connor pounced. He could feel their psychic power swoop across the room, zeroing in on Shanna's mind.

Her purse fell to the floor. She moaned and pressed the heels of her palms against her temples.

Roman hovered over her mentally to see if she was all right. She was. She had erected a shield with more speed and energy than he thought humanly possible. Amazing.

Gregori reinforced his attack, blanketing her with icy determination. Your thoughts will be mine! And mine. Connor's mind chiseled at her defenses.

No! Roman shot his friends a warning look. They recoiled, staring at him, stunned. They had expected resistance from Shanna, not him. But the truth was, he wanted her thoughts to himself.

And he wanted her safe. That much psychic force might be needed to crack her defenses, but once her shield crumbled, all that power could rip through her mind, leaving it in shreds.

He strode toward her and pulled her against his chest. "Are you all right?"

She leaned against him. "I don't feel good. My head …  I'm so cold."

"You'll be okay." He wrapped his arms around her, wishing his old carcass could produce more body heat. "You'll be safe with me." He covered the back of her head with his hand as if to protect her mind from further assault.

His two friends exchanged worried looks.

Connor cleared his throat. "Could I have a word with you?"

"In a moment." They expected an explanation, but damned if Roman knew what to say. How could he explain all these strange feelings that were consuming him tonight? Lust, desire, fear, amusement, guilt, remorse. It was as if meeting Shanna had woken his heart from a deep sleep. He hadn't realized how dead he was before meeting her. And how alive he felt now.

A shudder jolted through her body. "Come and rest." He guided her toward the velvet chaise where he had fed on VANNA earlier that night.

She curled up on the chaise, wrapping her arms around herself. "I'm so cold."

He considered dragging in the suede comforter from his king-sized bed in the adjoining room, then he spotted a burgundy chenille blanket draped over one of the wing-back chairs. He never used it, but Radinka had bought it for his office, declaring the room needed more warmth. He grabbed the soft afghan and stretched it out over Shanna.

"Thank you." She pulled the fringed end up to her chin. "I don't know what came over me, but I just had the worst chill."

"You'll warm up soon." He smoothed back her hair and wished he had time to smooth away all her fears. But Connor was pacing back and forth in front of the wet bar, and Gregori was leaning against a wall, glaring at him. "Gregori, would you make sure Dr. Whelan is comfortable? She might want something from the kitchen. Maybe some hot tea."

"Okay." Gregori sauntered toward her. "Hey, sweetcakes. What's up?"

Sweetcakes! With a grimace, Roman walked across the room to confer with Connor.

The Highlander turned his back to Shanna and spoke very softly. Only a vampire with acute hearing would make out his words. "Laszlo claimed the lass was different. I dinna believe it, but now I do. I havena ever come across a mortal with that much mental fortitude."

"I agree." Roman glanced back at Shanna. Gregori was apparently pouring on the charm because she looked amused.

"Laszlo also told me that if yer tooth isna fixed tonight, it never will be."

"I know."

"We doona have time to be finding another dentist." Connor motioned to the antique clock on the mantelpiece. "Laszlo will be calling in eighteen minutes."

"I realize that."

"Then why did ye stop us? We were verra close."

"Her mind was about to crack. I was worried that once we broke through, that much psychic power would destroy her mind."

"Ah." Connor rubbed his chin with a forefinger. "And if her brain is damaged, she willna be able to fix yer tooth. I see."

Roman frowned. He hadn't even thought about his damned tooth. His concern had been for Shanna.

What was she doing to him? He'd committed too many sins in the past to be acquiring a conscience now. He glanced back. Gregori was taking a seat at the end of the chaise. He lifted Shanna's feet and set them in his lap.

"So what can we do, man?" Connor asked, dragging Roman's attention away from Shanna.

"I have to gain her trust. She needs to let me in of her own free will."

"Humph. Since when does a woman ever cooperate? Ye could spend a hundred years at it, but ye have only eighteen minutes." Connor looked at the clock. "Make that seventeen."

"I guess I'll have to be extra charming." As if he knew how. Roman glanced back. Gregori was slipping the shoes off her feet.

"Aye." Connor nodded. "The ladies like charm."

Roman narrowed his eyes. Gregori was massaging Shanna's feet. Memories zipped through his mind. Gregori playing with VANNA's feet, raking his teeth over her toes. And his eyes had glowed red. Goddammit. "Get your bloody hands off of her!" he shouted loud enough that everyone in the room jumped.

Gregori set Shanna's feet back onto the chaise as he stood. "You told me to make her comfortable."

Shanna yawned and stretched. "And you were doing a great job, Gregori. I was half asleep when Roman started bellowing like a mad cow."

"Mad cow?" Gregori laughed till he caught the look on Roman's face. He cleared his throat and backed away from Shanna.

"Connor, there's some whisky in the cabinet there." Roman gestured toward the wet bar.

The Highlander opened the cabinet. "Talisker from the Isle of Skye. What are ye doing with malt whisky?"

"Angus sent it. He's hoping I'll invent a new drink for him with my Fusion Cuisine."

"Och. That would be grand." Connor held the bottle up to admire it. "I have sorely missed the stuff."

"Pour a glass for Miss Whelan." Roman strode toward the chaise. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes." She lifted a hand to her brow. "I had a terrible headache, but it seems to have disappeared. It was so strange. I could have sworn I heard voices in my head." She made a face. "That's gotta sound bad."

"No, not at all." This was good news. She hadn't recognized whose voices she'd heard. And she hadn't connected her headaches to their attempts at mind control.

She rubbed her forehead. "Maybe I'm coming down with a virus." She grimaced. "Or schizophrenia.

Sheesh. Next thing, somebody's dog will start telling me what to do."

"I don't think you need to worry about that." He perched on the chaise beside her. "There's a simple explanation for what you're experiencing. Post-traumatic stress."

"Oh yeah, that's probably it." She moved over a little to make room for him. "A shrink from the FBI told me about it. She said I could expect recurring panic attacks for the rest of my life. Doesn't that sound cheerful?"

"The FBI?" Connor asked as he brought the glass of whisky.

Shanna winced. "I'm not supposed to talk about it, but you guys have been great. You deserve to know what's going on."

"Just tell us what you're comfortable with." Roman took the glass from Connor and offered it to Shanna. "This will help warm you up." And loosen your tongue. And lower your defenses.

She raised herself up on an elbow. "I don't usually drink anything stronger than beer."

"You've been through hell tonight." Hell with a full cast of demons. Roman pressed the glass into her hand.

She tossed back a portion, then coughed. "Whoa!" Her eyes watered. "Goddang. That was straight up, wasn't it?"

Roman shrugged one shoulder and set the glass on the floor. "What do you expect when a

Highlander pours you a drink?"

She lay back on the chaise, narrowing her eyes. "Jeez, Roman, were you trying to make a joke?"

"Maybe. Did it work?" Charming his way into a woman's mind was a new experience for him.

Before this, he'd simply taken what he needed.

She slowly smiled. "I think you were wrong before. There is hope for you."

God's blood. She had such cheerful optimism. Would he have to crush it someday with cruel reality? There was no hope for a murdering demon. But in the meantime, he'd let her fantasy of hope continue. Especially if it helped him get into her mind. "You were telling us about the FBI?"

"Oh, right. I'm in the Witness Protection Program. I have a federal marshal I'm supposed to contact if I get in trouble, but he wasn't there when I called."

"Is Shanna your real name?"

She sighed. "My name is supposed to be Jane Wilson. Shanna Whelan is dead."

He touched her shoulder. "You feel very alive to me."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I lost my family. I can never see them again."

"Tell me about them." Roman glanced at the clock. Twelve minutes to go.