My Lord Vampire (Immortal Rogues #1)(7)

But first he had to call upon Simone and somehow establish a means of forcing her to obey him.

His lips thinned. He would rather face the bloodthirsty Tristan.

Reaching the top step, Gideon patiently waited as the door was pulled open by the pug-faced butler who regarded him with a challenging stare. There was little doubt that the poor servant had been severely chastised for allowing him to pass last night, and that he fully intended to halt him today.

He was visibly bristling with aggression.

Stepping past the servant into the foyer, Gideon handed the man his hat and gloves.

“Mr. Ravel to see Lady Gilbert,” he stated smoothly.

The servant jutted out his chin. “Her ladyship is not at home.”

Gideon waved a slender hand, silently speaking the powerful words that would ensure he was allowed to see the stubborn minx. He did not possess the time for such nonsense.

“I fear you must be mistaken,” he said softly.

“No, I ...” The servant faltered as his thoughts became tangled. “I mean, she does not wish to see you.”

“She will see me.”

There was a strained silence. “I was commanded not to let you in.”

“Now I am commanding you to allow me to pass.”

“I ...”

“Move aside.”

There was a brief struggle before the butler was giving an obedient nod of his head.

“Yes, of course.”

Gideon smiled with cold satisfaction. “I will show myself in.”

“Very well.”

Knowing that it would be some time before the butler realized that he had once again failed his mistress, Gideon moved toward the steps and fluidly swept upward. He paused briefly upon the landing, using his senses to draw him toward a room at the end of the gallery. Even before opening the door he could feel the maiden’s tension as it hummed through the air. Somehow the thought that she was as unnerved as he brought a sense of satisfaction.

Moving with unearthly silence Gideon opened the door and slid into the ivory and gilded room. For a moment he merely watched the woman as she paced across the carpet, appreciating the manner the brilliant sapphire gown drifted about her slender curves, and the play of the afternoon sunlight in the flowing golden curls. There was a vibrant spirit about her that called to the stirring passions deep within him.

With a stern warning at his tenuous restraint he cloaked himself in the cool arrogance that had once seemed so effortless.

He was a superior being with powers beyond the comprehensions of a mere mortal.

No mere maiden was going to disrupt his equanimity. Or at least he would never reveal such weakness.

“Good day, Lady Gilbert,” he greeted in tones as smooth as black velvet.

He watched the slender body stiffen and her hands clench at her side before Simone slowly turned to regard him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“You. How ... ?” She bit off her words as she noted the expectant glint in his dark eyes. With an obvious effort she attempted to appear unconcerned by his sudden arrival. “What are you doing here?”

He waved a negligent hand, refusing to allow his gaze to linger on the translucent perfection of the satin skin revealed by the low bodice. Or to notice the musky scent of rosewater that filled the air.

“What any gentleman would be doing when he has been captivated by a beautiful woman,” he retorted as he strolled toward the center of the room. “I have come to pay homage.”

The emerald eyes flared but surprisingly she did not accept his calculated words with the ease he had hoped.

“Fah.”

“Fah?”

“You are not captivated.” Her expression was one of stubborn suspicion. “And you are not here to pay homage. I have had enough time to consider your odd arrival at my home last evening.”

A ripple of impatience threatened his calm demeanor. There was an unmistakable air of challenge about her that threatened to touch his more primitive nature.

“Indeed?” He stepped closer, hoping to intimidate her by his mere presence. “And what have you concluded ?”

She fiercely held her ground, although he did not miss the manner her fingers clutched at the folds of her skirt.

“That you are not whom you seem to be.”

Gideon regarded her a moment in silence, quite certain that she could not possibly have guessed the truth. Humans never desired to believe that there were powers beyond their comprehension.

“You still believe me to be an encroacher?” he demanded with a lift of his brow. “Shall I cut myself to prove my blue blood?”

Her features tightened, but Gideon suddenly sensed there was more than irritation behind her prickly unease. Despite all her bluff and bravado there was an unmistakable scent of fear in the air. Not a fear of her physical being, he carefully concluded, but a fear that he could harm her in some elusive fashion.

“What do you seek from me?” she demanded in tones that were not quite steady. “Is it money?”

Gideon regarded her with an arrested expression. The fear was now nearly palpable in the air.

She thought he desired money from her?

Why?

“Interesting.” He studied the guarded features that held enough stubborn pride to do a vampire proud. What could possibly force such a woman to harbor such anxiety? “You think I have come to blackmail you?”