Darius dreamt of the sun.

He could even feel the heat of the rays against his face and body, the soft glow pulsing through him from the top of his head to the very soles of his feet.

And it felt wonderful.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, staring up at the sun that still had not made it fully over the hills in the distance. His eyes burned, unused to the intense light, and yet he kept staring, knowing too soon he would wake to the darkness.

Do not wake up, he thought to himself, and then felt someone resting against his shoulder.

He opened his eyes just as Gabrielle sat up on an elbow and looked down at him, a wide smile on her face. “Look Darius, the sun is rising above the hills.”

He reached up and touched her, cupping her beautiful face. It seemed so real, this dream.

“Look, Darius. Look!”

Sitting up, he looked down at the manor house, sitting amongst the trees. His heart jolted. This was the same spot he had brought Gabrielle to last night after finding her in the library. They had held each other and watched the stars until they had fallen asleep.

Merciful heavens … was this real?

The sun crept up over the hill, chasing the shade away.

Dear God, he would burn to death. The manor was too far away, but perhaps he could make it to the manor if he jumped—

“I will burn,” he said, ready to start down the hill, but she caught his arm.

“Do you trust me, Darius?”

He stared at her and looked at the sun on the horizon. He could feel his heart pounding nearly out of his chest. “Yes.”

“Then stay with me now. You know I would never hurt you. Last night you told me how you loved to come here to think, and how you loved to wake up and see the sun as it made its appearance each new day.” She kissed him gently. “I remembered a spell. You will not burn, Darius. You will not. I swear to you on my life.”

The sun had always been his enemy. Always, he had gauged time by it. How many hours he had until sunrise or sunset.

Until now.

“Here it comes, Darius.”

The sun rose in the sky, over the surrounding hills, casting the valley in a wonderful glow. He took it all in. The beautiful home he had built so long ago for his wife. The lands where he had played as a child. His throat tightened with emotion as he looked at Gabrielle, who absolutely beamed. She lifted her face to the sky and inhaled.

He had never seen anything so beautiful.

He did the same, lifted his face to the sky, and then held out his hands to the sun, palms up, half-expecting them to burn.

But they did not burn.

For five hundred years he had lived in darkness. Five hundred long years. He had forgotten the beauty around him when cast under the sun’s glow. All the colors that were so easy to forget, especially of the heather that graced the hills and valleys of his homeland.

“You are right, Darius. The manor is beautiful from here, as is all of it.”

Overcome with emotion, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight to him as tears burned his eyes. The last time he had wept had been at Rose and their baby’s burial. Now he let the tears slip down his cheeks unchecked.

He clung to her, wondering how he had been so lucky to receive her love twice in a lifetime, for he knew that Gabrielle and Rose were one in the same. She had returned to him somehow, and he would not question it ever again. He wanted only to savor this moment with this woman.

She had given him back his life in more ways than she would ever know.

“Thank you, Gabrielle. You do not know what it means.”

She looked up, tears shining in her eyes. “I think I do, Darius. You forget I can read your mind.” She went up on the tips of her toes and kissed him gently on the lips, then on each cheek, his chin, and forehead. “You are welcome, Darius.”

“How long do we have?”

“An hour, perhaps more. I do not know.”

It would take at least quarter of an hour to make it back down the hill to the manor.

“I had forgotten the clouds,” he said, looking up at the blue sky. “When you live in darkness, you do not see things as they are.”

“I can only imagine. I wonder why it is that vampires can only exist at night?”

“It is a curse of our kind. We are known for having marks across our souls.”

She remembered the black mark she had seen on him in the mirror. “And that mark means you are cursed forever?”

He nodded. “Yes, as far as I know.” Lifting her hand, he kissed it. “I shall never forget this gift, Gabrielle. Not for as long as I live.”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “I know why you fell in love with this place. It is heaven on earth.”

How pleased he was hearing those words from her sweet lips. He squeezed her tight, and vowed never to lose her again.

* * *

Sutherland watched from a distance.

He could pull the trigger, end both their lives in a flash, but he could not bring himself to do that just yet. No, he yearned to look them both in the eye and squeeze the life out of the little bitch who had made a fool of him.

And her lover who had spirited her away from London. Oh, he would take great pleasure in subjecting him to every kind of torture known to man. Darius MacLeod would suffer a slow, agonizing death that would make him think back on the day he had made a fool of him.

Oh yes, all of London whispered about Gabrielle, the beautiful young woman who had bested him. Disappeared without a trace. Her uncle even thought she might have been the infamous highwayman who had left as swiftly as he had appeared. One of her uncle’s spies had followed Darius to an old woman’s flat in Covent Garden and overheard a conversation between the two, where the gentleman highwayman had been discussed.

No doubt MacLeod had paid the old woman off for her silence since she had refused to speak to the spy after MacLeod’s departure.

The whore. How long had she been fucking the Scot?

It did not matter now. He would take her to Gretna Green, kicking and screaming if need be. At least she was already in Scotland, and Gretna Green was not more than a day’s ride away, mayhap a bit more.

Some things still confused him about her. If Gabrielle had been able to save a boy from death on the streets of London, then why did she have to go so far as to steal from the rich? Could she not conjure up money with her powers?

Lord knows she owed him a good sum, especially since her uncle had spent every bit of the small fortune Sutherland had paid him.

But he had paid dearly. Even now Gilbert Fairmont lay dead in a ditch somewhere along the Scottish border. The man had insisted on traveling north with him, but had proven to be an obnoxious companion from the start. Fidgety, chatty, and sipping from one of many flasks he had brought with him. After two days in the same carriage, the man reeked of liquor, making the interior stuffy and unpleasant. And his incessant chatter had been too much, always repeating the same question over and over again. Had Sutherland been able to ride on horseback, he would have done so. However, his aching bones would not allow it, so he had taken matters into his own hands.

When Gabrielle’s uncle had fallen off to sleep, Sutherland had taken the pillow behind him, placed it ever so gently over the drunk’s mouth, and pressed as hard as he could.

The struggle he put up had been downright pathetic.

His groom and driver had helped toss the body out shortly thereafter.

And now Gabrielle Fairmont would marry him or follow her uncle to hell.

He crouched down beside a fallen tree and watched the couple, who had their arms around each other. Indeed, MacLeod lifted Gabrielle’s chin in his hand and kissed her.

Sutherland bit back a retort. How he would love to shoot them dead on the spot, but this was not the time or place. No, he wanted Gabrielle to suffer greatly, and he had plenty of time.

* * *

Demetri could feel the tension in the room.

Remont sat at the piano, his slender fingers pounding on the keys, no doubt letting out all the fury he felt toward Demetri. A young man who Remont had met in the village sat near the piano, gazing at Remont with open admiration.

The boy could not be twenty, with chestnut-colored hair and dark eyes.

Demetri hated the young man on sight. Had Remont invited the boy here to make him jealous? If so, it was working quite well. Too well, in fact.

Darius and Gabrielle sat on a settee, looking comfortable and very much in love.

He emptied his glass in one swallow, and instantly a servant came to fill it. A young woman with nice tits and a nicely rounded ass. Demetri smiled at her, and she trembled, managing to splatter wine on his sleeve. “Sir, I am sorry.”

“Do not fret, lass. It will come out.”

“Are you certain, sir? I can get you another shirt.”

“Do not bother yourself. I think I shall retire shortly anyway.”

She swallowed hard, her lips curving softly.

Remont pounded on the keys, and Demetri tried not to smile. So his lover did mind if he flirted with another, even if he had a neighbor boy nearly frothing at the mouth.

They had both become almost comical. Was this what happened to couples who had been together for so long?

Demetri winked at the girl and walked away, toward the window, which proved to be a nice vantage point. At least he could look at Remont without seeming obvious.

If only they could go back to the way they had been before. Back in Venice where life had been so simple. But instead Demetri had wanted to see the world, or more importantly, his brother.

He did not regret visiting Darius. Indeed, he had seen Gabrielle and knew in an instant why he had been so compelled to leave Venice.

Gabrielle was the reason he went to London. To reunite his brother with Rose. After all, he had lived with the guilt of having Remont turn his brother without his consent all those years ago. Just because Demetri could not imagine a life without Darius in it. He would never forget the torment in his twin’s eyes when he told Demetri about Rose’s death. Darius had mourned her greatly, his child too, wondering if ever again he would find that happiness.

Gabrielle obviously adored Darius, and now Remont detested him. He had not even looked up when Demetri entered the parlor.

Nervous, Demetri paced the room full of beautiful marble statues. He contemplated one, a naked man with sword in hand. The artist had captured the human body in its most perfect form. The model’s high, firm buttocks flowed into long, muscled legs. Even his shoulders were wide and pleasing. He walked a full circle around it, frowning when he noted the model’s genitalia had been covered by a fig leaf.

Disappointing.

Of course, the statue and Remont had a lot in common. Both beautiful. Nearly perfect.

For a moment he considered sitting next to his lover on the piano bench, but Remont might just push him off the end, so he refrained.

You are letting him get to you, brother. Quit your pacing. He will know you are jealous. Just now, when you spoke to the woman, Remont watched the two of you intently. He still loves you.

He does not love me, Darius.

Aye, he does. More than you realize.

Demetri’s pulse skipped. Has he told you this?

In so many words, yes.

Demetri sighed heavily. What am I to do, especially with the new admirer here, making doe eyes at my lover? Where is he from, anyway? Look at those clothes. They are practically threadbare.

Do not make fun of those who have less than you, Demetri.

You are beginning to sound like Mother now.

Be that as it may, Remont invited the boy personally. It is not right to take it out on him solely.

Do you think Remont invited him just to anger me?

I think you already know the answer.

The guest suddenly burst into song, his voice surprisingly loud and booming for someone so slight of frame. He walked toward the piano, resting a hand on it as he gazed at Remont with obvious interest.

Demetri rolled his eyes. For the love of God!

Worse still, Remont grinned from ear to ear, looking exceedingly pleased with the young man’s talent.

If he sits on the bench next to him, I will tear his head from his body.

Darius laughed then, the sound vibrating in Demetri’s ears. Gabrielle elbowed him, and Darius covered with a cough.

And now the boy was on the prowl again, his steps taking him directly behind Remont.

He had better not …

The dark-eyed devil placed a hand on Remont’s shoulder, and Demetri nearly came out of his skin.

Do not do it, Demetri. He wants you to react, else he would not do it.

You think the boy knows Remont and I are lovers?

Darius shrugged. I doubt he knows the truth, especially since Remont personally invited the boy here.

Perhaps I should call an old lover to Scotland as well? Will that put me on more equal footing? Or no, I know. Let me send for Lord Whitcomb’s whore, the very one Remont detests so much.

Did you ever wonder if perhaps that is exactly what Remont wants? He yearns to be the only one in your life, brother. You have never been faithful, and he has accepted that, but now he grows weary.

Then why does he not leave me and give us both peace?

Because he does not know how to. That is what he is trying to do. Prove that he too is desirable. That he can have lovers, just as you do.

He was with another couple not long before we left for Scotland.

Only because you were with Whitcomb’s mistress. And perhaps he wanted to see for himself why you stray. Maybe he found the experience less than gratifying.

His heart skipped a beat. Do you think that is the case?

Lord, he hoped so.

I suppose you should be asking yourself if you can live with only one lover. If you cannot, then I suggest you let Remont go. He will survive, just as you will survive.

I am with those others to feed, Darius. Just as you do.

Feeding and making love are two different beasts now, are they not?

Yes and no.

Can you have one without the other?

Demetri shifted on his feet, glancing at the duo at the piano, who seemed so content. Remont grinned boyishly as he looked up at the younger man whose hand still rested on his shoulder.

Now that Darius brought up the subject about feeding and making love, perhaps that was exactly the problem. Making love was just a part of feeding. He had never thought much about it, save he could feed two desires at one time.

But love was never involved in the act, ever. Just sex and drinking blood.

Is Remont not enough for you?

I never thought about it before.

Well, I think you had best start thinking about it, brother. Before it is too late.

I cannot imagine my life without him.

You might not be able to imagine your life without him, but what about imagining your life without your many lovers? Can you remain faithful to Remont?

He frowned. I suppose I could.

Then perhaps you need to tell him that. Tell him what is in your heart. If you do not, then there could come a time when someone else beats you to it.

He had never been attracted to another human the way he had been attracted to Remont. His maker’s beauty had taken his breath away from the moment he had spotted him at that pub.

Little had he known he was a vampire. Once Remont had made him, Demetri had embraced his many gifts. He loved everything about the dark gift—the hedonistic lifestyle, the power, the strength. It had been like an aphrodisiac. All his senses had heightened as well.

But perhaps the very things Demetri loved about the dark gift were the qualities Remont disliked.