My Lord Vampire (Immortal Rogues #1)(47)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

Thankfully his teasing words lightened her dark expression and she flashed him a speaking gaze.

“Then I am not under some mysterious spell?”

Gideon paused to help her into the carriage before taking his own place and urging the horses down the street.

“Only the spell of my irresistible charm,” he assured her with a roguish grin.

She gave a loud sniff at his arrogance. “I would not claim it irresistible.”

He arched a dark brow. “You dare to question the power of my charm? Obviously I shall have to prove to you just how irresistible I can be.”

A smile touched Simone’s lips as they swiftly made their way back toward the more fashionable streets of London.

It was over.

Truly over.

Tristan could no longer threaten her, and most important of all, Gideon was safe.

It seemed unbelievable.

There would be no more glancing over her shoulder in fear that she was being followed, no more nights haunted by dreams of the vampire, no more pacing the floor in fear that Gideon would be taken from her.

Gideon.

Her smile slowly faded as she glanced at the purity of his handsome profile.

She had been so concerned that something might happen to him, that she had never taken the time to consider what would happen once this was all over.

Tristan was dead. There was no more threat to her. And no more reason for him to remain.

Whatever his claims to possess feelings for her, his place was not in London. And she could not go with him to the mysterious Veil.

A hollow emptiness filled her even as she struggled to hold on to her composure.

She would not make this difficult for Gideon, she swore to herself. He had given her too much to make him feel guilty for what he must do.

She would simply live for the moment and accept whatever he could offer.

Distracted by her dark thoughts, Simone paid little heed to their progress through town until the carriage came to a halt and she realized that they were in the mews behind Gideon’s home.

A renegade flare of excitement flared through her as she realized that their time together was to be prolonged.

Whatever he offered, she told herself, ignoring the tiny voice in the back of her mind that chided her scandalous behavior.

“You are very certain of your charms to bring me to your home at such an hour,” she attempted to tease in light tones.

“No.” He turned to regard her with a somber expression. “I just cannot bear to allow you out of my sight. I came far too close to losing you tonight.”

Her heart leaped at his words. “Oh.”

“Will you join me?”

She hesitated only a moment before giving a nod of her head. She might later regret her reckless behavior, but for now she needed to be with Gideon.

“If you wish.”

“With all my heart,” he murmured softly.

For a moment they gazed at one another in silence, then as a sleepy groom slowly shuffled toward the carriage, Gideon swiftly leaped down and moved to swing her to the ground.

In silence they moved toward the darkened house, using the same path she had used earlier to enter the kitchen and up the back stairs. It was not until they were in Gideon’s chamber and he was lighting a candle that her 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.