He paused before lifting a thin shoulder. “I am merely concerned for your welfare.”
Simone frowned at his words. This was the second occasion she had been warned that she was somehow in danger. A chill trickled down her spine.
“Concerned?”
“I have known Mr. Ravel for countless years and unfortunately I must confess that he is utterly untrustworthy.”
Her expression became cool at the rapier edge in his voice. It was obvious he possessed a deep dislike for Mr. Ravel. And that he hoped to sway her own opinion.
Regardless of the fact she had devoted most of the day to cursing Gideon she was not about to be blindly informed of whom she could or could not trust. Certainly not by a man who made her skin crawl.
“In what manner?” she retorted in tones that should have warned the most obtuse she was displeased.
“He rarely speaks the truth and always possesses a hidden motive when offering his friendship. Especially in regards to beautiful and wealthy women.”
“He is a fortune hunter?”
He heaved a sigh that hissed oddly through his teeth. “I am sad to say he is, indeed.”
Simone firmly turned to regard the landing crowded with elegant guests. If Mr. Ravel were a fortune hunter, he would be far from the first to have attempted to lure her.
She had been a target since arriving in London.
“I have no fear of being seduced out of my fortune, Mr. Soltern. I am no innocent chit who futilely clings to the notion of love.”
With her head turned she missed the lethal chill that momentarily tightened the gaunt features.
“Even a woman with remarkable wits can be blinded by her passions. You would do well to avoid the companionship of Mr. Ravel,” he persisted.
Being recalled of the passions that had been stirred to life only that afternoon did nothing to improve Simone’s temper. She did not want to believe she could ever be at the mercy of her desire. Not even for a gentleman who possessed the unearthly beauty of an angel and the seductive charm of a devil.
“It is very kind of you to concern yourself with my welfare, but I prefer to make my own judgments about others,” she said in tones that defied argument.
“But of course,” he agreed in oily tones that held only a hint of disapproval. “I merely sought to warn you of the dangers.”
“That is very kind, but hardly necessary. I am quite capable of caring for myself.” With a surge of relief Simone noted the elderly woman who was waving at her in an imperious manner. “If you will excuse me I must have a word with Lady Stewart.”
“Simone.” He reached out to grasp her arm, his lips thinning as she hastily eluded his touch. “I wish you to know that you can turn to me in time of need. You have only to send for me and I will come.”
She gave a distant nod, wishing only to be free of his disquieting presence.
“I will remember. Excuse me.”
Cold, na**d fury raced through Tristan as he watched the chit turn to rush away.
To think he was being denied the glory that was due to him because of this stupid wench was nearly unbearable. She was a mortal. Mere fodder for the greater race of vampires. And yet, because of blasted Nefri he was forced to treat her as if she were more than a source of blood for his feeding. Galling enough in itself, but to also add insult was the knowledge she was no closer to handing over the Medallion than when he had first discovered her a month before.
And now, Gideon had arrived.
He gave a low growl that sent a mincing dandy tumbling down the stairs in sudden fright.
With a flowing movement he turned to make his way back down the stairs, ignoring the crowd that unthinkingly melted out of his path.
He would not be thwarted. Not by an insignificant mortal or a vampire who had grown weak and content behind the Veil.
It was unthinkable.
And he intended both of them to know just how grave a mistake they had made in crossing his will.