Just for a moment Simone instinctively tensed, unsure what was about to happen. The satin blackness of his hair brushed her chin, the scent of spices filling her senses. Of their own accord her hands raised to grasp his shoulders.
She felt the warm brush of his breath upon her skin, then shockingly the sharp points of his fangs.
Panic threatened to rise as there was the faintest prick upon her neck, but before she could give in to fear a warm rush of sensation relaxed her taut muscles.
There was no pain, just the sense of being enfolded in a comforting embrace. Her head tilted backward, allowing him to gently taste of her blood.
It lasted only a moment before he offered a lingering kiss and pulled away.
He did not speak, however, and holding her bemused gaze he lifted his hand and turning it over he bit the inner skin of his wrist. Blood instantly welled and he lifted it to softly place it against her lips.
Startled, Simone instinctively dipped out her tongue to taste of the wetness staining her lips.
She was not certain what she had expected, but it was not the sudden shock of emotions that tumbled through her. Her head spun as she squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to steady herself against the onslaught.
For long moments she struggled to calm herself. She was dazed and not at all certain she could bear the shimmering sensations that threatened to consume her.
Then slowly the torrent began to subside and she was able to concentrate upon the changes within her.
There was the awareness of Gideon, of course. But it was no longer the vague knowledge that he was near. He was clearly nestled within her mind, as well as the sharp sense of concern that held him tightly gripped as he watched her. More than anything, however, she felt the steady, undeniable beauty of his love.
A smile of wonder curved her lips. “Oh.”
“Simone, are you ... well?” he husked, his hands tightly gripping her own.
“I am ... whole,” she said, still marveling at the knowledge that they were truly bound together. “I did not realize how lonely I have been all my life. Now I am complete.”
“My sweet.” He reached down to delicately touch his lips to her own. “We will be wed according to human custom. I have already procurred a special license.”
“You ... you will not return to the Veil?” she forced herself to ask the question that refused to be dismissed no matter how irrational. Her father had loved her, but he had abandoned her. She could not bear it again.
He easily knew how important his answer was to her. “Perhaps for the occasional visit, but my place now is with you.”
“Yes,” she whispered, boldly leaning forward to claim his mouth with her own.
It was the first time she had ever initiated such an intimate caress and she discovered a heady delight as she felt his instant response. Encouraged by the sudden tension that gripped his body, she daringly raised her arms to twine them about his neck, tugging the ribbon from his hair so that she could thrust her fingers into the satin strands.
Gideon gave a throaty growl as his arms wrapped about her, taking firm command as his tongue urged her lips to open.
Simone readily complied, allowing him to deepen the kiss as his hands ran an impatient path over her back. Urgent pleasure flared through her, making her arch toward his warm body with aching need.
The sensation of his own rising passion swirled through her body, heating her blood and making her heart pound. It was astonishingly erotic to have his emotions pulsing through her, and Simone gave a low groan as she impatiently pressed herself closer.
“Simone.” With a heartfelt moan he reluctantly pulled back to regard her with a tight expression. “I think I should warn you that if you continue in this manner you will never be returned to your bed.”
She allowed a wicked grin to curve her lips. “That was my intention.”
“Wench,” he chided with a glint of amusement. “If you only knew how long I have ached to possess you.”
His teasing words abruptly forced Simone to realize that she had not yet been entirely truthful. She grimaced as she forced herself to pull away from his warm grasp.
After all the lies and charades between them, she had to ensure that when they came together it was in complete honesty.
“I could not give in to my desire no matter how much I might have wished to,” she confessed in low tones. “My charade as a widow would have come to a swift end.”
He stilled as he considered her confession. “Because you are innocent?”
“Yes.”
There was a long pause before Gideon abruptly heaved a deep sigh.
“Ah, my love, you do not know how you torture me.”
She frowned at his odd reaction. She had thought that he would be pleased that no other man had ever known her in an intimate manner.
“Torture?”
His hand rose to cup her chin. “We will wait for our wedding night.”
“But ...”
“It is how you have always dreamed it would be, is it not?” he demanded softly.
It was impossible to lie. Her every thought was now open to him. He already knew that even through all the years of torture and degradation she had dreamed that someday she would be rescued by her knight in shining armor.
More often than not it had been a foolish dream. What knight would possibly desire a bastard without a farthing to her name? She was a drudge without friend or even family who would acknowledge her.
And yet, through it all she had battled to maintain her innocence.
Her dream would not be stolen. And when her knight came she wanted to at least give him the gift of her virginity.
Now she was fiercely proud that she could give her innocence to Gideon.
“Yes,” she at last admitted with a small smile.
Although she could feel the dreadful struggle it took to rein in his smoldering passions, Gideon merely gave an understanding nod of his head.
“Then that is how it will be. You are already mine in all the ways that truly matter.”
Wondering if her heart could burst from sheer happiness, Simone lifted her hand to touch his lips.
“I love you.”
Chapter 14
Late the next morning Gideon was seated beside Simone on the bench in her garden. Rather ruefully he patted the special license that was safely tucked beneath his jacket.
When he had agreed to wait for Simone he had imagined they would be wed within a few days, if not hours, but as he came to study the unexpected vulnerabilities of the woman he loved he realized that she deserved more than a hurried marriage before the vicar.
All her life she had been taught to be ashamed of who she was. And while she still maintained her sister’s name, he was not about to allow her to think he wanted to hide their wedding from the world.
With considerable sacrifice he had ordered his staff to begin preparations for a lavish ceremony in St. George’s Square that would include the entire Ton.
If neither of them were quite whom society presumed them to be it did not matter.
Simone would have her day to shine brightly and he would at last have her at his side.
And just as importantly, a dark voice whispered in the back of his mind, in his bed.
Shifting uncomfortably as his body stirred in anticipation, Gideon choked back a groan of frustration. For all his logic, there was no controlling the endless need he felt for this woman.
Perfectly aware of his scandalous thoughts, Simone glanced up to flash him a wicked smile. The minx was becoming quite adept at driving him mad.
“Well?” she said in those sultry tones that made his blood heat to a near boiling point.
“Well what?” he demanded as he considered dragging her into his arms and reducing her to his own state of discomfort.
She held up the sketch she had been diligently working on for the past few hours.
“It is my wedding gown.”
Gideon obligingly studied the smooth charcoal lines drawn upon the pad then gave a decisive shake of his head.
“Absolutely not.”
She blinked in surprise at his firm tones. “But it is lovely.”
“It may be lovely but there are far too many buttons.”
“What?”
Taking the sketch pad from her hands he tossed it onto the bench and roughly drew her into his arms.
“I have waited too long for you. I will not devote half the evening attempting to wrestle you out of your gown.”
“Really, Gideon,” she attempted to chastise only to give a laugh as he planted desperate kisses down the length of her neck.
“One ribbon,” he conceded, continuing the fascinating discovery of the satin skin of her throat. “Perhaps two.”
Her hands lifted to clutch at his shoulders, her heart racing in a gratifying manner.
“I see you are to be a tyrant,” she complained in unsteady tones.
“Only when it comes to buttons,” he assured her, his tongue reaching out to lightly taste of her. “I wish to bed my wife without battling folderols.”
“Mmm.” Her head obligingly tipped back to allow him access to the vast amount of skin exposed by her plunging neckline. “Ribbons, then. Definitely ribbons.”
His mouth sought ever lower, pausing over the rapid beat of her heart.
