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?”

A shiver raced through her stiff form but she faced him squarely.

“Have you?”

“I wonder what dark secret you possess,” he murmured softly. “It must be dark indeed to fear blackmail.”

Her gaze narrowed with impatience. “I am in no humor to play these absurd games, sir. What is it that you want?”

He briefly considered the wisdom of using her unwitting weapon to hold her in his power, before he was thrusting it aside. Perhaps he could force her to obey his commands, but he oddly disliked the notion of allowing her to believe he was a cowardly buffoon who would abuse her secrets for his own gain.

What he desired was her trust, he realized with a flare of surprise.

“It is really quite simple,” he informed her in silky tones. “I have come to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Her golden brows pleated in a disbelieving frown. “That is ridiculous. I need no protection.”

Foolish chit.

He briefly thought of Tristan standing upon the terrace last evening. With a single word he could have cloaked himself in mist and entered her home. She would have been dead before she ever realized she was in danger. Only the fact that she possessed the Medallion had thus far saved her. The renegade could not lure her with a spell, nor simply kill her. The Medallion had been bonded to her with a Soul Weave. Unless she gave it freely it could not be taken.

“That is because you do not yet realize your danger,” he informed darkly.

“Danger from whom?”

“That is all I am willing to tell you.”

“This is absurd.” She folded her arms about her waist, unconsciously making the full curve of her bosom all the more visible. Gideon could almost taste the sweet heat of her skin. “I am not about to allow some arrogant stranger to thrust his way into my home under the pretext of a mythical danger you will not even reveal.”

He gazed down the length of his thin nose. “Actually you have little choice in the matter.”

The absolute authority in his tone made a tiny muscle in her jaw pulse. “I was right last night. You are mad.”

Gideon shrugged, not about to indulge her in a futile argument. Protecting the Medallion was his entire purpose in being within the world of mortals. He would do whatever necessary.

Stepping close enough to be bathed in her rose scent, he allowed his gaze to lower toward the shimmering golden Medallion that lay against her white skin.

Although disguised as a simple amulet, his sensitive gaze could easily discern the power that pulsed within. He felt a small tingle of awe at the tangible symbol of Nefri and her glory.

“Tell me, Lady Gilbert, where did you buy that unusual necklace?”

She blinked in bewilderment at his sudden shift in conversation. “What?”

“It is a most interesting design.”

Her lips thinned at his obvious ploy. “We were discussing your unwelcome presence in my home, not my necklace.”

“You have a reason not to discuss the necklace?” he challenged smoothly. “You perhaps stole it?”

Predictably she bristled at his words. “Certainly not. If you must know it was given to me by an old gypsy.”

He wondered what she would do if he were to tell her that it was a priceless relic that possessed untold power. And that the old gypsy had been the mightiest of all vampires.

No doubt she would truly label him mad.

Or run into the streets screaming with fear.

“That would explain the inscription,” he murmured instead.

“You know what it means?” she said in surprise.

Unable to resist temptation Gideon lifted his hand to grasp the Medallion in his fingers.

Whether the temptation was to feel the shimmering power within the amulet or to have an excuse to allow his fingers to rest against the pearly softness of her skin he did not bother to ponder.

“‘Those who search for peace have already discovered wisdom,’” he quoted in low tones.

“Oh,” she breathed, her heart beating frantically at the light touch of his fingers.

“Did this gypsy tell you anything of this amulet?”

“Only some foolishness about never removing it at the risk of a terrible curse and that it can never be stolen, only freely given to another. The usual gypsy nonsense.”

His eyes bored deep within her own, willing her to comprehend just how dangerous it would be to remove the Medallion.

“I would not dismiss her words so swiftly.”

“I ... surely you do not ask me to believe in curses?” she demanded, but without the bluster she had managed before.

“I ask you to believe that there are mysteries in the world that are not easily explained. Mysteries that defy logic.”

“Mysteries such as you?” she charged.

“Yes.”

He could not prevent the faint smile that suddenly curved his lips, nor the fingers that loosened their hold upon the amulet to softly explore the skin that was driving him to distraction. His breath caught as he skimmed the warm silkiness that he had not felt in two centuries.

Dark passions once again stirred within him, making the air feel as thick as honey. This woman possessed something ... something that he had never before experienced. It threatened to unloosen the lust that smoldered deep within him.

His heart slowed as he watched his fingers travel over the sensuous curve of her breast, a building need to brand her as his own hardening his body.

He reached the edge of the bodice before she at last sucked in a sharp breath and gave a shake of her head.

“No. Please do not do that,” she whispered in uneven tones.

It was the very fact he could feel the desire pulsing through her blood that at last brought him to his senses.

This was not a part of his plan, he reminded himself coldly. And whatever the pleasure it might provide it would only add complications to a very dangerous situation.

Still he could not deny that there was something to be said for encouraging her desire, a renegade voice whispered in the back of his mind.

She was too independent to meekly submit to another’s commands, and too stubborn to accept that he might know what was best for her. Perhaps he could subdue her through her own devilish pride.

He had already witnessed the manner she used her beauty as a weapon over weak-willed men. And how indifferent she was to her ability to arouse their desires. It would not be easy for her to accept she might actually feel passion for a gentleman who was indifferent to her potent charms.

Surely such a woman would do whatever necessary to prove that she was irresistible?

Including putting aside her distrust in an effort to lure him into her web. Which would allow him to remain close enough to protect her.

A logical plan. As long as he kept his own passions locked deep within him.

Glancing into the wide emerald eyes, he lifted one dark brow.

“What is the matter? You do not need to be ashamed of your skin. It is as smooth as heated cream. Quite delectable, in fact.”

“I do not want you to touch me,” she forced herself to mutter.

He gave a low, throaty laugh. “Is that why you shiver beneath my fingers? Why your blood races?”

A sudden flush spread beneath her cheeks as she took an abrupt step backward.

“Why you arrogant ... worm,” she gritted in embarrassment.

He folded his arms over his chest. “There is nothing arrogant in my realization that you desire me.”

She visibly tensed as she regarded him in frustration. It was obvious she was unaccustomed to encountering gentlemen who did not crawl upon their knees to please her.

He allowed his smile to widen.

“I was not the one to pursue you to your home, nor to ... to fondle you,” she spat out.

“I was merely seeking to discover if your skin is as soft as it appears.”

The emerald eyes narrowed in a dangerous manner. “Mere curiosity?”

Thankful that she could not possibly know that his fingers still tingled with pleasure, nor that the demons still raged within him, Gideon offered a faint shrug.