nerves at last made themselves known.
Pacing uneasily toward the window she cleared her throat. “It will soon be morning.”
“We have a few hours yet,” he murmured.
She turned to discover him regarding her with a watchful gaze.
“A few hours for what?” The words burst out before she could halt them.
He slowly smiled as he held out his hand. “Come, Simone.”
Gathering her courage Simone moved toward him, even allowing him to lead her to the large bed so that they could perch upon the edge of the mattress.
Uncertain what was to come next she was startled when he made no motion to touch her beyond stroking a hand softly over her hair.
“What is it, Gideon?” she demanded, wondering if she was supposed to do something.
“You have told me that you love me.”
“Yes.”
His fingers moved to touch her cheek. “Already we share much of each other. You can sense when I am near and what I am feeling.”
Her eyes widened in shock at his words. “How did you know?”
“You are just as deeply branded within me.”
She gave a slow shake of her head. She had barely allowed herself to acknowledge just how aware she was of Gideon. Not only the sense when he was near, but the unmistakable realization that his emotions were irrevocably enwrapped with her own.
“It is so strange. I have never experienced this before.”
He smiled at her wondering tone. “It is a gift known only to vampires.”
“But I am not a vampire,” she ridiculously retorted.
“No, but you wear a powerful artifact of my people. It has already altered you in many ways.”
Simone’s hand instinctively rose to touch the golden amulet. It was true that she had noted the subtle changes in herself. Her heightened senses and even being able to see more clearly in the dark. It was not precisely frightening, but, to actually consider that she was being altered ...
“Good heavens,” she breathed.
“Do not fear,” he gently comforted, those distracting fingers continuing to send pleasurable tingles through her body. “It will not harm you.”
“No, I suppose not.”
He paused before he tilted her chin upward so that she was forced to meet his searching gaze. “Simone?”
“Yes?”
“Do you trust me?” he demanded.
She blinked at the odd question. “You know that I do.”
“Enough to place your future in my hands?”
The very air seemed to thicken with tension as she studied his pale features. Was it possible that he did not intend to leave her? That he would remain in London with her?
It was what she desired more than anything in the world, but she was frightened to allow her hopes to be raised.
“Are ... are you asking me to wed you, Gideon?” she asked in cautious tones.
He frowned, as if he were startled by her question. “Of course I intend to wed you,” he retorted, seemingly unaware that he had just made her dearest dream come true. “But what I ask of you is to join your very soul with my own.”
Simone attempted to think through the cloud of joy that filled her thoughts.
He wanted to marry her.
Her.
Sally Jenkins.
Not Lady Gilbert. Not the “Wicked Temptress.”
But the insignificant daughter of a governess.
It did not seem possible.
But even as she grew dizzy from shocked delight, she realized he was awaiting her response.
What had he said?
Join their souls?
She gave a faint frown as she attempted to consider what he might possibly mean.
“Is that possible?”
