“I have two tickets to the Global Citizen Gala tonight at the Palace. The Padre is giving a speech and Drayton suggested we attend…I agreed.”
She spun around. The vamp leaned against his desk, watching her as if gauging her response, and she seethed inside. If he thought for one second she would go with him to this fancy dinner, he could take a running jump. “Drayton never mentioned a gala. Just that you had news on the Padre and needed our support,” she said.
The vampire crossed his arms but his eyes bored right into her. He was being annoying, and she slid her focus toward Jake, who studied her too. “Why are you both looking that way at me? You two go and I’ll watch in the wings as support.”
“Nice try, but Jake won’t fit in the dress I’ve picked out. He’s going as security, not as a guest. I’ve sponsored several tables and your name has been added to the guest list. It’s too late to change it. You’re sitting next to me.”
“That suits me,” Jake said.
Isabella flew at Roman, grabbing his lapels on his designer suit, frothing with anger that he would drag her into this. “Why are you doing this?”
The vampire cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “Doing what, Isabella? Trying to figure out what the Padre’s next move is? He seems hell-bent on stirring up trouble between the humans and vampires. I’m trying to keep the peace, because it’s what I do. It’s what Orion does. Have you forgotten? Stirring the races will start a senseless war. I, for one, don’t want that. Now, behave and charm the guests. Do. Your. Job.”
Shocked at his coldness, she stepped back. Roman was right. They were here to do a job. Why was she bringing their past and personal relationship into this? It wasn’t like her to be so emotional. Glancing at Jake, she knew he would agree with Roman on this, but still she argued.
“I can wait outside if you want?” Jake looked more uncomfortable by the minute.
“No,” both Isabella and Roman answered in unison. Returning to face Roman, she carried on, trying to get to the bottom of why he specifically wanted her here.
“Why me…why drag me all the way down here? Surely, you have someone else who can fulfill your specific needs,” Isabella said, pushing in his face.
“You’re letting your petty jealousy get in the way. Still so human after all.”
She huffed at him. She wasn’t jealous but lowered her head, examining her racing thoughts.
Roman tilted her chin up, forcing her to look right into his dark, hypnotic eyes. “You’re here because you’re good at what you do, Isabella, when you’re focused on the task at hand. Plus, I trust you.”
His frank admission shook and confused her. Roman trusted her? She pushed him away and stepped back, aware of how close together they were, trying to make sense of everything.
“We don’t have time to argue, as much as I know you enjoy it. But this is wasting time,” Roman said. “It’s nearly five and cocktails are served at seven. It would look suspicious if there was a sudden change. This is a high-profile event. The tickets costs thousands. Even the vice president will be there.”
Isabella mumbled, moving as far away as possible, and headed for the door, knowing she had no choice but to comply. “Well, I’m not wearing your bloody dress, that’s for sure,” she said and added, “I’m not your plaything,” in a quieter tone.
Roman slid behind her so fast and wrapped his arm around her waist to draw her against his hard, flat chest. He whispered against her ear. “You used to like being my plaything, and when you see the dress, you won’t be able to resist it, I promise.”
The volcanic change in the temperature of his voice was a striking contrast to earlier and it made her thirsty. An icy kiss lingered on her cheek. “But you need a shower—you stink.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A quick two hours later, Isabella sipped her chilled champagne and laughed at the silly joke New York Senator Philip Burr made while ogling her cleavage. Or maybe it was the over-the-top three-tiered fake diamond necklace she wore. Roman had introduced her and left without so much as another word, leaving her with this over touchy-feely gentleman. Despite wanting to kill the vampire for his outrageous behavior, she had to admit, if only to herself, he had exquisite taste when it came to clothing and jewelry. Once inside his modern penthouse—back at his hotel, the one he friggin’ owned…another random fact she learned today—Roman left her, the outfit he had chosen hanging in the guest suite. The vampire didn’t do anything in half measures, leaving shoes and a diamond-studded clutch, along with the over-the-top necklace.
Isabella nodded at the distinguished man facing her with charcoal-gray hair and hazel eyes who enjoyed tweaking his beard as he examined her up and down. Every now and then, he enjoyed rubbing his slimy hand along her arm as she listened to his dirty thoughts with ease. The man had a peculiar fetish for wanting to be spanked. She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing as the senator conjured up his fantasies. Smoothing her hand down the deep wine-colored v-shaped bodice inlaid with delicate crystals, she smiled at the various men and women who gave looks of admiration at her, reading their thoughts with ease—all curious as to who she was. Tiny diamond-encrusted spaghetti straps held the delicate silk and
