“Perhaps you should regard me a bit closer, Mr. Ravel. I can assure you that I am a fully mature woman.”
A dangerous stillness pooled about him as he deliberately glanced back down to the vast amount of skin revealed by the crimson gown.
“You wish to challenge me?” he at last purred in silky tones, reaching without warning to grasp her elbow and steer her toward a distant door. “Very well.”
“What?” Simone stumbled over her skirts as she found herself being easily forced through the crowd. “Where are you taking me?”
He glanced down at her with a sardonic smile. “You requested that I regard you a bit closer; I can hardly do so in the midst of a crowded ballroom.”
Simone’s eyes widened. Surely he did not think she was going to actually allow him to ... to view more than was already on display?
“I believe you misunderstood me, sir,” she said in breathless tones. She might be an expert in flirtatious banter, but that was as far as her skills extended.
The dark gaze seared into her wide eyes. “Are you frightened, my dear?”
“Of course not,” she hastily denied.
“You prefer to remain here and graze among the sheep?”
There was no missing the challenge in his voice and Simone bit her bottom lip. It was one thing to calmly plot to bring this gentleman to heel, it was quite another to be whisked out of the ballroom and perhaps find herself treading waters that were far more dangerous than she had expected.
Only the hint of smug superiority in the dark eyes forced her to thrust aside the shivers of warning that raced through her.
“No.”
Something indefinable smoldered to life in the midnight eyes at her simple word.
“Then come along.”
His grasp tightened and with extraordinary ease he managed to clear a path and lead her onto the darkened terrace. He did not halt as she had expected but continued toward the stairs that led to the shadowed garden. In silence they followed the narrow trail that at last ended in a circle of marble benches with a fountain in the center.
The sultry heat surrounded them, the music only faintly audible as they slowed to a halt beside the fountain. Hoping to hide her unease, Simone pulled away and trailed her fingers through the water in the marble basin.
It was the perfect opportunity to weave her spell of seduction, but she found it oddly difficult to conjure the flirtatious manner that came so easy when in the company of most gentlemen.
Of course when she was in the company of other men the air did not feel so thick she could barely breathe and her stomach did not quiver as if frantic butterflies were battling to be released, she acknowledged wryly.
Feeling the prickles of awareness as his gaze swept over the long curtain of golden curls she had left loose to tumble about her shoulders, she reluctantly lifted her head.
She could not stand here like a nitwitted schoolgirl forever.
“I believe I should tell you that I was warned to beware you by an old acquaintance of yours,” she at last murmured, unable to conjure anything remotely clever to say.
Bathed in silver moonlight the refined features appeared to harden at her words.
“Were you?”
“Yes, a Mr. Soltern.”
An odd ripple seemed to stir the air as the midnight eyes abruptly narrowed.
“I see. And what did he tell you?”
Simone absently rubbed the rash of bumps upon her arms, sensing the tension that flowed from Gideon. Not for the first time she wondered precisely what had occurred between this gentleman and Mr. Soltern to create such animosity.
“That you were less than honest, with hidden motives in seeking me out. He also implied you were a fortune hunter.”
His smile held a grim determination. “I am, indeed, a hunter, but not of fortune.”
She eyed him warily, for the moment forgetting the reason she had allowed herself to be lured to the garden.
“Then what do you hunt?”
His gaze briefly lifted to sweep through the darkness that surrounded them, almost as if he were searching for someone, or something.
“Those who would seek to destroy my home,” he at last retorted in fierce tones.
Simone frowned at the mysterious words. Did he speak of a traitor to his country? Or a personal enemy that sought to harm his family?
“This Mr. Soltern is one you hunt?”
“Yes.”
She considered him for a long moment, wishing he were not so terribly clever at hiding his emotions. The pale, perfect features gave nothing away.
“What does this have to do with me?”
The dark gaze abruptly returned to her face, the uneasy tension fading as he allowed that mocking smile that so annoyed her to return to his lips.
“The time is not yet right to reveal such information.”
Feeling as if she had neatly been put into her place, Simone eyed him with a jaundiced frown. She wondered if he was deliberately offensive to keep her at a distance or if it was simply his nature.
“Fah.” She snapped open her fan. “You wrap yourself in mystery in the hopes of beguiling me.”
The dark brows rose in a taunting fashion. “I need no mystery to beguile you, my love. There are far more pleasurable means of doing so, if I chose.”
Her teeth clenched. “Is that so?”
“Shall I demonstrate?”
He stepped closer and Simone momentarily battled the urge to flee to the safety of the ballroom. Those earlier shivers of dark excitement returned as she felt the heat of him caress her bare skin.
Hoping she appeared far more assured than she felt, she gave a lift of one shoulder.
“If you wish.”
“Actually I am confident it is your wish,” he audaciously retorted, lifting a slender finger to trail it down the low cut of her neckline. “I would not desire to disappoint you.”
Her eyes widened, as much as from the shocking heat that flared through her body at his touch as by the arrogance of his claim.
“Why, you ...”
She had not quite decided upon the proper insult for his outlandish behavior, but in the end it did not matter as he abruptly lowered his head and claimed her lips in a branding kiss.
All thoughts faded as she was struck by a bolt of lightning that singed her from her lips to the tips of her curled toes.
Shimmering heat cloaked about her and the faint scent of... what was it? Cinnamon? A musky spice that clouded her thoughts and filled her senses. She leaned heavily against his hard, chiseled form as her knees became weak. His mouth moved with a practiced skill and Simone gave a low moan of pleasure.
She shivered as a potent desire flooded her body. His hands molded her ever closer, making her vibrantly aware of every hard curve and plane of his muscular form. She opened her lips, allowing him ready access to the moist warmth of her mouth.