“An encroacher?” A chiseled ebony brow slowly lifted. “You do not believe anyone would possess the audacity to boldly enter society without the proper bloodlines ?”

A near hysterical giggle rose to her throat before she sternly subdued it. What was the matter with her? She would give all away if she were not careful.

“Yes, I do.”

The dark eyes seemed to narrow. “An interesting notion.”

Realizing she was treading dangerous waters, Simone prepared to take a more direct approach. Clearly the gentleman could not be shamed by more subtle means.

“I believe, sir, you are being deliberately obtuse,” she charged in low tones.

The thick brow inched higher. “Deliberately? Could it not be that I am merely unintentionally obtuse? After all, the proper bloodlines have never ensured intelligence.”

Her teeth gritted. “How did you enter my home?”

“I assure you I did not materialize from thin air.” He appeared amused by her rising irritation. “I walked through the front door as any proper guest would do.”

“Impossible,” Simone retorted, thinking of the large, barrel-chested Bartson. No matter how dangerous this man might be he could not have bested her servant without a very noisy struggle. “My butler would never have allowed anyone in without an invitation.”

He offered an elegant shrug. “He was quite understanding when I revealed that I had only recently arrived in London. I assured him that had you known of my presence you most certainly would have desired me to attend your elegant gathering. We are, after all, destined to be quite intimately acquainted.”

Intimately?

A feather of fear whispered through her heart.

He sounded so utterly confident. So sure of himself.

She gave a sharp shake of her head. “Bartson would never have believed such nonsense.”

Those fingers stilled upon the diamond pin. “Why not? It is the simple truth.”

Once again she felt that compelling force of him reach out to wrap about her. It was almost tangible and Simone battled to clear her foggy mind.

“I think you must be mad,” she whispered with an unconscious frown.

Without warning the beautiful male features hardened and a glitter entered the black eyes.

“You have yet to know true madness,” he informed her in low tones. “But you will. And very soon I fear.”

She took an abrupt step backward, barely preventing herself from glancing about and ensuring that she was still surrounded by glittering guests.

She would not be frightened nor intimidated, she sternly reminded herself. Not again.

“Why are you here?”

Rather surprisingly he allowed his gaze to drift downward, lingering for a long moment upon the golden Medallion that she wore upon a slender chain. Oddly the metal seemed almost to warm as it lay between the curves of her breasts.

“To fulfill destiny, my dear Lady Gilbert. Soon enough you will be grateful for my presence.”

She blinked at his mysterious words, her fingers unconsciously reaching up to grasp the Medallion in a tight grip.

“Highly doubtful,” she forced herself to mutter. “I wish you to leave my home, sir.”

There was a ripple of muscles as he straightened from the column and towered over her.

“Is that a command?”

“I ... yes.”

Their gazes locked and clashed before a chilled smile curved the sensuous lips.

“A word of warning, my dear. Unlike these gentlemen whom you regard as mere flunkies, you cannot command me, or seduce me to your will. We will play this game by my rules.”

Simone did not need the warning. Everything about this remote, elegant stranger spoke of danger. She was not a fool.

“There is to be no game between us at all,” she informed him in cold tones. “Indeed, I never intend to set eyes upon you again.”

“A rather difficult task considering that I will be calling upon you tomorrow.”

She stiffened at his audacity. What the devil did this man want from her?

“Do not dare,” she warned, her emerald eyes flashing with fire. “You will be turned away at the door.”

Indifferent to her anger, Mr. Ravel smoothly reached out to grasp her hand before she even realized his intent. Simone caught her breath as searing heat shivered over her gloveless fingers, her stomach clenching in the oddest manner. She was so startled by the unexpected sensations she did not even protest as he lowered his head and stroked his warm lips over the inner skin of her wrist. Her heart stuttered, nearly coming to a complete halt before abruptly racing out of control. His lips barely caressed her, yet she felt as if she had been branded by his touch.

Her eyes were wide and darkened with a traitorous awareness when he slowly lifted his head to sweep his midnight gaze over her flushed countenance.

“You underestimate my powers of persuasion. A dangerous fault,” he murmured, allowing her hand to drop so that he could reach up to stroke the silky strands of her golden hair. “Wear your hair down again tomorrow. I find it quite enticing.”

With her knees shaking and her blood far warmer than it should be, Simone gaped at him in outrage.

“Why you ...” She began to stammer, only to realize there were not words to express her tumultuous emotions.

His smile widened. “Yes?”

Realizing that she had at last encountered a gentleman whom she could not tame to her satisfaction, Simone accepted that the only thing left was a dignified retreat. It was far too late to wish that she had simply ignored his unwelcome presence and maintained a cool disdain. Now she had to hope that his stay in London would be very brief indeed.

“Good night, Mr. Ravel,” she retorted in tight tones. “I would say it has been a pleasure, but not even good manners can force such a lie to my lips.”

His fingers drifted from her hair to lightly brush her cheek. “Perhaps it has not been a pleasure, but you will think of me tonight, my dear. Until tomorrow.”

Simone did not wait for his elegant bow.

Feeling more uneasy than she had since the first days she had arrived alone and frightened in London, Simone turned on her heel and fled through the room.

Gideon slipped through the shadows of the garden with fluid ease. With his black cape rippling about his lean form he blended into darkness with silent ease. Not even the dog sleeping near the hedge took note as he drifted past and headed toward the mews.

Not far from where he walked the light and music spilled from Lady Gilbert’s town house onto the neatly pruned roses. Barely aware of what he did, Gideon slowed and regarded the large house.

He was still adjusting to returning to the world of mortals.

It had not been an easy task.

His body felt heavy and plagued with the desires it had not experienced in two centuries. Hunger, passion, and overall the intoxicating scent of warm blood. Like an aphrodisiac it shrouded Gideon in temptation. So much power there for the taking. Heady, delicious power. He would be invincible, a seductive voice whispered deep in his heart. A vampire of old who walked through the night in mist and shadow, taking pleasure where he chose and drowning himself in the passions of his human flesh.

Gideon discovered himself trembling with the effort to control his suddenly raging emotions. He had underestimated the dark lure of lust. Power, passion and a primitive thirst to conquer warred with the cold command that was his birthright.

Gideon gave a sharp shake of his head. Through the windows of the town house he could make out the slender outline of Simone Gilbert.

Ah, now that was temptation, indeed.

Sweet temptation.

He gave a low snarl of annoyance.

He had not expected to find the maiden a beautiful minx with hair of spun gold and eyes that dared him to taste of her smoldering desire. Nor that he would react with such force to her enticing presence.

He had come to save his world from the traitors who would destroy it, he reminded himself with a stern chastisement. He could not afford to be distracted by the weakness of his flesh.

A hint of a frown marred his noble brow.

There were bound to be problems, he grimly conceded.

Simone had already revealed a stubborn, wary nature that was certain to revolt if he were to command her to obey his orders. And his subtle attempt at a Compulsion spell had been effectively blocked by the Medallion she wore about her neck. A difficulty he had not expected.

He would have to somehow convince her that she must accept his protection without revealing the true reason for her danger.

And at the same time keep a close guard on the renegades who would do whatever necessary to lay their hands upon that Medallion.

His lips twisted in a cold smile. He could only hope that Lucien and Sebastian were having better luck than he was.

Turning back toward the hedge Gideon continued his gliding path toward the back of the gardens.

Upon arriving in London he had first set about acquiring a home in Mayfair and suitable staff to ensure that he was readily accepted as a foreign noble with the sort of fortune that would buy him entrance to the Ton. After that had been the tedious task of meeting with a tailor and boot maker, as well as buying a proper carriage and horses.

Once he was certain that his image was well established he had swiftly made his way to the stews to discover a small army of street urchins who would act as his eyes and ears throughout town.