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
