Roman (The Clutch Series Book 1)

by Heidi McLaughlin

  Before leaving my bathroom, I make sure my cross is centered between my breasts. I still wear it and plan to continue doing so. It doesn’t bother Roman, and it’s not like it keeps my virtue intact, and he should never have any reason to compel me. The only place I can’t wear it is at Clutch. Roman knows I’m still unsure of his hang out, but have promised him we’d go because it’s really the only place we can be free without people commenting or staring at us in disgust.

  Downstairs at the pool, my two best friends wait for me. Already, I can sense the tension between them. Since Lana’s admission of sleeping with the vampire at her gym, she and Leslie have been at odds. Maybe having lunch with them today is a mistake, although I do look hot in the new outfit Roman bought for me. It’s like he knew I needed the new Lanvin hat and matching scarf, which is perfect for today because there’s is no hiding the bruising or explaining it as anything other than what it is, a bite mark. Groaning internally, I take uneasy steps toward the table where they’re sitting. I hate feeling like I have something to hide, even though I do.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.” I sit and purposely leave my ensemble intact. It’s not exactly kosher, but I’m all about change these days.

  “Is that the new Lanvin?” Leslie asks.

  I nod. “It is. Did you know Olivier Lapidus took over? His design eye is simply amazing.” When Roman presented me with this wide-brimmed hat, I thought he was joking. The demand is incredible, and unless you go to France, getting one stateside is extremely hard. I asked Roman if he went to France while I slept, and he laughed, telling me that despite his ability to move lightning fast, he couldn’t, much to his chagrin, walk on or through the water. He would have to fly or take a boat like an ordinary human.

  “Your sunglasses are new too. Did your father give you a raise?” Leslie wants to know. She’s right about the sunglasses, but they were a gift last week from Roman, not yesterday. He gave me the Dolce and Gabbana’s the same day he tried to kill me with the flowers.

  “Someone has a beau,” Lana says, making me wish I had told her beforehand. Honestly, I don’t know why I didn’t. Maybe it’s because I want to keep Roman to myself, enjoy him a little before we have to play the couples game. It’s okay going out with Lydia and Damen because they’re like us, but Lana isn’t serious about her vamp, at least not that I know of.

  “No, nothing like that,” I say, feeling about three feet tall for lying. I’d love to stand on top of the table and shout that I’m falling in love with Roman, who oddly enough doesn’t have a surname name. I asked Lydia how that works and she said she’s known as Lydia, wife of Damen. Nothing more is needed when it comes to their laws. Also, there isn’t a single vampire in the world with the same name. Color me shocked.

  “Wait, you tried those on the other day when we went shopping,” Lana says.

  “You went shopping without me?” Leslie looks hurt, precisely what I wanted to avoid.

  “We ran into each other,” I lie, and hate myself for doing so. I look at Lana and wish she could see my eyes as I plead with her to shut her mouth. I’m not in the business of hurting Leslie, at least not on purpose. “I went back and bought them.”

  “Daddy’s black American Express getting a workout, huh?”

  “Something like that,” I smirk at Lana, thinking I should’ve sat closer to her so I could kick her for being a bitch right now.

  The waitress appears, wearing a scarf. I want to laugh, but the realization on Leslie’s face is anything but a joke. She looks from her to me, and it’s like I can see the wheels spinning slowly in her head.

  “Is this a new trend? I must’ve missed it.” She picks up her phone and starts pressing the screen rapidly, undoubtedly surfing through one of her many fashion magazines, looking for this current fad.

  “What can I get you, ladies?” the waitress asks, wholly disenchanted with Leslie’s issue.

  “I’ll have the Cobb salad and iced tea, please,” I tell her.

  “Same,” says Lana.

  “I’ll have…” Leslie flips through the menu, one she’s seen well over twenty times in the past month, to decide. Leslie finally orders, but it isn’t without some fanfare. She wants a cobb salad as well, but everything has to be on the side. It’s only after the waitress has left, does she look at me. “I shouldn’t have ordered.”

  “Um… why not? We’re here to have lunch,” I point out.

  Leslie folds her hands on top of the table and looks in my direction, at least I think she is, but I can’t tell for sure because of her sunglasses. “The trend says this is a new fashion for women to wear if they’ve been bitten by a… I can’t even bring myself to say the word. Anyway, they’re calling the new line of scarves, Once Bitten. I find it funny you have their number one seller.”

  I swallow hard at her statement and begin to laugh. I figure if I play it off as a coincidence, she’ll be none the wiser.

  “You got bit, didn’t you? Did you sleep with that sexy vamp I met?” My mouth goes dry at Lana’s outburst. Right now, I want to crawl under the table and hide, while simultaneously beating the crap out of Lana and her big mouth.

  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.

  “Put the fangs away, babe. I think it’s a good thing.” She gets up and walks to the dressing table to finish getting ready.

  In a flash, I’m at her side, angry. “What are you planning to discuss, Fiona?” I ask again, with more fervor, my voice low and agitated.

  “He is a reasonable man, Roman. I believe if I sit down and have a frank chat with him about the good your casino will do for the community, and how in turn, granting the permit would make him look good, he will come to see it is the right thing to do. Approve your license.”

  Humans concern themselves with trying to reason with each other far too much. This is a terrible idea, and I hope from my expression that she can see I’m displeased. To maintain composure, I merely ask, “Do you really think that’s such a good idea? It hasn’t been that long since…” I don’t need to finish my sentence.

  Crossing her arms and facing me sternly she replies. “Look, Roman, he’s still my dad. He’s not the greatest man of all time. He’s got some skeletons in his closet that he knows I could expose. I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing it for the children. And he’s my father, you can’t tell me what to do, so don’t even bother trying.” She raises her hand to her cross and fidgets with it uncomfortably.

  It distresses me to make her feel bad about her relationship with her father, but I have seen how humans like him behave over the last five centuries, and it’s not right. They’ll betray and forsake their own blood for money and power, and my instincts tell me that he’s no different.

  “I wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do, but may I give you my opinion?” I never need to demand of her, and she gives me her full attention, with less defensive posturing.

  “Of course you can, I’m sorry,” she says.

  “I know that he is your father, but we do agree that he has a rather unsavory character. Would that be a fair assessment?”

  “Yes, that would be fair.” She rolls her eyes, awaiting the rest.

  “Then perhaps this isn’t the best time. It’s too soon, and you’ve not reconciled your personal differences just yet. Before you go threatening to uncover all of his dirty deeds, maybe you should consider getting back into his good graces instead? Then, once you’re on more cordial terms, you start asking for favors and understanding?” Literally the most diplomatic thing that’s ever fallen from my lips. What I wanted to say was fuck this guy, I don’t need his license or his casino. I can fund the orphanage on my own, or I could compel a human to get the license for me if that’s what I wanted. What I don’t fucking want, is her father meddling in our lives. But I stay prudent and gracious.

  She looks at me thoughtfully again, scanning my face for a sign of some kind. “While I don’t disagree with your strategy overall, I think with my father direct and brutal is the way to go.”

  I’d love to be brutal with him. I’ll not soon be over the almost staking.

  “I will never tell you what to do, and I’ll support you in any way that I can. Perhaps I should go with you.”

  “You most certainly should not!” she exclaims.

  “Why not? What if you need my protection?”

  “I will not need protection. My dad is a conniving asshole, but he’s not going to do anything that requires any sort of protection. So you just stand down, vampire. We don’t need another scene. I have this under control.”

  “As you wish, Fiona,” I reply. I lean down to kiss her, pulling her into my arms. She smells like fresh linen that’s been out in the sun to dry. Clean, and pristine, I want to drag her back to bed and soil the sheets again, just like we did the night before. I deepen our kiss, hoping to lure her back into my bed, and at first, she seems to concede. She then breaks away, giving me one more small kiss before she gathers the things she needs for her day.

  “Lana was hoping we could all get together for a late dinner. Are you free tonight?” she asks, hopefully.

  “For you, I am always free,” I reply, garnering a sweet smile from her. I don’t particularly enjoy going out to dinner, other than for the fact that I want her to be healthy and fed. I’ve been considering hiring a personal chef so that she has food whenever she wants here. I wouldn’t know how to make anything, nor do I want to bother learning a skill that will serve no purpose at the end of her life.

  My thoughts turn to the end of her life. She is young, and if she marries me, we will have many years together. But not an eternity. Wasting time like she is today frustrates me. We should be enjoying our limited time together. Not pandering to a man who wants me and my whole kind dead.

  20

  Fiona

  Al
l day, I waited for my father to come into his office. Each time I stopped by, the sickeningly sweet secretary placated me with canned responses. He’s in a meeting. He’s at lunch. He’s at an appointment. Never mind the fact, he didn’t call me once he found out I came into his office, which is so unlike him. If he’s trying to send a message, it’s being received loud and clear.

  I angle my neck, turning my head left and right, checking to see if Roman’s teeth marks can be spotted through the tattoo cover-up cream I bought the other day. So far, I’ve been able to keep the bruising hidden, which has allowed me to keep my relationship with Roman a secret. It’s not that I want to hide him, but until I can get my father to understand, it’s the only way to survive right now.

  Roman’s right, the incident with him and dad is likely still fresh in my father’s mind, but I’m going to reassure him he has nothing to fear when it comes to my vampire. Although I won’t be able to use those exact words, in my mind, it’s what I’ll say because when it comes right down to it, Roman’s mine.

  I’ve never been a possessive girlfriend until now. Honestly, I’m not sure if I am controlling when it comes to Roman or if it’s the bond between us doing some underlying mysticism crap. As much as I didn’t want to believe in the vampire/human bond thing, there’s no denying it. When Roman is near, I can sense his need, not only to consume my life force to quench his hunger but also his desire to fuck me. I don’t know if he realizes this, but he lets off a pheromone so intense when he’s thinking about me, it makes my blood dance. The energy I feel, detecting his presence is something I’ve never felt before. At first, I didn’t like it. The sensation was odd and uncomfortable as if I had taken speed and was reaching my peak. My skin prickled and my heart raced, and it scared me. After a few times with Roman, I figured it out. It’s the bond, working in some mysteriously magical way and now I find it soothing, relaxing and dare say, exciting. Mostly because I know what’s coming.