Kerrelyn Sparks: Forbidden Nights with a Vampire

Roman nodded. "A logical decision."

"But the bitch attacked me!" Max bellowed.

"Only after you verbally assaulted me!" Vanda shouted.

"What did you attack him with?" Roman asked.

"I wasn't going anywhere near him as long as he had that damned snake, so I grabbed one of my shoes and threw it at him." Vanda shrugged. "I guess I threw it kinda hard cause the stiletto heel sorta stuck in his chest."

"She nearly killed me!" Max hollered.

"And you nearly killed a customer with your snake," Roman reminded him. "Did your injury heal itself during your death-sleep?"

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't make it okay for her to attack me."

Roman drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. "I am not going to find fault with a woman defending herself against a verbally abusive male."

"Yes!" Vanda punched the air.

"I'm not finished." Roman gave her a stern look. "Your method of defense was inappropriate. I'm sure you have some kind of security who could have removed Mr. Mega Member from the premises."

Vanda shrugged. She did have a huge bouncer.

"This is the third time since the opening of your club that you have been summoned here because of inappropriate and violent behavior," Roman continued. "In short, Ms. Barkowski, you have a problem with anger."

"Yeah!" Max yelled. "She's a crazy bitch!"

"Enough," Roman warned the ex-dancer. "I am dismissing the charges under the condition that Ms. Barkowski take a class in anger management."

Vanda grimaced. Not again.

"This is bullshit," Max declared. "That bitch owes me! I demand to be compensated for the trauma she caused me."

"I'll give you some compensation." Vanda shook a fist at him. "Let's meet in the parking lot—"

"Vanda, enough!" Roman glowered at her.

She glared back.

"You are exhibiting a serious lack of control," he stated quietly. "Obviously, one class of anger management wasn't enough for you."

"Yeah, she flunked anger management!" Max snickered. "You just wait, bitch. I'll give you something to be angry about."

"You are now officially under a restraining order," Roman told the ex-dancer. "You will stay away from Ms. Barkowski, or you will be fined five thousand dollars."

"What?" Max looked aghast. "What did I do?"

"Laszlo, call security to have Mr. Mega Member removed," Roman ordered.

"Yes, sir." Laszlo punched a button on his desk.

"All right, all right, I'm leaving." Max strode from the room.

"The third suit is dismissed," Roman announced, "and Ms. Barkowski has agreed to attend a second round of anger management classes."

Vanda gritted her teeth as amused whispering sounded around the room. "I don't recall agreeing to anything."

"You will attend." Roman regarded her sternly. "Father Andrew has graciously offered to counsel you again."

She groaned inwardly. The mortal priest was a kindly old man, but he didn't have a clue about all she'd been through in her long life. And she really didn't want to tell him. Or anyone.

Father Andrew smiled at her. "I look forward to getting to know you better, my child."

Vanda crossed her arms. "Whatever."

"I will need a volunteer to be her sponsor," Father Andrew continued.

The murmuring in the room came to an abrupt halt. Absolute silence.

Great. With her superior senses, Vanda could hear the crickets chirping outside Romatech. She felt heat rising up her neck. No one wanted anything to do with her. "I don't need a sponsor."

"I'm convinced that you do," Father Andrew insisted.

More silence.

Vanda turned to Gregori. "Come on," she hissed.

"I sponsored you last time," Gregori whispered. "Obviously, I wasn't very good at it."

"Laszlo?" Vanda asked.

The short secretary jumped in his seat, and another button popped off his lab coat.

Anger sizzled in Vanda as she faced Roman. "You won't find anyone here to sponsor me. They're a bunch of cowards." She adjusted the whip around her waist. "And they're right! They should fear me. If any of them dares to reprimand me, I'll rip their heads off."

A collective gasp echoed across the room.

Roman regarded her sadly. "I don't believe you're entering into this exercise with the correct attitude."

She lifted her chin. "I've got plenty of attitude."

Roman sighed. "Is there no one here—"

"I'll do it," Shanna offered.

Vanda flinched. Roman's wife? She couldn't confess her horrid sins to sweet little do-gooder Shanna Draganesti.

Roman turned to talk quietly with his wife. Vanda's superior hearing picked up most of it. Shanna had a two-year-old son and a nine-week-old daughter to take care of. Watching Vanda would be too much of an added burden.

Vanda's anger spiked. She didn't need a damned babysitter. And she sure didn't want Shanna's pity. "Forget it! You won't find anyone here to sponsor me. None of the men here have the balls to take me on."

"I'll do it," a deep voice rumbled in the back of the room.

Vanda gasped. She recognized that voice instantly, but still, she had to turn to make sure it was really him. Oh, damn, he looked better than ever. He'd always been tall, but his shoulders looked broader than she remembered. His thick brown hair gleamed with red and gold highlights. And his eyes…his eyes had always taken her breath away. A pale icy blue that somehow managed to glitter with heat.

"I'll sponsor her." Phil marched down the center aisle.

God, no. She couldn't bare her soul to Phil . She'd confided a lot in Gregori when he'd sponsored her, but he was like a little brother. Phil could never be like a brother. "No! Ask Ian. Ian will do it."

Roman frowned. "Ian and his wife are still on their honeymoon."

Oh, right. Ian had told her they'd be gone for three whole months. So it would be the middle of August before he and Toni returned. "Then ask Pamela or Cora Lee."

Roman gave her a dubious look. "I can't imagine either of them being able to manage you."

Dammit, she'd had enough of this humiliation. "No one can manage me! I don't need a damned sponsor."

Roman ignored her and turned to Phil. "Thank you for volunteering."

"I'm not accepting him!" Vanda yelled.

Phil gave her a challenging look. "Do you prefer one of the other volunteers?"

She scowled at him. "I'll make you miserable."

He arched a brow. "What else is new?"

She blinked. She'd made him miserable? How? She'd always been nice to him. She noted the amused looks among the crowd. Dammit. They were enjoying this.

Roman cleared his throat. "Phil, do you understand the responsibilities that come with sponsorship?"

"Yes," he replied. "I can do it."

"Very well." Roman gave him a grateful smile. "The job is yours. Thank you. Laszlo, make a note of it."

"Yes, sir." Laszlo scratched away on his parchment.

"Wait a minute!" Vanda marched toward Phil. "You can't do this. I never agreed to it."

"Come." He jerked his head toward the door, then strode down the aisle and out of the room.

Vanda's mouth fell open. What the hell was he doing, giving her orders? Though she had to admit his backside looked really good. She glanced around and noticed the other Vamps watching her curiously. Well, maybe Phil was right, and they shouldn't discuss this fiasco in front of an audience.

She stalked out the door and spotted him across the hall, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. He'd always had rather big biceps for a mortal. "Look. This is a mistake. You're a mortal. You can't handle a Vamp."

"I made you leave the room, didn't I?"

Her anger flared. "Only because I didn't want to embarrass you in front of everyone while I kick your ass!"

His mouth tilted up. "Try it."

She stepped closer to him. "I've eaten mortals like you for breakfast."