How To Marry A Millionaire Vampire (2 page)

Roman studied the small switch and U-shaped cut. At the base of the U, a small tube protruded with a clamp on the end. “You put a tube in her?”

“Yes. It’s specifically designed to simulate a real artery. We developed a circular pattern inside her.” Laszlo ran his finger over her body to show the location of the false artery. “It travels through her chest cavity, then up one side of her neck and down the other, finally returning to the chest.”

“And you fill it with blood?”

“Yes, sir. She’ll come packaged with a free funnel. Blood and batteries not included.”

“They never are,” Roman noted dryly.

“She’s easy to use.” Laszlo pointed at the doll’s neck. “You remove the clamp, insert the small funnel, select two quarts of your favorite blood from Romatech Industries, and fill her up.”

“I see. Does she light up when she’s running low?”

Laszlo frowned. “I suppose I could put in an indicator light-“

“I was kidding.” Roman sighed. “Please continue.”

“Yes, sir.” Laszlo cleared his throat. “The switch here turns on a small pump inserted inside her chest cavity. A false heart, so to speak. It will cause the blood to flow through the artery and simulate a real pulse.”

Roman nodded. “And that’s where the batteries come in.”

“Mmm,” Gregori’s voice sounded muffled. “She keeps going and going.”

Roman glanced at his vice president and found him raking his teeth over VANNA’s big toe. The red glow in Gregori’s eyes served as a different sort of indicator light. “Gregori! Back off.”

With a low growl, Gregori dropped the doll’s foot. “You’re no fun anymore.”

Roman took a deep breath and wished he could pray for patience. But no self-respecting God would want to hear the supplications of a demon with a mortal sex toy. “Has she been tested yet?”

“No, sir.” Laszlo flipped on VANNA’s switch. “We thought you should have the honor of being first.”

First. Roman’s gaze swept over the doll’s perfect body, a body that now pulsed inside with life-giving blood. “So at last, a vampire can have his cake and bite it, too.”

Gregori smiled as he smoothed out his black dinner jacket. “The taste test challenge. Enjoy.”

Roman arched an eyebrow at his vice president of marketing. No doubt, this testing was Gregori’s idea. He probably thought his boss needed a little excitement to feel alive. Unfortunately, he was right.

Roman extended a hand to touch VANNA’s neck. The skin was cooler than a real human’s, but still very soft. Beneath his fingertips, the artery throbbed, strong and constant. At first, he felt the pulse with only his fingers, but then the pounding sensation crept up his arm and into his shoulder. He swallowed hard. How long had it been? Eighteen years?

The pulse spread inside him, filling his empty heart and all his senses. His nostrils flared. He could smell the blood now. Type A Positive. His favorite. His entire body throbbed in sync with the female. His rational thought seeped away, overpowered by a driving sensation he hadn’t experienced in years. Bloodlust.

A growl vibrated deep in his throat. His groin hardened. He curled his fingers around the doll’s neck and dragged her toward him.

“I’ll take her.” With lightning speed, he tossed her onto a velvet reading chaise. She lay still, her legs still bent and now sagging open at the knees. The erotic sight was almost too much to bear. The small amount of blood in Roman’s veins cried out for more. More woman. More blood.

He sat and brushed her blond hair away from her neck. Her dopey grin was a bit disconcerting, but easily ignored. As he leaned over, he caught sight of a reflection in her blank, glass eyes. Not him, for his form could not be mirrored. All he could see were the red, glowing lights of his own eyes. VANNA had turned him on. He turned her face away to expose her neck. The pulsing artery within her sang out, Take me. Take me.

With a low growl, he pressed against her body. His fangs sprang out, causing a ripple of pleasure to surge through his body. The scent of blood rushed through him, stripping away the last shreds of self-control. The beast within was unleashed.

He bit her. Too late, his frenzied mind realized an unusual fact. Her skin might feel soft on the surface like a human’s, but the inner texture was totally different. Tough, thick, rubbery plastic. If this was relevant, it didn’t register, for the smell of blood shattered his thoughts. His instincts claimed victory, howling in his brain like a starving animal. He sank his fangs in deeper and deeper, till at last he felt that sweet popping sensation as he broke through the arterial wall. Heaven. He was swimming in blood.

With a long suck, the blood gushed into his fangs and filled his mouth. He gulped it down and greedily drank more. She was delicious. She was his.

He smoothed a hand down to her breast and squeezed. What a fool he’d been, content to sip blood from a glass. How could that possibly replace the hot rush of blood flowing through one’s fangs? By the devil, he’d forgotten how sweet this was. It was a total body experience. He was rock hard. All his senses were on fire. He’d never drink from a glass again.

With another tug on her neck, he realized he’d drained her dry. Good to the last drop. But then a touch of clarity broke through the sensual daze. Bloody hell, he’d lost control. If she were mortal, she’d be dead. And he would have murdered another child of God.

How could this possibly advance the cause of civilized vampire behavior? This doll would remind every vampire how intensely pleasurable it was to bite. No vampire, even the most evolved, modern-day Vamp, could partake of this experience without wanting the real thing. All he could think about now was biting the first live female he came across. VANNA was not the answer to human preservation.

She was the death knell to their existence.

With a groan, Roman ripped his mouth away from her neck. Blood splattered onto the doll’s white skin, and at first, he thought she’d sprung a leak. But no, he was sure he’d drained her dry. Damn, the blood was coming from him. “What the hell?”

“Oh my God,” Laszlo whispered.

“What?” Roman looked at her neck and there, lodged in the tough plastic, was one of his fangs.

“Sheesh!” Gregori stepped closer for a good look. “How’d that happen?”

“The plastic—” More blood dripped from Roman’s mouth. Damn, he was losing his lunch. “The plastic is too tough and rubbery inside. Not at all like human skin.”

“Oh dear.” Laszlo attacked another button with his nervous fingers. “This is terrible. The texture was so real on the outside. I didn’t realize… I’m so sorry, sir.”

“That’s the least of our problems.” Roman wrenched his tooth from the girl’s neck. He’d explain his unfortunate conclusions later. For now, he needed his fang fixed.

“You’re still bleeding.” Gregori handed him a white handkerchief.

“The feeding vein that connects to the fang is open.” Roman pressed the handkerchief against the gaping hole where his right fang should be. “Thit.”

“You could use your own healing powers to seal the vein shut,” Laszlo suggested.

“It would be clothed permanently. I’d be a one-thided eater for all eternity.” Roman removed the bloody handkerchief from his mouth and reinserted his fang into the hole.

Gregori leaned over to look. “I think you got it.”

Roman released his hold on the tooth and attempted to retract his fangs. The left fang did as it should, but the right one fell from his mouth and landed on VANNA’s stomach. More blood seeped from the wound. “Shit.” Roman stuffed the handkerchief back in his mouth.

“Sir, I suggest you go to a dentist.” Laszlo picked up the fang and offered it to Roman. “I’ve heard they can put a lost tooth back.”

“Oh, right.” Gregori snorted. “What’s he supposed to do, waltz into a dental office and say, ‘Excuse me, I’m a vampire and I lost a fang in the neck of a sex toy.’ They’re not going to line up to help him.”

“I need a vampire dentitht,” Roman announced. “Look in the Black Pageth.”

“The Black Pages?” Gregori zoomed to Roman’s desk and began opening drawers. “You know, you’re starting to lisp.”

“I have a bloody rag in my mouth! Look in the bottom drawer.”

Gregori located the black phone directory for vampire-owned businesses and flipped it open to reveal the white pages within. “Okay.” He ran a finger down the advertisements. “Cemetery plots. Coffin repair. Crypt-keeper services. Custom-made crypts—fifty percent off. Interesting.”

“Gregori,” Roman growled.

“Right.” He turned the page. “Okay. D’s. Dance lessons—learn to move like a Latin lover. Dirt deliveries— sleep like a baby in topsoil from the Old Country. Dracula costumes—small to plus sizes.”

Roman groaned. “I’m in deep thit.” He swallowed hard and grimaced at the taste of stale blood. The meal had tasted better the first time down.

Gregori turned another page. “Draperies—guaranteed to block out that annoying sunlight. Dungeons—your choice of several floor plans.” He sighed. “That’s it. No dentists.”

Roman slumped into a wingback chair. “I’ll have to go to a mortal.” Damn. He’d have to use mind control, then wipe the dentist’s memory clean afterward. Otherwise no mortal would be willing to help him.

“We may have trouble finding a mortal dentist who’s available in the middle of the night.” Laszlo dashed to the wet bar and grabbed a roll of paper towels. Then he proceeded to wipe the blood off VANNA. He gave Roman a worried look. “Sir, it might be best for you to keep the tooth in your mouth.”

At the desk, Gregori thumbed through the Yellow Pages. “Sheesh, there’s a ton of dentists.” He straightened with a jerk and grinned. “I found it! SoHo SoBright Dental Clinic—open twenty-four hours a day for the city that never sleeps. Bingo.”

Laszlo let out a deep breath. “What a relief. I’m not sure, since I’ve never heard of anything like this happening before, but I’m afraid if your fang is not successfully implanted tonight, then it never will be.”

Roman sat up. “What do you mean?”

Laszlo threw the bloodied paper towels in a trash can by the desk. “Our injuries are naturally healed while we sleep. If dawn comes and you fall asleep with your fang still missing, your body will close the feeding veins and the wound for good.”

Shit. Roman stood. “Then it mutht be done tonight.”

“Yes, sir.” Laszlo fingered a button on his lab coat. “With any luck, you’ll be in perfect shape for the annual conference.”

God’s blood! Roman gulped. How could he have forgotten the annual spring conference? The Gala Opening Ball was scheduled for two nights from tonight. All the major coven masters from around the world would be there. As master of the largest coven in America, Roman was hosting the big event. If he showed up, missing a fang, he’d be the brunt of jokes for the next century.

Gregori grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down the address. “Here you go. You want us to come with you?”

Roman removed the handkerchief and tooth from his mouth so his directions would be clear. “Laszlo will drive me. We’ll take VANNA with us so everyone will assume we’re taking her back to the lab. You, Gregori, will go out with Simone as planned. Nothing will appear out of the ordinary.”

“Very well.” Gregori zipped over to his boss and handed him the address of the dental clinic. “Good luck. If you need any help, just give me a call.”

“I’ll be fine.” Roman gave his two employees a stern look. “This incident will not be spoken of again, not to anyone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Laszlo picked VANNA up.

Roman watched the chemist’s hand curve around one plump buttock. God’s blood, with all that had happened, he was still hard. His body thrummed with desire, craving more blood and more female flesh. He could only hope that this dentist would be male. God help any mortal female who crossed his path right now.

He still had one fang, and he was afraid he’d use it.

It was another endlessly boring night at the dental clinic. Shanna Whelan leaned back in the squeaky office chair and gazed at the white ceiling tiles. The water stain was still there. What a surprise. It had taken her three nights to conclude that the stain was the exact shape of a dachshund. Such was her life.

With another loud creak, she straightened in her chair and glanced at the clock radio. Two-thirty in the morning. Six hours left on her shift. She turned the radio on. Elevator music droned forth to fill the office, an uninspired, instrumental version of “Strangers in the Night.” Yeah, like she was going to meet a tall, dark, handsome stranger and fall in love. Not in her boring life. Last night, the pinnacle of her evening had been when she learned how to make her chair squeak in time with the music.

With a groan, she folded her arms on the desk and pillowed her head. How did the saying go? Be careful what you ask for because you might get it? Well, she had begged for boring, and boy, did she have it. In the six weeks she’d been working at the clinic, she’d had one customer. A young boy with braces. In the middle of the night, a wire had come loose in his mouth. His frantic parents had brought him here so she could reconnect the wire. Otherwise the loose wire could have stabbed the inside of the boy’s mouth, resulting in… blood.

Shanna shuddered. Just the thought of blood made her woozy. Memories of the Incident swelled in the dark recesses of her brain, gruesome bloody images that taunted her, threatening to come into the light. No, she would not let them ruin her day. Or her new life. They belonged to another life, another person. They belonged to the brave and happy girl she’d been for the first twenty-seven years of her life before all hell had broken loose. Now, thanks to the Witness Protection Program, she was boring Jane Wilson, who lived in a boring loft in a boring neighborhood and spent every night at a boring job.

Boring was good. Boring was safe. Jane Wilson had to remain invisible and disappear into the ocean of countless faces in Manhattan for the sole purpose of staying alive. Unfortunately, it seemed that even boredom could cause stress. There was just too much time to think. Time to remember.

She switched off the music and paced across the empty waiting room. Eighteen chairs, upholstered in alternating hues of dusty blue and green, lined the pale blue walls. A framed copy of Monet’s Water Lilies hung on one wall in an effort to inject calm serenity into nervous patients. Shanna doubted it worked. She was as edgy as ever.

Usually busy during the day, the clinic was a lonely place at night. Just as well. If anyone came in with a serious problem, Shanna was no longer sure she could deal with it. She’d been a good dentist before the… Incident. Don’t think about that. But what would she do if someone actually came to the clinic with an emergency? Just last week, she’d accidentally nicked herself shaving her legs.

One tiny drop of blood and her knees had shaken so badly, she’d been forced to lie down.

Maybe she should give up dentistry. So what if she lost her career? She’d lost everything else, including her family. The Department of Justice had made it clear. Under no circumstances was she to contact any family members or old friends. Not only would it put her own life back in jeopardy, but it would endanger those she loved.

Boring Jane Wilson had no family or friends. She had one assigned U.S. marshal she could talk to. No wonder she’d gained ten pounds in the last two months. Eating was about the only thrill left to her. That and talking to the handsome young pizza delivery guy. She quickened her pace as she circled the waiting room. If she kept eating pizza every night, she’d puff up like a whale, and then the bad guys might never recognize her. She could be safe and fat for the rest of her life. Shanna groaned. Safe, fat, bored, and lonesome.

A knock at the front door brought her skidding to a stop. Probably the pizza delivery guy, but even so, for a second her heart had lurched in her chest. She took a deep breath and ventured toward the front windows. She peeked through the white mini-blinds she always kept closed at night so no one could see inside.

“It’s me, Dr. Wilson,” Tommy called. “I’ve got your pizza.”

“All right.” She unlocked the door. The clinic might be open for business all night, but she still took precautions. She only unlocked the door for legitimate customers. And pizza.

“Hey, Doc.” Tommy sauntered in with a grin. For the last two weeks, the teenager had made a delivery every night, and Shanna enjoyed his adolescent attempts at flirtation as much as the pizza. In fact, this was the highlight of her day. Jeez, she was on the fast track to becoming pathetic.

“Hi, Tommy. How’s it going?” She went to the office counter to locate her purse.

“I’ve got your giant pepperoni right here.” Tommy tugged on the waistband of his loose jeans, then let go. The jeans slid slightly down his narrow hips, revealing three inches of silk Scooby Doo boxer shorts.

“But I ordered a small one.”

“I wasn’t talking about the pizza, Doc.” Tommy gave her a big wink and set the pizza box on the counter.

“Right. Well, that was a bit too cheesy for me. And I don’t mean the pizza, either.”

“Sorry.” With pink-tinted cheeks, he gave her a sheepish smile. “A guy’s gotta try, you know.”

“I suppose so.” She paid for the pizza.

“Thanks.” Tommy pocketed the money. “You know, we make a jillion kinds of pizza. You ought to try something new.”

“Maybe I will. Tomorrow.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s what you said last week.”

The phone rang, splitting the air with its shrill sound. Shanna jumped.

“Whoa, Doc. Maybe you should switch to decaf.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard that phone ring since I started working here.” The phone jangled once again. Wow, a pizza guy and a ringing phone at the same time. This was more excitement than she’d seen in weeks.

“I’ll let you get to work. See you tomorrow, Dr. Wilson.” Tommy waved good-bye and swaggered toward the front door.

“Bye.” Shanna admired his low-slung jeans from the back. She was definitely going on a diet. After the pizza. The phone rang again, and she lifted the receiver. “SoHo SoBright Dental Clinic. May I help you?”

“Yes, you may,” the man’s gruff voice was followed by a heavy breath. Then another.

Oh, great. A pervert to brighten her evening. “I believe you have the wrong number.” She started to lower the receiver when she heard his voice again.

“I believe you have the wrong name, Shanna.”

She gasped. It had to be a mistake. Yeah, and Shanna is such a common name. People were always calling places, asking for Shanna. Who was she kidding? Should she hang up? No, they already knew who she was.

And where she was. Terror jolted through her. Oh my God, they were coming for her.

Calm down! She had to remain calm. “I’m afraid you have the wrong number. This is Dr. Jane Wilson at the SoHo SoBright Dental—“

“Cut the crap! We know where you are, Shanna. It’s payback time.” Click. The call was over, and the nightmare was back.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no.” She dropped the receiver in place and realized she was mumbling louder and louder, working her way up to a full-fledged scream. Get a grip! She mentally slapped herself and punched in the numbers 911.

“This is Dr. Jane Wilson at the SoHo SoBright Dental Clinic. I… we’re under attack!” She gave the address, and the dispatcher assured her a squad car was on the way. Right. With an ETA of ten minutes past the time of her murder, no doubt.

With a gasp, she remembered the front door was unlocked. She sprinted to the door and locked it. As she dashed through the clinic to the back door, she grabbed her cell phone from her lab coat pocket and punched the number of her assigned U.S. marshal.

First ring. “Come on, Bob. Pick up.” She reached the back door. All the deadbolts were secure. Second ring.

Oh no! What a stupid waste of time. The entire front of the clinic was glass. Locking the door wouldn’t keep anyone out. They’d simply shoot through the glass. Then they’d shoot her. She needed to think better than this. She needed to get the hell out of here.

The third ring was followed by a click. “Bob, I need help!”

She was interrupted by a bored voice. “I’m away from my desk at the moment, but leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

Beep. “This is bullshit, Bob!” She ran back to the office for her purse. “You said you’d always be there. They know where I am, and they’re coming for me.” She jabbed the END button and dropped the phone back into her pocket. That damned Bob! So much for his saccharine assurances that the government could protect her. She’d show him. Why, she’d… she’d stop paying her taxes. Of course, if she was murdered, that would no longer be a problem.

Focus! she reprimanded herself. This sort of jumbled-up thinking would get her killed. She skidded to a stop at the desk and grabbed her purse. She’d escape out the back and run till she found a taxi. Then, she’d go… where? If they knew where she worked, they probably also knew where she lived. Oh God, she was so screwed.

“Good evening,” a deep voice rumbled across the room.

With a squeal, Shanna jumped. A gorgeous man was standing by the front door. Gorgeous? She was really losing it, if she was checking out a hit man. He held something white against his mouth, but she hardly noticed it, for his eyes caught her attention and didn’t let go. His gaze swept over her, his eyes a golden brown and tinged with hunger.

A spurt of frigid air jabbed at her head, so sudden and intense, she pressed a hand against her temple. “How… how did you get in?”

He continued to stare at her, but with a slight movement of one hand, he motioned toward the door.

“That’s not possible,” she whispered. The locked door and windows were intact. Had he managed to sneak in earlier? No, she would have noticed this man. Every cell in her body was aware of this man. Was it her imagination, or were his eyes growing more golden, more intense?

His shoulder-length black hair curled slightly on the ends. A black sweater accentuated broad shoulders, and black jeans hugged his hips and long legs. He was a tall, dark, and handsome… hit man. My God. He could probably kill a woman just by giving her wildly erratic heart palpitations. In fact, that was probably what he did. He wasn’t carrying a weapon of any kind. Of course, those large hands of his—

Cold pain pierced her head once more, reminding her of the times she’d slurped down a frozen Slushee too fast.

“I have not come to harm you.” His voice was low, almost hypnotic.

That was it. He lured his victims into a trance with his golden eyes and honeyed voice, then before you knew it— she shook her head. No, she could fight this. She would not give in.

He frowned, dark brows drawing closer together. “You are being difficult.”

“You better believe it.” She fumbled in her purse and whipped out her .32-caliber Beretta Tomcat. “Surprise, sucker.”

No shock or fear registered on his rugged face, only a slight hint of irritation. “Madam, the weapon is unnecessary.”

Oh, the safety catch. With trembling fingers, she switched it off, then pointed the gun back at his broad chest. Hopefully, he hadn’t noticed her lack of expertise. She widened her stance and used both hands like she’d seen on cop shows. “I’ve got a full clip with your name on it, scumbag. You’re going down.”

Something sparked in his eyes. It should have been fear, but she could have sworn it was amusement. He stepped toward her. “Drop the gun, please. And the dramatics.”

“No!” She gave him her best and meanest glare. “I’ll shoot. I’ll kill you.”

“Easier said than done.” He took another step toward her.

She raised the gun an inch. “I mean it. I don’t care how incredibly handsome you are. I’ll splatter you all over the room.”

His dark brows rose. Now he looked surprised. Slowly, he inspected her once more, his eyes darkening to the color of hot, molten gold.

“Stop looking at me like that.” Her hands trembled.

He stepped toward her again. “I will not harm you. I need your help.” He lowered the handkerchief from his mouth. Red splotches stained the white cotton. Blood.

Shanna gasped. Her hands lowered. Her stomach lurched. “You… you’re bleeding.”

“Put the gun down before you shoot yourself in the foot.”

“No.” She raised the Beretta again, and tried not to think about blood. After all, if she shot him, there’d be plenty more.

“I need your help. I lost a tooth.”

“You—you’re a customer?”

“Yes. Can you help me?”

“Oh, Sheesh.” She dropped her gun into her purse. “Sorry about this.”

“You don’t normally greet your customers at gunpoint?” His eyes twinkled with more amusement.

Oh, God, he was gorgeous. Just her luck that the perfect man would waltz into her life two minutes before her death. “Look, they’ll be here any second. You’d better get out of here. Fast.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re in trouble?”

“Yes. And if they catch you here, they’ll kill you, too. Come on.” She grabbed her purse. “Let’s go out the back.”

“You are concerned for me?”

She glanced back. He was still hovering by the desk. “Of course. I hate to see innocent people killed.”

“I am not what you would call innocent.”

She snorted. “Did you come here to kill me?”

“No.”

“Innocent enough for me. Come on.” She headed across the examining room.

“Is there another clinic where you can help me with my tooth?”

She turned and caught her breath. He was right behind her, though she hadn’t heard him move. “How did you—“

He opened his hand, palm up. “This is my tooth.”

She flinched. A few drops of blood had pooled in his palm, but with effort, she managed to focus on the tooth. “What? Is this some sort of sick joke? That’s not a human tooth.”

His mouth tightened. “It is my tooth. I need you to put it back in.”

“No way am I implanting an animal tooth in your mouth. That’s just sick. That… that thing’s from a dog. Or a wolf.”

His nostrils flared, and he seemed to grow three inches. His fingers curled around the tooth, forming a fist. “How dare you, madam. I am not a werewolf.”