Stolen: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance Page 3

  My eyes widened with shock. Was he suggesting for me to have sex with women as well? I hadn’t even had sex with a man yet, and that wasn’t something I’d been trained in. “Oh, no! That’s fine, thank you. I can wait in my room.”

  He suppressed a smile. “Shame. Well, maybe you will change your mind once you become more… experienced.” Roman glanced around. “Ah, you’ll need your bags, too.”

  In a blur of movement, he was suddenly gone again, and I was left standing alone in the room. And then, just as quickly, and with another blur which left me blinking hard, he was back again, my heavy suitcase held easily in one hand. I knew vampires had the ability to move quickly, but I hadn’t been prepared for just how quickly.

  I wondered what else I wasn’t prepared for.

  Chapter Five

  The vampire left me to change, gently shutting the bedroom door behind me. It made me wonder what the point had been of Mother and Christophe getting me all dressed up that morning when Roman Kramar didn’t seem to have any intention of tearing the dress off and feasting on my pampered skin.

  I’d been prepared to hand myself over to a vampire. I’d been trained to say the right words and make the right noises, to touch him in a certain way, and lie back and spread my thighs for him, or climb on top of him, if that was what he wanted. I’d prepared myself to grit my teeth as his fangs punctured my skin, and to groan in pleasure, even if inside I felt like I was dying.

  I hadn’t been prepared to be sent alone to a bedroom. I had one job in life, and that was to be used as a vampire’s plaything. I hadn’t considered the possibility the vampire in question wouldn’t want to play.

  He must, I corrected myself. He’d paid a crazy amount of money for me. Maybe he expects less clothing than the dress and wants you to be clean.

  I had the horrifying thought that he had been able to smell me. Vampires had an extremely heightened sense of smell, and I’d been nervous all day. When I was nervous, I sweated.

  Oh, God, perhaps he thought I stank and that was why he’d asked me to freshen up. The thought left me mortified.

  I had an adjoining bathroom, so I quickly removed the dress Christophe had chosen, together with the tiny slip of a thong I wore, and turned on the shower. Knowing he was waiting for me, I quickly stepped beneath the water, soaped my body, and rinsed off again. I towel dried off, and went to my bag to find fresh underwear and my makeup bag. While I knew I would never do as good a job as Christophe had, I repaired my makeup and then dressed in a clean pair of panties and chose a sheer chemise, with no bra. It was see-through enough to make out the darker buds of my nipples against the creamy color of my breasts.

  I assessed myself in the mirror. My stomach appeared flat, my breasts round, while still retaining their perkiness. A quick twist to take in my rear end confirmed it looked good in the black lace panties. To finish off the outfit, I found a pair of peep-toe pumps with a three-inch heel and a strap around the ankle.

  This was what we’d been taught men and vampires alike enjoyed—sexy women in sexy underwear.

  He wouldn’t be able to resist me.

  Pushing down my nerves, I held up my chin and straightened my shoulders. I felt sure he would be out there waiting for me, perhaps sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, arm slung across the back, as he waited for his owned courtesan to come to him. This is my job, I reminded myself again. I was the seductress, the entertainer, the waiting staff, if I had to be. I was also the meal that was to be served.

  Standing tall in my heels, I opened the bedroom door and strutted back out into the apartment. I spotted the vampire instantly, wearing slacks and a black shirt which was rolled up at the sleeves. He held a glass of something red—either wine or blood, I couldn’t be sure. He was standing in front of the floor to ceiling windows, looking out over the lights of New York. The view was dizzyingly breathtaking, especially for someone like me, who had only ever looked out onto gray concrete walls. For a moment, I forgot my mission to seduce him and sucked in a breath of amazement.

  He must have already heard me enter, but at that breath, his head snapped around. His dark eyes widened as he took in my outfit.

  “What the hell are you wearing, Dakota?”

  My confidence crumbled. “I thought you wanted me to change, to make myself more comfortable.”

  “Yes,” he snapped. “In clothes.”

  “I only have the clothes I was sent with. They’re all kind of like this.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Did you check the closet?”

  “Umm, no, why?”

  “There are regular clothes in there for you. Jeans, some t-shirts.” His eyes flicked down to my footwear. “Some god-damned sneakers.”

  Why was he so angry with me? I’d only just met him and yet I already felt like everything I did was wrong. This wasn’t what I had been expecting at all. I experienced a sudden pang of longing for my home, for my friends, even for Mother. I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since I’d left the place, and now I had some hot but mean vampire looking at me as though I’d just tipped his maker’s ashes all over the floor and then peed on them.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, holding back tears. “I thought you would like it.”

  His expression softened a fraction. “Because that’s what you were taught?”

  I nodded.

  He exhaled an angry sigh and turned away. “Go and change again, Dakota, and then go to bed. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

  Talk? What was there to talk about?

  Understanding when I had been dismissed, I turned and hurried back to my new bedroom, feeling ridiculous in my outfit now instead of sexy. I managed to get the door shut before the tears I’d been holding back streamed down my face. I wrenched the pumps from my feet and threw them to the floor. For the briefest of moments, I considered going to the closet and checking out what sensible clothing he’d bought me, but then I changed my mind. I didn’t have to do everything he told me, and if my being in sexy lingerie made him uncomfortable, then screw him. He could be uncomfortable.

  Why wasn’t he interested in me?

  Was he gay?

  I didn’t think so. I had seen how he’d looked at me. Plus, why would he buy me if he didn’t want to use me? None of it made any sense.

  Feeling utterly alone, I crawled into the massive bed and cuddled up on my side, pulling the comforter up over my shoulders. The bed felt too big, the walls around me too far away. The space was overwhelming, and I felt vulnerable and lonely. I’d have given anything in that moment to have been back at the training center. I wondered if Christa and any of the girls were thinking about me, wondering what I was doing. I bet they all thought I’d be naked and bloodied by now, and definitely no longer a virgin, but instead I was the complete opposite.

  I missed my stark, plain bedroom and narrow, hard bed.

  As the tears continued to fall, dampening the pillow beneath my cheek, I realized I even missed Mother.

  Chapter Six

  I woke late the next morning, filled with confusion about where I was. Other than today, I’d woken in the same bed every morning for the past six years.

  It took me a few seconds to recount the events of the previous day and remember that I was now owned by a vampire called Roman Kramar. A vampire who didn’t seem to want me.

  I was also famished.

  Only my hunger prevented me from hiding in bed for the rest of the day. Still dressed in the panties and cami the vampire had told me off about the previous night, I left the bedroom and went into the kitchen. The place was like a stage home, with no sign that anyone had ever even used the kitchen to cook in–the counter, oven, and refrigerator immaculate and in pristine condition.

  Of course, they’ve never been used. It’s not like a vampire was suddenly going to decide to whisk up some pancakes.

  The thought of pancakes made my stomach gurgle, and I went to the refrigerator. I swung open the door and stared at the interior.

  Empty.


  Completely empty.

  “Shit.”

  Moving more quickly, urgency pressing upon me, I threw open the cupboard doors, hoping to find something to eat. I’d have been happy with anything at that point—a slice of dry bread, some crackers, a tin of fruit in syrup—but there was literally not a single thing to eat.

  “You have got to be kidding me!”

  I stormed back to the bedroom and went straight to the dresser. As Roman had told me the previous night, the drawers were all filled with comfortable clothes—expensive jeans and cashmere sweaters, all in my size. In the bottom of the closet were several pairs of shoes, boots, and sneakers.

  I pulled on a pair of slim jeans, a V-neck t-shirt, and the boots, and then left the room to go to the elevator. I hit the button to call the car several times, but nothing happened, and then I noticed the fingerprint keypad needed to call it. I pressed my thumb against the pad, trying to activate the elevator, even though I knew it was futile. Unsurprisingly, the control pad flashed red.

  “Oh, for God’s sake!”

  I spun around and scanned the apartment to give me some idea of what to do next.

  I stared at a telephone which sat on a side table beside the couch, but who would I call? I didn’t know a single phone number, and had never even used a telephone before. I knew there were restaurants that delivered food, but I didn’t know what any were called, never mind their phone numbers. Plus, I had no money to pay them, and didn’t even know my current address. I was starving and stuck in an apartment with no food. At least I could get water from the tap.

  Back in the kitchen, I placed my mouth beneath the faucet and gulped some cold water down. It helped to quell my hunger a little, before the pangs returned with force. Would I be able to wake the vampire and at least get him to order me something in? He was supposed to be looking after me, that was part of the contract, and right now he was failing on every single piece of what it was supposed to mean to own me.

  There were only four doors which led off of the living space. I checked the closest one, to find an empty bedroom, and then the next was a bathroom. That only left one other door, which wasn’t my own, so I knew it must be Roman’s bedroom. I approached to stand in front of it. Was he asleep in there? I couldn’t get any sense of him being behind the wood, but he was undead, so it wasn’t as though I was ever going to hear him snoring.

  Cautiously, I turned the handle and pushed it open. It was pitch black in the room, the windows completely covered with blinds. A little of the light filtered in through the open doorway, and slowly my eyes adjusted.

  Roman lay on the bed, on top of the covers. He was on his back, his hands rested on his naked chest. The only clothing he wore was a pair of loose workout pants. I tried not to pay too much attention to the lines of his abs and the squared muscle of his pectorals on which his hands rested. His dark hair was a contrast to the pale skin, which somehow appeared even paler in the dark. He looked like a mannequin or a statue lying there, and a shiver tingled down my spine.

  Even so, my hunger was greater than my fear of him.

  I crossed the room to come to stand beside his bed. Would he sense me there and wake? But there was no change from him, so I reached out and shoved his shoulder.

  “Hey,” I hissed. “You need to wake up.”

  I got no response. His eyelids didn’t as much as flutter.

  I shoved him, harder this time, and spoke louder. “There’s no food in this place. I’m starving. You need to wake up!”

  Still nothing. He didn’t even flinch.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I was exasperated, but what else could I do? I didn’t want to disturb him so badly that he woke up thinking he was being attacked and I ended up with my throat ripped out.

  Giving up, I left the bedroom and shut the door behind me again.

  With nothing else to do, I returned to my room and lay back on my bed. I dozed and waited for the hours to pass until the sunset arrived and Roman woke again.

  When he did, I was ready for him.

  I stood outside of his bedroom door, my arms folded over my chest, glaring at him as he emerged from the bedroom. I knew I was breaking my training by challenging him, but I was so hungry and angry by this point, I honestly didn’t care.

  “So nice of you to finally get out of bed.”

  He jerked back in surprise, his smooth brow drawing down in a frown. “I always wake at sunset, Dakota. I’m a vampire. That’s what we do.”

  “I know that! What I meant is that you could have thought of me while you were busy sleeping.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

  “No? Well, you were obviously so focused on making sure your own meal was here that you forgot to consider mine.”

  His dark eyes narrowed slightly, and then realization must have dawned. “Ah, I forgot to get in any human food.”

  “Got it in one. I’ve been here starving all day, unable to leave, while you’ve been literally sleeping like the dead.”

  He frowned again. “You tried to wake me?”

  “You bet, and it was like trying to wake a rock.”

  “I apologize.” His eyes skimmed up and down my body. “As you’re suitably dressed, how about I take you out for breakfast?”

  “It’s dinner now, but you can buy me all three meals as I’ve been forced to skip every one of them.”

  He glanced down and appeared to be suppressing a smile. “As you wish.”

  “And by the way,” I continued, and then lifted a hand to motion to his naked top half. “You’re the one who needs to be thinking about who is suitably dressed.”

  He glanced down at his naked torso and laughed, a deep and throaty sound which sent shivers through me for all the wrong reasons. “Of course.”

  Roman disappeared back inside the bedroom to get dressed, while I stood awkwardly in the apartment. Was I really going to go out looking like this—in jeans and a t-shirt, my hair pulled into a ponytail and my face free from makeup? I’d been taught I should always be perfectly presentable, and right now I was far from perfect.

  In less than a minute, Roman reappeared, wearing another dark shirt and slacks. I wondered if he had any variation on his wardrobe.

  “Ready?” he asked, his head tilted to one side.

  “I can’t go out like this.”

  “Of course you can. You look beautiful.”

  I lifted my eyebrows in disbelief.

  “Natural,” he said. “Yesterday you looked like a whore.”

  Anger rose up inside me. “Gee, thanks. You really know how to compliment a girl.”

  “I tend to say what I think.”

  “I’ve noticed,” I snapped back.

  He exhaled a sigh. “Do you want to go and get something to eat or not?”

  I rolled my eyes, but I was too hungry to either worry about my attire, or argue with him any further. “Fine.” I was pretty sure none of this behavior had been in my training, but Roman Kramar seemed to bring out the worst in me.

  He called the elevator, as I had tried to do hours earlier, and we stepped inside and traveled down. Leaving the apartment building, I felt self-conscious in my casual clothes, with Roman walking beside me, his hand lightly touching the small of my back as he guided me. He took me to a quiet restaurant across the street and we found a table near the back. Once more, I was thrown. I’d been expecting lavish parties and glamorous clothes, not jeans and a low key restaurant. Had anyone else noticed the collar at my throat? I guessed in the red-gold, it looked more like a very expensive piece of jewelry than anything else, but it seriously didn’t go with the rest of my outfit.

  But I was too hungry to worry about that now.

  I ordered three dishes—waffles, a sandwich, and a steak and fries.

  He watched me in amusement.

  “I missed three meals,” I said, “so I plan on eating them now.” My hunger was so bad, it felt like a hollow, sick feeling in the base of my throat. The scents from the restaurant w
eren’t helping matters, and I eyed other people’s meals as they were delivered to their tables.

  Roman only ordered a glass of red wine, which he sat, sipping slowly. He didn’t offer any to me. I was underage. The irony that I could be fed upon and screwed like a fully grown woman, but yet wasn’t able to have a glass of wine, wasn’t lost on me. I had tasted wine plenty of times—we were trained on the differences between the grapes in order for us to serve them with flourish during parties, but here in a restaurant was a different matter.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he said, eventually.

  I blinked in surprise. “Me? Why do you want to know about me?”

  His dark, intense eyes didn’t waver from my face. “It’s called conversation, Dakota. Aren’t you supposed to be trained in the art?”

  “Well, yes, but to talk about music or books, not myself.”

  “I am your owner now, so I get to decide what we converse about. I want to know about you.”

  I stuttered, my cheeks flaming. “There really isn’t anything to tell. I’ve been in the training center and then I came here. That’s it.”

  I noticed he was staring at the color in my face, and I placed my palms to my cheeks, hoping to cool my skin with my hands.

  His hand shot out, cold fingers wrapping around my wrist and yanking my hand away. “Don’t cover your face. I want to be able to see your skin. You’re very beautiful when the blood rushes to the surface like that.”

  My blush deepened, but I allowed him to pull my hands down, not that I could have stopped him if I’d wanted.

  “So,” he said, more gently, releasing his hold on me, “you were telling me about yourself. What about your life before you went to the training center?”

  I shook my head, confused. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Where are you from, originally? Do you have any siblings? What do your parents do?”

  I continued to shake my head. “I’m… I’m not sure you understand. I was taken when I was small—a preschooler, at most. I don’t know the answer to any of those questions.”