Jeanie glanced at her. “You have to be woken up periodically when you sleep.”
Lydia gaped at Roman. She was about to argue before that blessed warmth once again invaded her mind, calming her thoughts.
The brunette continued. “He’s too far away from his home to make it before the storm hits. Look outside. The snow is dropping in massive clumps. And you won’t let me stay.” She headed toward the door, and Lydia reached it in time to open it for her.
Jeanie tugged on her gloves and pulled on her beanie cap. “See you soon.”
Wind and snow pelted them as Lydia opened the door. The frigid air stealing into the room stole her breath.
“I’ll call if I get snowed in.” Jeanie waved, maneuvering her way down the driveway to her little beat-up car sitting next to the street. Lydia waited until she saw Jeanie’s headlights come on before closing the door.
She engaged the lock and turned to her last-minute guest. Roman leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, still wearing his coat. Her gaze traveled down to his socked feet and back up. His face was smudged and his clothes were stained from the fight in the alley. She doubted she had anything in storage that would fit him. He looked so at ease in her home.
* * * * *
Simon held the scarf against his face, savoring the scent of her skin lingering in the cloth. Lydia
Snow and wind fought a war in the streets below as he perched on a nearby roof, nestled in a wind break. The weather was only a minor inconvenience.
People rushed home despite the icy roads, and metal crunched in the distance from a fender bender, leaving voices raised in fury. He didn’t care. He was focused intently on the little house with Christmas lights and the warm glow of a lamp coming from one of the rooms.
The silhouette of a man walked past a window, and Simon’s lip curled over a fang. Roman. Bitterness roiled through his mind, and the demon of bloodlust rose from the depths of his soul.
No other man’s scent had been on Lydia’s skin. His mouth curved into a smile. He wouldn’t stop until she belonged to him.
The door he’d been watching abruptly opened, and he melted into the shadows.
Lydia’s hair was dark with blonde streaks, and light shone behind her head in a halo. My destiny.
Another figure caught his attention. She was slight with long black hair partially tucked under a winter cap, her face half hidden behind a scarf. He watched as she made her way precariously down the icy driveway to a compact car.
The dark-haired woman opened the door and jumped inside. Pale yellow spilled out onto the snow from the ancient headlights as she fired up the engine.
He grinned and stood on the roof, letting the wind batter against him before dropping silently to the ground.
A dog whimpered in the night as he lightly jumped a nearby fence.
She had just put the car in gear when he reached her and knocked softly on the window. The door opened an inch, and scents of jasmine and peaches touched his nose.
“Yes?”
“Looks like you may need some help digging the car out.”
She blinked and shoved the door open with her foot. He stepped lightly out of the way. “Thank you, I can take care of it.”
He shrugged. “Okay, but the storm is picking up strength.”
“What are you doing out in it?” Her dark eyes were filled with suspicion. It was a challenge, and he liked it.
The barking grew louder from across the street, giving him an excuse. “I’d just finished taking my dog out to do his business and noticed you getting into your vehicle.”
She sighed, put the car back in park, and climbed out. “I have a shovel—”
Simon had her against the vehicle in a heartbeat with his hands cupping her head. She opened her mouth to scream, and he pressed into her mind, stifling her fear. Her eyes glazed over, and he tugged the scarf loose from her neck. “What’s your name?”
“Jeanie.”
“Jeanie. It’s cold out here, isn’t it?”
“Cold.” She repeated the word in a monotone voice. He noticed her pretty face and full lips, but nothing stirred to life as he gazed at her. It had been years since a woman had affected him sexually. He shook off the thoughts and concentrated on what she could do for him.
Her pulse slammed against his hand as some part of her rebelled against his control. Bloodlust surged, and his fangs ached to bury into her skin.
Simon nuzzled her throat. “I need something warm tonight, Jeanie.”
She murmured a weak response, but he was focused on the way her heart thrummed and the delicious scent of her body. Centuries had taught him how to savor his food.
Her mind fought back when he pulled her against him, her slight body struggling as he raked his incisors over her skin, tearing open just enough. Warm blood rushed into his mouth, and he groaned deep in his throat. She grew pliant in his arms, and he buried his fangs deep, allowing the demon within to feed.
“Come home with me,” her voice whispered against his temple.
He fisted her hair and tugged her head back, savoring her taste. “You’re not going home, Jeanie. Ever again.”
Chapter Four
There were far worse things in life than being stuck inside the house with a beautiful woman during a blizzard. For a moment, Roman wanted to forget why he was there, forget who she was.
He wandered to the mantle of an ancient fireplace where pictures were scattered along the top. There weren’t many of Lydia, he noticed, studying the photos. A face full of mischief and bright blue eyes seemed to be the star of the show.
Roman clenched his jaw. He hadn’t known Lydia had a daughter. Six weeks should have been enough time for his team to know everything about her. There was no husband or divorce certificate. She’d never changed her name for any reason. He’d be willing to bet Simon knew, which was why he hadn’t killed her in that alley. Simon would consider Lydia a prize with or without a daughter.
A sudden shift in air pressure let Roman know the door had closed. Lydia’s scent entered on a chill wind, crisp and fresh with only the lingering flavor of dried blood from her fall. His stomach tightened.
He looked up in time to see her standing in the doorway, pale and lovely with her hands clasped in front of her. Her scent changed to one of uncertainty, and he realized he stared.
Clearing his throat, he gestured toward the center picture of a laughing Lydia and her daughter sitting on a slide together. “Pretty little lady.”
Her smile was fleeting. “Thanks. She’s my life.”
An awkward silence fell, and Roman took a step forward. “I’m sorry for all—”
“Please excuse the—”
They both paused, and genuine chuckles followed.
“You first.” He nodded to her.
She advanced into the room and smoothed a blanket on the back of her well-worn couch. “I’m sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”
Roman glanced around. “I don’t know how you live like this.” He loved the way her eyes widened in shock. “I spotted a piece of lint while you were at the door. Clearly, you need an intervention.”
Her mouth dropped open, and then the most incredible laughter burst forth. It surprised him how easily he teased her when he wanted nothing more than to feast at her throat.
She unconsciously touched the blanket, picking at loose strings while her eyes sparkled with a moment of joy.
Roman rubbed the back of his neck. She would feel like heaven and taste even better.
“The storm is getting worse.” She tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to cause you all this trouble.”
“No trouble.” He knew he sounded guttural.
The thoughts he’d entertained in the late hours of the night were far less than pure, and the chance to be under the same roof with her had been too good to pass up. I’m still a man.
Roman had been watching Lydia for weeks, ever since Simon appeared in his city following her. Roman
’s crew had done some checking, and he’d read through the reports with a fine-toothed comb. There had been no mention of a child. He hadn’t even been positive she was a Barbatus until her blood had spilled near that alley earlier in the evening.
“I have a guest bedroom. I’ll just go get it ready.”
She fled the living room in a rush, and the corner of his mouth lifted. Lydia was far different than he’d expected. He strolled behind her to lounge in the doorway. She had her back to him, cleaning and moving things off the bed.
Her scrubs left a little too much to the imagination, but he liked the way they made her ass look. Drawing in a deep breath, he inhaled her sweet scent. She smelled good enough to eat, he thought as his cock twitched. Would she moan when he bit her? Would she beg him in that sexy voice of hers? His fangs descended, and the blood roared in his ears.
She would taste just like...Ione, the demon’s voice whispered from the back of his mind. Vampiric hunger tore through him, ripping apart his fantasy and spinning him back in time to the ashes of his memories where he’d first taken Ione. Her cries of pleasure…smell of her skin. She had arched into his touch even as her mind rebelled against what he was.
Roman blinked and slammed back into the present with a silent intake of breath. He stumbled from the room, desperately praying to whatever gods hadn’t forsaken him that Lydia had not seen his face or the evidence of his lust.
His dick pressed against his pants in painful clarity. He had to get away from her before he ripped off her clothes and fucked her on every piece of furniture she owned.
An open doorway caught his eye, and he escaped into a bathroom, flipping a switch and flooding the room with light. He shut the door, rushed to the sink, and turned on the cold water.
Yanking his jacket off in record time, he dropped it onto the counter as his fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons, sending a few flying under the strain.
Roman bent over and splashed water onto his face, trying to shock his system into calm. Every breath was predatory, and his fangs ached to bury into her flesh, her blood.
Dark lust pounded through him as he stood there clenching the edge of the sink. He stared at his reflection, willing the demon to retreat and his eyes to calm. The feral light burning in their depths mocked him. He wasn’t human no matter how much he wanted to pretend.
Pain pinched his side as he yanked the shirt off. It was a welcome distraction over the thoughts consuming him. He lifted his arm and turned toward the mirror. The puncture wound Simon had inflicted was angry red and slow to close. Roman needed to have his team pick up the silver spike as soon as possible.
His ears picked up a muffled gasp soft enough that a normal human wouldn’t have heard it over the sound of running water. He clenched his jaw and dipped his hands under the spray again, willing her to get away from him.
Lydia’s scent drifted into the room, forcing him to cup a handful of cold water and bury his face in it. The icy bite of it helped to rein in the beast. One wrong move on her part, and he’d be on her.
His cock still strained against his zipper, and there would be no way to hide it from her if he straightened now. Her heart raced powerfully enough he could taste the change in the air. His demon rode too close to the surface, and he was quickly losing the battle.
Roman turned off the faucet and reached for a towel to dry his face when he felt her retreat. She’d left and quietly closed the door behind her. So innocent. She had no idea a predator stood in her bathroom.
A tentative knock came a moment later. “Roman?” Her voice was husky and low.
“Just a minute.” He took several deep breaths, willing himself to calm. It was going to be a long night.
Roman opened the door, and she fell into his arms. “Whoa.”
Dainty fingers spread across his bare chest. Whatever quip he’d wanted to say abruptly died on his lips. Her pupils dilated and her body heat rose. It was an aphrodisiac to his starved senses.
He gripped her arms to steady them both, but nothing could stop his reaction to her. Lydia’s lovely pink mouth opened, and Roman could only watch in fascination as her tongue wet her bottom lip.
Her eyes widened, and she suddenly jerked her hands back. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to let her go.
“Sorry.” Her cheeks were bright red with shy embarrassment. It was endearing yet torturous to his aching cock.
“I was going to tell you that the room was ready.” Lydia turned on her heel and almost ran into the door in her haste to leave. She ducked the near collision, escaping to the hallway.
Roman put his hands on his hips and stared up the ceiling. What the hell am I doing? Everything about the woman made him want her, and it was going to be the death of him. He swept his tongue over a fang.
Grabbing his clothes from the counter, he joined her in the hall.
“There are still boxes in there, but I got them mostly out of the way. We’d been using it for storage.” She nodded toward an open door a few feet up on the left.
“I appreciate it. I’m a bit of a night person, so I probably won’t sleep much.” He drifted to the bedroom and laid his clothes on top of a box. A chocolate-brown comforter rested neatly on the foot of the bed. It would be so easy to coax her into crawling under it with him.
Roman knew she was attracted to him. He’d known too many women over the centuries not to see the signs. He could even use a little mental persuasion to get what he wanted, if he were so inclined. The curse was the only thing that stopped him. And something else…but he’d explore that later.
Lydia came into the room and held out a folded towel she’d gotten from the hall closet. “There’s a washcloth inside. Soap, shampoo, and conditioner are in the bathroom.” She flicked a glance at his chest, and the pink flush was back. “I don’t think I have any clothes big enough to fit you.”
He ignored the way her words suggested others had been there. She has a daughter. There were others.
Roman accepted the towel and slowly looked her over. “No, I don’t think you’re my size.”
She rolled her eyes and the nervousness seemed to evaporate.
Roman’s shoulders relaxed a little. “You really don’t have to worry. I have clothes in the car. I’ll just go grab them before I shower.”
“You carry extra clothes with you?”
“I’m always prepared. You never know when you’re going to be stuck out in a blizzard.” He winked at her. “Don’t concern yourself with me. You need to get some rest.”
“Right.” She gave a slight nod and turned to go.
Roman ran a palm over his face. There was only so much a man could take, and he was no saint. His gaze zeroed in on her ass as she walked away. Definitely not a saint.
Tossing the towel onto the bed, he grabbed his jacket and slid his fingers over the cell in his pocket. He needed to check in with his office. His first priority was making sure Lydia was safe. Simon couldn’t touch her with Roman there, but that wouldn’t stop the bastard from trying.
He strode from the room and ducked into the living room where she stood, donned his jacked, and slipped on his shoes. “I’m going out to grab my clothes.” Flashing her a quick smile, he stepped outside.
Snow had given way to frigid pebbles of ice that trickled down his collar to his bare skin. It was a welcome distraction. He turned on the cell and called his office.
Madison picked up on the first ring. “What’s up, boss?”
“Have you found out any information about the murders?”
“Not a whole lot more than we already knew. It’s definitely the same MO as the ones in your case file. Did you run into Slutlana tonight?”
Roman opened the back of the SUV, letting the hatch rise and settle, grateful that it blocked some of the ice and wind. “No, and if Svetlana ever gets wind of that nickname, no place on earth will be safe for you.” He tucked the phone against his shoulder. “Run another trace on Simon.”
“What’s fang boy up to now?”<
br />
“Madison...”
“Sure thing, boss. Geesh.” Her fingers were busy typing in the background. “Nothing on the radar since last week. He may have gone underground. Not even a groupie sighting. It’s not like him to lay off the fang bangers.”
“Seriously. I’m right here. Can you pick another body part besides fangs to joke about?”
Her laugh was quick and warm. “I make no promises.” She made a noise of frustration. “What am I looking for exactly?”
“I ran into Simon tonight.”
“Where?”
“Here. He accosted Lydia Hughes.”
“What?” Her voice turned instantly hard. “My city is filling up with undead assholes. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah. I’m with her now.” He glanced at the cloud-covered sky. “I think this weather is going to keep me snowed in. Get as much information as you can. With Simon in town, you can bet Svetlana’s bloodlust is behind the latest murders throughout the city.”
Madison cursed. “I’m on it.”
Roman retrieved the overnight bag and slammed the hatch shut. “And another thing.”
“Yep?” Her voice sounded distracted, telling him she was busy following his order.
“Lydia Hughes has a daughter.”
The line went quiet for a moment. “What? There’s no way we could have missed that.”
“Look for blood relations, taxes, whatever it takes. I want to know what else we may have missed.” His voice deepened. “And I want the name of the child’s father.”
She clucked her tongue. “Why do we need this now? Does it affect the case?”
“Every detail is important when it comes to Lydia.”
“Uh-huh.” She didn’t say another word.
“Just do it, Madison.”
“Gotta go. The mutt just walked in.”
Roman heard a growl of irritation from Max, the mutt she referred to, before the line went dead. He sighed and slipped the phone back inside his pocket. Her pet names for the creatures she came in contact with might just get her killed one day. She was only human.
Lydia's Secret (The Secret Series Book 1) Page 3
