Alexandra Ivy - My Lord Vampire

She could have spent hours admiring the masterpieces that had been hidden away, but Mary was already headed toward the far end of the room. She swiftly caught up just as Mary halted next to a small portrait that had been hung by itself in a corner.

“There.”

Simone raised her brows in bewilderment. “It is a portrait.”

“Look closer,” Mary commanded.

Biting back an impatient sigh, Simone lifted the candelabra and studied the dark picture. It took only a moment as the soft light revealed the finely hued countenance of the gentleman for her heart to skid to a halt.

“Good heavens,” she whispered. “It is Mr. Ravel.”

“That is what I thought, until I noted the small plaque,” Mary retorted.

Lowering her gaze Simone read the words engraved into the plaque. “Lord Ravel. Penwhick Castle. 1520 A.D.

“I assure you that it gave me quite a start when I first noticed it.”

Simone’s disbelieving gaze returned to the portrait, noting the heavy velvet and lace that the gentleman wore. Certainly there was no gentleman today who would choose such garments.

“It is impossible.”

“It does look remarkably like him, even that gold ring he wears.”

Simone gave a shake of her head, her breath oddly elusive as she searched for some hint that this was not Gideon.

“It looks precisely like him,” she muttered.

“I suppose it must be a relative of Mr. Ravel’s,” Mary continued to chatter, unaware of the tension gripping Simone.

“Yes,” she agreed, although deep within her she could not make herself accept that it was mere coincidence. She had always looked much like her sister, both of them with the same golden hair and slender frames. They both even had a similar birthmark upon their hip. But this ... this was not mere resemblance. Every feature, from the glossy dark hair to the arrogant tilt of his chin was precisely the same.

“He looks quite dashing with that ruff and lace. Do you suppose he was as sinfully charming as the current Mr. Ravel?”

Simone shivered. “No doubt.”

“Penwhick Castle. I have never heard of such an estate, have you?”

“No.”

“Well, perhaps it has changed titles.”

Simone was incapable of coherent thought. She had to be alone, to consider this in a rational manner. It could not be true. This could not be Gideon. At least not him in 1520.

And yet, she could not shake the disturbing tremors that raced through her body.

“I must go.”

Mary turned to glance at her in surprise at her sharp tones. “You are pale. Do you not feel well?”

“I am a trifle dizzy,” she replied in all honesty.

“Shall I call for a servant?”

“No.” She pressed her hands to her tightly clenched stomach. “I will return home. Thank you for revealing the portrait. It is quite ... astonishing.”

Mary frowned with concern. “When you get home have a nice, large shot of brandy. It will soon have you set to right.”

Simone smiled but she feared that it would take several bottles of brandy to set her to right. She was uncertain that all of France possessed enough brandy for such a feat.

“Yes, a most tempting notion,” she murmured, turning on her heel to hurry from the room.

She had to ...

What?

Try to pretend that she had not seen the portrait? It was certainly a tempting thought.

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?”