"Good night. Connor, are you there?"
There was a pause, then a beeping noise. "Aye, I'm here."
"Escort Miss Whelan to my office in ten minutes."
"Aye, sir."
Roman strode toward the wet bar, grabbed a bottle of synthetic blood from the mini-fridge, and popped it into the microwave. He headed back to his bedroom. There he pulled on a pair of black slacks and a gray dress shirt-an effort to look a little more formal since he had important guests arriving that night. Angus and his entourage would be dressed to the hilt in their Scottish finery.
Jean-Luc would be accompanied by his beautiful vampire models, all wearing his famous haute couture evening wear.
Stuffed in the back of his closet, Roman spotted the black tuxedo and matching cape that Jean-Luc had given him three years ago. Roman groaned. He'd have to wear the damned thing again. Maybe Jean-Luc enjoyed dressing like the Hollywood version of Dracula, but Roman preferred the more relaxed dress code of modern times. He removed the tuxedo from the closet. He'd have to get it pressed before the Gala Opening Ball.
The microwave dinged. His first meal for the evening was ready. He tossed the tuxedo onto his bed.
Just then, the outer door to the office slammed open.
"Roman?" Shanna yelled. "Are you there?" There was a definite edge to her voice. Nervous, breathless, near panic.
No way had that been ten minutes. She must have run the entire way. Damn. There went his breakfast.
"I'm in here," he answered and heard a responding gasp as he strode barefoot to the bedroom door. She was standing close to his desk, her face flushed from running, her pretty mouth agape. Her eyes widened as he moved into the office. "Oh my God," she whispered. Moisture shimmered in her eyes. She covered her mouth with trembling fingers.
God's blood, she'd been through hell. He looked down, embarrassed by the ordeal he'd put her through. Oh, great, he was a sight. His shirt was hanging open. His trousers were unbuttoned and low enough on his hips that his black boxer shorts were showing. He pushed his damp hair back from his face and cleared his throat. "I heard what happened."
She just stood there, staring at him.
Connor rushed through the door. "Sorry, sir. I tried to slow her down, but-" He noted Roman's state of dress. "Och, we should have knocked."
"You're alive." Shanna inched toward him.
The microwave dinged, a reminder bell that his breakfast was still waiting. And would have to wait until Shanna left.
Connor winced. He knew a vampire was always the hungriest when he first awoke. "We should come back later," he suggested to Shanna, "when Mr. Draganesti has finished dressing."
She didn't seem to hear Connor. She moved slowly toward Roman. He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent. She smelled delicious, and that pale orange top made her look as juicy as a ripe peach. What little blood was left in his body surged toward his groin, leaving him doubly starved-for her flesh, and blood.
The intensity of his hunger must have been noticeable. Connor backed toward the door. "I'll be leaving you two alone, then." He eased out, shutting the door behind him.
Shanna was close enough to grab now. He curled his hands into fists, fighting the temptation. "I've been told that I frightened you. I'm sorry."
A tear escaped, but before it could reach her cheek, she brushed it away. "I'm just happy you're all right."
Did she really care that much? Roman watched her closely. Her gaze traveled the length of him, pausing at his bare chest, slipping lower to his stomach. Damn, he wanted her. He hoped his eyes weren't starting to glow.
"You're really all right." She touched his chest, a light touch with her fingertips, but it jolted him like a lightning bolt. He reacted swiftly, pulling her to him in a tight embrace.
She stiffened at first in surprise, then relaxed, nestling her cheek against the mat of curls on his chest. Her hands rested lightly on his shirt. "I was afraid I had lost you."
"I'm rather hard to get rid of, actually." God's blood, he was hungry. Control, stay in control.
"Radinka said I worked on your teeth last night."
"Yes."
"Let me see." She reached up to his mouth and examined the splint. "The tooth looks fine, a little more pointed than usual. It seems to have healed very quickly."
"Yes. You can remove the splint."
"What? No, I can't. These things take time." The microwave dinged again, drawing her attention.
"Did you need to get that?"
He took her hand and kissed her fingers. "I just need you."
She snorted softly and removed her hand from his grip. "Is it true, then, that you actually hypnotized me?"
"Yes." It was close to the truth.
She frowned at him. "I didn't do anything strange, did I? I mean, it's awfully disconcerting to know I did stuff and have no memory of it."
"You were very professional." He recaptured her hand and kissed her palm. If only she would suggest oral sex again.
"I didn't freak out at the sight of blood?"
"No." He kissed the inside of her wrist. Type A Positive was pulsing through the vein. "You were very brave."
Her eyes lit up. "You know what this means? My career isn't over. This is great!" She flung her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "Thank you, Roman."
His arms tightened around her. His heart expanded with a glimpse of hope. Then he recalled his suggestion to her at the dental clinic. Bloody hell! This was his doing. She was merely following orders. He wrenched himself out of her embrace.
She gasped, clearly surprised. Then her face seemed to crumble, but only for a second before it settled into a stony, shuttered look. She stepped back. Damn, she must think he had rejected her.
And she was trying hard to mask the pain. She really did care about him, and he was fumbling about like an idiot, frightening her during the day, and now hurting her feelings. He had so damned little experience with mortal females.
The microwave dinged once more. He strode toward the machine and yanked the plug from the socket. There, it would stop tempting him with warm blood. Unfortunately, Shanna presented a temptation much harder to resist. She was fresh.
"I'd better be going now." She retreated to the office door. "I … I'm happy you're alive, and that your tooth is fine. And I appreciate your protection and all the nice … gifts, which I really can't keep."
"Shanna."
She reached for the doorknob. "You're a busy man, so I'll stay out of your way. In fact, I'll be leaving-"
"Shanna, wait." He moved toward her. "I need to explain."
She refused to look at him. "There's no need."
"Yes, there is. Last night, while you were … hypnotized, I planted an idea in your mind. I shouldn't have done it, but I made the suggestion that you would throw your arms around me and give me a passionate kiss. And when you did, just now, I realized what I-"
"Wait a minute." She gave him an incredulous look. "You think I was programmed to kiss you?"
"Yes. It was wrong of me, but-"
"That's crazy! First of all, I am not under your control. Sheesh, I'm barely under my own."
"Perhaps, but-"
"And secondly, I bet I'm a lot harder to control than you think."
He kept his mouth shut. She was correct, but he didn't want to confirm it.
"And finally, that was not a passionate kiss. It was a dinky peck on the cheek. A man your age should know the difference."
He raised his brows. "Should I?" He could hardly explain he'd spent most of his mortal years in a monastery.
"Of course. There's a huge difference between a peck on the cheek and a passionate kiss."
"And you are angry with me for failing to discriminate between the two?"
"I'm not angry! Well, maybe a little." She glared at him. "You pulled away from me like I was some kind of leper."
He stepped toward her. "It won't happen again."
She snorted softly. "You can say that again."
He shrugged one shoulder. "I'm a scientist, Shanna. I can hardly make a comparative analysis of the different types of kisses if I cannot acquire the necessary data."
Her eyes narrowed. "I know what you're up to. You're trying to weasel a free sample out of me."
"You mean they're not normally free?" He smiled. "How much will a passionate kiss cost me?"
"I give them freely when I'm in the mood, which I am not." She glowered at him. "It'll be a cold day in hell before I feel like giving you a passionate kiss."
Ouch. He figured that was payback for hurting her feelings earlier. "I actually thought the little peck was very exciting."
"Oh, please. I'm talking real passion here. Hot, sweaty, jungle-fever type stuff. Believe me, if for some strange reason, hell freezes over, and I decide to give you a passionate kiss" - she leaned against the door and crossed her arms- "believe me, you would have no problem recognizing the difference."
"As a scientist, I can't deal with beliefs." He moved closer. "I need proof."
"You won't be getting it from me."
He stopped in front of her. "Maybe you can't deliver."
"Ha! Maybe you can't handle it."
He rested a palm against the door, close to her head. "Is that a challenge?"