Vulpes is not a loveable man.
He is charming, to be sure. Handsome. Desirable, even. But not good. Not loveable. He knows this, and he has never cared before.
He wants to be loved by her.
She is his antithesis. His negative. She is everything he isn't. Beautiful. A good person. Saintly.
Loveable.
The first time he meets her is in Nipton. She is covered in Mojave dust, and her shoulders sag from exhaustion. She surveys the scene around her with sorrowful eyes. He proudly proclaims the lottery, and all he has done for the Legion. She isn't impressed.
The second time is on the Strip, and he watches her for far longer than he should. She leaves through the elevator to the Presidential Suite, and Vulpes chuckles softly to himself. Still trying to be diplomatic, simply because it worked for her once in Boulder City. He sees the four thugs take the elevator after her, but he doesn't worry. If they kill her, then she isn't worth his time. A few minutes later, Benny runs past him pale as a corpse. She follows behind a few minutes after that, and Vulpes grabs her arm.
"I know where he's going, my dear," he murmurs in her ear. She turns to look at him.
"It's you," she says warily.
"It's me."
The third time is at Caesar's Fort, and she stands proudly among the Legion. She is but a mere woman who doesn't know her place. But it thrills Vulpes to see her so unafraid. She challenges Caesar with a wit that would have delighted the aging ruler had it come from a man. She barely looks at him, and oddly, he feels the loss of her gaze.