The Ortega Project Read online

  Roman sucked in a ragged breath. The crotch of his pants tightened, making it impossible to ignore his body’s reaction at the sight of her. He bit down on a toothpick and leaned back in the booth to enjoy the Grace Show. But something seemed amiss. The unhappiness in her eyes filled him with empathy.

  His heart went back to a dark place in his own life. He recalled the wounded expression on his late wife’s face. Remembering his own pain, a lump formed in his throat. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Prayers to forget, to erase, the sound of her sobbing from his memory, went unanswered. But why would God answer his petitions? He was damned anyway. His wife never stopped loving him until the day she’d died of a broken heart. But he had no choice but to walk away and spare her the horror of knowing her husband had been turned into a monster. Since then, he’d never loved another woman. Perhaps he was incapable of love.

  While treating himself to another look at the beautiful bartender’s flawless complexion and high cheekbones, she presented a wide grin. Dimples. Interesting. He cocked his head and rubbed his chin while he admired how she worked the crowd. Grinning and patting the arms of male customers seated at the bar. All the while, flashing that dimpled smile. Damn, she was good. And stunning. Tall. Long, blonde hair. Pale blue eyes. Earlier when she’d bumped into him, he knew firsthand how soft her ample breasts were. And she smelled of sweet jasmine. A warm smile lit up Grace’s gorgeous face. One thing was certain: everyone seemed to genuinely like her.

  Roman closed his eyes, trying to recall the feel of her silky hair when it grazed his cheek. Her body slamming into his. If, by some miracle, she happened to be available, he’d better act fast. He spotted an empty stool at the bar.

  “Be right back,” he said to Alex, who wasn’t paying attention to him anyway because he kept grinning at the Barbie doll on his left. Roman hurried to the bar before someone beat him to the vacant stool. Time to turn on his Latin charm.

  * * *

  Grace

  * * *

  Grace set a mixed drink in front of a man with a goatee. She pocketed his generous tip and removed an empty wineglass from the bar. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of someone claiming the vacant stool.

  She filled drink orders and bantered with a few regular customers. Some men asked her out, most asked about her vacation, everyone said they missed her.

  It was common knowledge she was engaged. What would happen if the club’s regulars found out her fiancé had removed himself from the picture and her future? Permanently.

  “What’s a fellow have to do around here to get your attention?” a male seated at the bar said.

  Without seeing the speaker, she knew who owned that deep, soft voice. Fiery heat started at her toes and worked its way through her body, settling in her cheeks. She drew in sharp little breaths and let them out slowly, trying to settle down her out-of-control heartbeat.

  “I’d like to apologize for almost running you down in the parking lot and bumping into you when I rushed inside. I was running late and…. I…uh….” She snapped her jaws shut. Adding to her humiliations, her brilliant explanation didn’t quite make it past her lips. She swallowed hard. Her face flushed.

  Conversing with men never rattled her before. So why now, after all these years, did she behave like a teenager? Come on, Grace, get a grip. This is ridiculous!

  “I’d like to order a drink,” he said nonchalantly, seemingly oblivious to his effect on her.

  Her voice returned. “I’ll get someone to take your order. As much as I’d like to wait on you, I can’t. You see, you’re not sitting in my station.”

  He rested his chin on the knuckles of his right hand and studied her through half-closed eyes. “But I want you to wait on me.”

  Her throat felt as if she’d swallowed a mouthful of sand. Afraid he’d become insistent and make a scene, she asked for his order.

  “I like Bloody Marys.”

  “Coming right up.” She furrowed her brow, contemplating his unusual choice. Why didn’t he order a beer or something simple like everyone else? And wasn’t a Bloody Mary a morning drink? While filling his order, she sensed his gaze boring holes into the back of her head. She returned to the bar, set the drink in front of him, and hurried away.

  “Hey Grace, can you come over here for a minute?”

  She turned. “Is something wrong with your Bloody Mary?”

  “It’s perfect. Now I’d like to buy you a drink.”

  “No can do. Not when I’m working. Thanks for the offer, though.” She turned on her heels. Before making a clean get-away, he called her name again and motioned for her to come closer. She did.

  “How about after work?” He stirred his Bloody Mary with the celery stick and lifted it from the glass. After licking the liquid from the end of the celery, he dropped it back into the drink.

  The ritual made her heart flutter. “It’s not a good idea to have a drink with someone I don’t know. And I don’t know you.”

  “In that case, my name’s Roman and I believe you’re Grace. So if you consider that an introduction, as I do, then I’d like to think that we know each other.” He leaned forward and grinned, seeming to enjoy the exchange.

  “That’s not what I meant.” She swallowed hard. “Meeting someone is a lot different than knowing them,” she added emphatically. Did he realize how flustered he made her?

  “I’ll take my chances.” He sipped his drink and let his tongue glide along his lower lip.

  Afraid of blurting out a dumb response, she tried walking away, but couldn’t budge. Had her feet taken root?

  He rested his elbows on the bar and a slight smile tugged at his lips. “How about you, Grace? Do you take chances?”

  She tried, but failed to come up with a snappy comeback. Not a single one. Returning his smile, she snatched his money from the bar, and headed for the cash register.

  Deanna followed close behind. “So what’s going on with you and Roman?”

  “He wants to buy me a drink after work.”

  A broad grin lit up Deanna’s face. “You’re going to do it, right?”

  “I don’t trust him. Can’t you tell he’s a player?” She narrowed her eyes and fingered the twenty-dollar bill he’d left for his drink.

  “Everyone’s a player in a place like this. If it would make you feel more comfortable, why not have that drink right here, in the club?” Deanna pointed to the floor. “That way we can all keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t try anything funny.”

  Grace contemplated the offer. If she had a drink with Roman in the club, word would spread, and the regulars might figure out she was single again. Socializing with a customer would open the door for others who’d hounded her for a date, the same men she’d refused ever since she started working at the club. Before her breakup, harmless flirting wasn’t a problem. On the contrary. It was encouraged. It generated great tips. But now? Being in an exclusive relationship for so long, the mere thought of dating caused her to break out in a cold sweat. She couldn’t even remember what it was like to date.

  “Come on, Grace. You’re single now. You need to start going out again.”

  “Jake and I were together for a long time.” She shook her head. “It’s too soon.” Even though Roman interested her, anxiety slammed into her like a nightmare, causing her stomach to flip. She rolled the twenty-dollar bill into a tight tube.

  “No, it’s not. It’s like riding a bike. You fall off. You get right back on. You ride it.”

  “You’re suggesting I ride him?” Interesting idea. Her face flushed.

  The sexual innuendo failed to draw a comment from Deanna. “You’ve got to start somewhere.”

  “I don’t know. He makes me kind of nervous.” Nervous was an understatement. How about terrified? Her breath came in tiny gasps. Her defenses started to falter, giving way to curiosity. Curiosity, infused with a small dose of want.

  She opened the register, unrolled the twenty, and jammed it into the till. She pulle
d out a five and five ones, and slammed the drawer shut.

  “Would you feel better if I stuck around until he leaves to make sure everything’s cool?”

  Grace swallowed hard and gave Roman’s invitation more consideration. The vibe he gave intrigued her, drew her in. “Okay, you win. I’ll have a drink with him.” She raised her index finger. “But only one.”

  “That’s more like it.” Deanna smiled. “You need to get back into the swing of things, girlfriend, and the sooner, the better.”

  “Promise you’ll bail me out if I need help?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She returned to give Roman his change and her answer.

  “So Grace, did your friend convince you that I’m not a serial killer?” He stirred his drink.

  Showing him a weak half-smile, she set his change in front of him. “Something like that.”

  “I’d like to have a drink with you, Grace. Nothing more. Scout’s honor.” He raised his right hand and held up three fingers.

  She couldn’t explain why, but something irresistible radiated from him, and it excited her to the core. Tonight might turn out okay after all.

  * * *

  Roman

  * * *

  He would do this! Tonight Roman would break ranks with his men and stay behind to meet Grace for a drink. Always a stickler for following rules, he’d probably catch flak from the guys for breaking the very rule he strictly enforced.

  Lately, he’d grown tired of partying with nameless women and longed to find someone special. Tonight a powerful force tugged at his heart, drawing him to Grace. A pull so strong, he could no longer resist, even if he wanted to. Why did he feel this strong attraction?

  The band finished their encore. Soon clinking drink glasses and spirited conversations replaced live music. A smattering of attractive women positioned themselves near the stage and watched the musicians pack up instruments and sound equipment. Hoping to get lucky? Hell, tonight Roman hoped he’d get lucky. The customer population started to thin out and he wove his way through a maze of tables back to his booth.

  Hovering around the booth, his men scooped up keys and loose change from the tabletop. The same two women who shared their booth before, waited near the door.

  “Listen up,” Roman said, joining his group.

  Heads turned in his direction, and the men clustered around him.

  “Go on ahead without me. I’m going to hang around for a while.”

  Gabriel’s brows furrowed. “What happened to your rule that we always leave together?” Since beginning the feeding program at the lab, Roman noticed Gabriel starting to question his authority and challenge him at every opportunity. Tonight was no exception. Tonight he’d given Gabriel ammunition. Damn.

  “It has something to do with that blonde behind the bar, doesn’t it?” Seth said.

  “Are you shittin’ me?” Gabriel lowered his voice. “You, of all people, know what they told us. And right now, it might not be a good idea to piss them off.”

  “I’ll deal with them if and when the time comes.” Roman could handle the scientists. For the program to be successful, the vampires and scientists needed each other. The institute’s reputation was at stake, but more importantly to him, so were the lives of his men.

  Alex jumped into the discussion. “Hold on a minute, Roman. You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “I do. But sometimes things come up.”

  “Yeah, like your dick,” Alex whispered.

  Roman didn’t respond. Alex knew him all too well.

  “But you don’t like blondes,” Seth noted.

  “I like blue eyes,” Roman countered. And Grace’s were the palest blue he’d ever seen. He wanted to find out how it felt to get lost in them. In her. Fantasizing about the possibilities sent arrows of lust straight to his groin.

  “Better be careful,” Alex warned.

  “What harm can a couple of drinks do?”

  The men huddled closer and lowered their voices.

  Alex glanced at Grace. “Don’t you remember our pledge to stick together until we finish the program? Safety in numbers and all that shit.”

  Roman wanted a chance to get to know her. And if he got really lucky, maybe more. He couldn’t explain the strong pull on his soul to connect with her. He only knew that he wanted her. He jerked his chin in her direction. “Check her out.”

  “No arguments that she’s hot, but never forget who and what you are.” Alex shook his head. “I don’t like this, Roman. I thought you had more sense.”

  Roman raked his fingers through his hair. “Sorry fellows. But tonight I’m flying solo.” He peeked over his shoulder at Grace, who leaned over the bar, counting her tips. His gaze drifted to her large breasts straining to break out of her tight vest, causing him to become aroused.

  Alex slapped him on the back. “If I can’t talk you out of hooking up, what excuse should I give for you not being with us when we get back to the lab? You know how paranoid they are.”

  “You’ll think of something.” He kept his focus on Grace. “Catch you later,” he said, heading in the direction of the bar.

  * * *

  Gabriel

  * * *

  Gabriel grabbed Roman’s arm, stopping him from walking away. But as far as he was concerned, the conversation was far from over.

  Roman’s eyes grew wide. He looked down at Gabe’s hand on his arm, and, without a word, he lifted his stare to meet Gabriel’s.

  Releasing his hold, Gabriel raised his hands in mock surrender.

  “What’s on your mind?” Roman asked.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but this isn’t like you. Whatever happened to watching each other’s back?”

  “I’m not going to do anything stupid so don’t worry about it.” Roman glanced at the pretty bartender filling a tray with empty drink glasses. “I can’t explain it, Gabe, but something’s telling me to find out more about her and I’m listening.”

  Gabriel glanced in Grace’s direction, wishing he’d seen her first. Damn, she was hot. “Have you forgotten about Father Darius? If he finds you alone, you’re screwed.”

  “We haven’t seen him since we got here, have we? Maybe he won’t show up.”

  “Maybe not. Or maybe he’s already here, but hasn’t shown his face,” Gabriel answered, surprised by Roman’s lack of concern. He was their leader, but he certainly wasn’t acting like the one in charge. Drawing himself to his full height, Gabriel got to the crux of his reason for speaking with Roman. “If something happened…and you weren’t around…”

  “Like always, you’d take the lead. You know that. So does the team.” Roman’s brow drew together. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason.” Gabriel needed verification that he was still Roman’s backup. Lately, it seemed Roman spent most of his time with Alex and he wondered if his cousin had been elevated to next in command, bypassing him.

  Women’s laughter drifted toward them, bringing a halt to their conversation. The same women who had shared their booth, plus a couple leggy brunettes, now lingered near the front door.

  Roman jerked his chin in their direction. “The natives are getting restless. You better take care of them.”

  The ladies grinned and wiggled their fingers at them. ”Looks like they brought a friend for you,” Gabriel said, with a smile.

  Roman snorted. “Not going to happen. I’ve made other plans. Think you can handle two ladies tonight, Gabe?”

  “Watch me.”

  Their conversation over, they joined the others at the door.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Alex claimed the tall blonde. He pulled her close and whispered in her ear, causing her to giggle.

  “Oh, you’re such a nasty boy.”

  “So I’ve been told.” With one hand on the small of her back, Alex pushed open the door with his other hand, and led her outside.

  Seth, his arm around the redhead’s waist, followed close behind.

  Roman clapped Gabri
el on the back. “Have fun.”

  “I intend to.” He grinned and positioned himself between the brunettes. Draping his arms around their necks, he kissed each on the cheek, and sauntered toward the exit.

  2

  Roman

  Roman’s plan to share a drink and a little alone time with Grace in the same out-of-the-way booth wasn’t going to happen. Empty glasses, beer mugs, swizzle sticks, and wadded up napkins littered the table.

  Swearing under his breath, he scanned the area and decided the table directly in front of the booth would do just fine. He pulled out a chair, and hung his jacket over the back, staking his claim.

  As he headed to the bar to order their drinks, Grace looked up from wiping down the bar and offered him a genuine, soul-warming smile. His breath caught.

  “A Bloody Mary for me and whatever you want for yourself.”

  “Jerry?” She glanced at the owner, who was stocking the back bar with full bottles of vodka.

  He checked his watch. “Go ahead, Grace, but you’d better make it quick. We’re officially closing in a few minutes.”

  Roman got the message. No Bloody Mary. “Then keep it simple. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

  “Is Heineken okay?”

  “Perfect.” He pulled a twenty from his wallet and set it on the bar. “Keep the change.”

  He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m at the table in front of the booth. But if you’d prefer somewhere else—maybe at the bar—let me know and I’ll get my jacket.”

  “No. No. The table’s fine. I’ll bring our drinks right over.” She glanced at Jerry. “And I’d better get them right now because I don’t want to be responsible for getting the place shut down.”