She had more than enough to worry about lately.

But she knew that would be impossible. She had seen that portrait and nothing could alter that fact.

For her own peace of mind she had to discover the truth.

Whatever that truth might be.

Chapter 7

From the shadows of the upper gallery Gideon watched as the slender golden-haired woman slipped through the dark foyer and paused to listen for sound that her entrance had been noticed.

He had felt her presence, of course, long before she had even reached the steps of his house. With each passing day he realized that he was more and more aware of the bonds that were being woven between the two of them. Even when she was not near he could sense her in a distant corner of his mind. Almost as if she had been branded upon his soul.

His slender fingers absently toyed with the folds of his cravat.

What had brought her to his home at such a late hour?

Certainly not merely to seek his company, he wryly conceded as she hesitantly edged toward the fine mahogany staircase. She appeared far more like a thief intent on filching his silver than a woman bent upon seduction.

A pity, he acknowledged as his heightened senses caught a whiff of her sweet perfume. His passions ran hotter in the velvet darkness. They swirled through him, searing away the cool logic and leaving him raw with need.

She was here in his grasp. He had only to sweep her in his arms to have her in his chamber. Once there he did not doubt he could soon have her lingering distrust forgotten.

Then he would sate himself in her soft temptation. She would open to him with eager pleasure. And they would join in passions as ancient as time.

Shockingly Gideon realized that his fangs had lengthened even as his body stirred. He wished to believe it was nothing more than the potent bloodlust that lay within every vampire, but he could not make the explanation ring true. He did not desire to feast upon Simone’s blood and watch her die in his arms. The mere thought was abhorrent to him. But if he were to merely taste of her blood and to blend it with his own, they would be eternally linked together. Two souls intertwined ...

He gave a sharp shake of his head.

It was not entirely unheard of for a vampire to link with a human. It was rare, however. Not only because a human’s life span passed within the blink of an eye, but the sheer intimacy of the links had the possibility of overwhelming a mere mortal.

Possible or not, he had no intention of sharing the Immortal Kiss with Simone.

His heart and his soul were his own.

He intended to keep it that way.

Deliberately battling the need that threatened to rage out of control, Gideon forced himself to consider the intruder with cool reason.

Something must have prompted this midnight visit. Something more than mere curiosity. She was far too aware of the heavy price she would pay if it were known she were visiting a gentleman’s house at this hour to take such a risk without a pressing reason.

In patient silence he waited in the shadows as she slowly climbed the stairs. A faint frown marred her brow, as if she could sense him, but common sense was assuring her that she must be mistaken. He smiled wryly as he realized that she must find the tugs of awareness even more disturbing than he. He suspected that the Medallion had heightened her senses on more than one level.

He waited until she was fully upon the landing before he slid from the shadows as silent as a ghost.

Not surprisingly she nearly tumbled back down the staircase before she caught the railing and glared at him with open indignation.

“Gideon, you nearly frightened me to death,” she accused in sharp tones.

His lips twitched with amusement at her blustering. Even in the darkness he could detect the warm color that stained her cheeks.

“Forgive me, my dear.”

She nervously adjusted the folds of her black gown. “Really, it is too bad of you to sneak up on people in such a fashion.”

He arched his brows at her audacity. “I hardly believe you are in the position at the moment to give me lessons in manners, do you, Simone?”

“Well.” She licked her lips, obviously searching her mind for some means of explaining her bold behavior. “There is no need to skulk about in the shadows.”

“I thought my home was being invaded by a thief. Would you have me offer myself to a desperate thug?”

Again she twitched her skirts, covertly glancing toward the stairs before reluctantly accepting that she could not possibly flee before she would be caught.

With a smothered sigh she turned to meet his glittering gaze.

“I thought that you were attending the Claredon ball.”

He shrugged, shifting so that he was towering over her slender form. “Without you in attendance it was swiftly too tedious to endure. I considered calling upon you, but I decided it was far too advanced in the evening.”

She rubbed her hands over her arms, as if able to sense the prickles of tension that filled the air.

“You are correct, it is very late. I should be returning home.”

“Oh no, my love.” Moving far too swiftly to allow her to evade him, Gideon grasped her shoulders in a firm grip. “You are going nowhere until I discover why you are sneaking through my home like a thief.”

There was a brief, futile struggle until she stilled and regarded him with narrowed eyes.

“I do not have to explain anything to you.”

He heaved a sigh. He did not recall mortal women being so contrary. Or perhaps it was simply this particular one.

“Simone, I am quite as stubborn as you. We can remain here all evening for all I care, although I do not believe you will wish to be seen by the servants. Think of the gossip.”

Her brows furrowed in frustration at his calm refusal to obey her commands.

“Release me.”

“No.”

She sucked in a breath between her clenched teeth. “You are the most aggravating of men.”

“And you are wasting time. Tell me why you are here.”

“I ...” Whatever lie she was about to utter died as she encountered the dangerous glitter in his dark eyes. He did not bother to hide the fact he was in no humor for her elusive games. “I wanted to discover more of you.”

“Why?”

“Because you refused to tell me of yourself.” Her hands tightened on her skirt. “And I hoped I might learn why both you and Mr. Soltern have taken such an interest in my amulet.”

He ignored the feel of satin skin beneath his hands. This was no time to be distracted by the womanly heat and scent that filled the air.

“I do not believe you,” he retorted in stern tones.

She blinked with an attempt at innocence. “What?”

“You have been curious about me for weeks. It would take something a great deal more pressing to prompt you into taking such a risk.”

“I ...”

“The truth, Simone.”

There was a silent struggle before she allowed the wariness she had been attempting to hide to surface. Gideon stiffened as he realized that there was genuine fear shimmering deep in her eyes.

“Tonight at Lady Falstone’s I discovered a portrait of you.”

“A portrait?” Gideon gave a shake of his head. “Impossible. I have hardly been in London long enough to inspire the artists and I certainly have not commissioned a painting.”

“It was painted in 1520 at Penwhick Castle.”

Penwhick Castle.

Gideon carefully kept his expression bland. It had been nearly three hundred years since he had last viewed the estate he had owned in Scotland. Although remote, drafty and decidedly uncomfortable during the long winter, it had suited him when he wished his privacy. Few vampires, and even fewer mortals wished to endure the stark simplicity of his home.

One guest, however, had prolonged his visit for several weeks to complete a portrait that Gideon had been unaware of until the painter had left the castle. He had, of course, considered following the man and retrieving the picture. But, at the time he had been occupied with dabbling in royal politics and had not desired to draw unwanted attention to himself.

Now he cursed himself for his lack of foresight.

It was always the smallest details that managed to create the most trouble.

“A relative, no doubt,” he murmured in silky tones.

“That is what Mary assumed, but I do not accept the explanation.”

She wouldn’t, of course, he acknowledged wryly.

“No?”

She gave a slow shake of her head. “The man in the portrait is not similar to you, he is precisely like you. The same features, the same hair, even the same smile.”

“I must see this picture,” he retorted with a nonchalant shrug.

“It is you.”

“Absurd,” he scoffed. “I may be several years older than you, my sweet, but do I appear that old?”

Her lips thinned at his refusal to take her accusation seriously. Clearly she was not about to be easily convinced that she had been mistaken.

“Then tell me where you were born. Who are your parents?”

“Simone.” He deliberately gentled his tone, his expression one of concern. “I believe you should lie down and rest. Clearly you are not thinking straight.”