When Twilight Burns (The Gardella Vampire Chronicles 4)

“I rang for her. She’ll be here any moment now.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” In the window’s reflection, his arm lifted from her shoulder and she saw that he was holding a slender rope.

“You cut the bellpull?”

“I didn’t want to ruin your reputation, Lady Rockley,” he said in a low purr. “At least here.” He moved closer, brushing up against the back of her from shoulder blade to bum to heel. His proximity brought warmth to her bare shoulders. “Especially now that the new marquess has arrived.”

“It would have served you right, Sebastian, if you’d sneaked into the wrong chamber. What if I’d had my belongings moved to a different one, as would be expected?”

He chuckled, his breath ruffling her hair. His hands had closed over the tops of her shoulders and began to rub them, gently moving the narrow bands of sleeves up and down over the curve. “Why do you think Verbena is sleeping so soundly? She had no qualms about chatting with me over a little turn of brandy—”

“—into which you no doubt slipped a bit of salvi, to help your cause. No wonder she’s snoring.” Victoria would have died before admitting it, but the gentle caresses over her arms lulled her from annoyance and edginess to . . . comfort. Perhaps something more.

“I’m nothing if not prepared—and resourceful.”

Victoria pulled gently away and turned. “As much as I’m enjoying your attempts at seduction—”

“You are?” His sensual lips widened into a delicious smile. “And here I thought I’d lost—”

“—I must presume you have another reason for arranging this assignation.” They were standing very close, slippers and boots staggered against each other. Her hem brushed the tops of his feet, and her full skirt edged between his ankles. He was looking down at her, his golden-brown hair a thick and wavy nimbus in the lamplight.

“You must? How . . . devastating.” He tugged her into his arms at the same moment, pulling her close, so close that she could see his eyelashes, even in the low light.

“I thought you were quite angry with me this morning,” she whispered, suddenly glad that he seemed to be no longer. Her heart was thudding in her chest, and the room felt very close and warm. Something seemed to have clicked inside her, opened, loosened. And she didn’t think it was just due to the sherry.

“I was. And most likely still am,” he replied, his breath warm on her face. “But right at this moment . . . I don’t quite recall why.”

She wasn’t sure she did either.

Victoria stepped closer, her foot sliding between his large booted ones as she met his mouth. Warmth flooded through her as though it had been released from some strict reservoir, and she sagged against him. His body was lean and solid, and as their mouths melded together, she moved her hands to touch his chest. It was warm under the linen shirt he wore, and she felt the curve of the muscle flexing there.

Before she could protest, Sebastian was pulling at the buttons at the back of her gown. “Perhaps I could take Verbena’s place this evening,” he said after a particularly long, delving kiss.

Victoria snickered against his mouth. “I’m disappointed in you,” she murmured, tugging away his neck cloth. “I thought you were more original. I imagine there must be dozens of eager lovers all over London offering to act as ladies’ maids on any given day.”

He huffed a small laugh against her neck, close enough to the sensitive part near her ear that she quivered. “If I’ve lost my rapier wit, it’s only because of you, Victoria.” She felt him draw in a breath, his chest expanding beneath her hands. He covered her lips again, drawing her sharply against him, plunging and twisting his tongue deeply into her mouth.

She allowed herself to taste him, the slick, sensual warmth flavored with brandy and clove, to let him coax and tease and seduce her with his mouth.

And then she pulled easily away, firmly stepping back. “I have something to tell you.”

He smiled crookedly at her. “Ah, well, I knew it couldn’t last. And, alas, I have things to tell you as well.”

“So you didn’t come here expressly to seduce me.” She stepped away from the window and gestured to one of the two wingback chairs. “Perhaps you’d care to take a seat.” Then she turned the lamp brighter.

“Ah, civility rears its ugly head,” he sighed, taking her suggestion. “Would you consider me uncouth if I mentioned how much, at this moment, I despise civility?”

Victoria chose to ignore him. “Are you going to give me the copper ring? You took yourself off so quickly this morning that I didn’t have a chance to ask—purposely, I’m sure.”

“You certainly have the sound of your aunt in your tone, now that you’ve taken her place as Illa Gardella.” He sat with one ankle positioned over his knee, lounging back into the depths of the chair.

“No prevarications, Sebastian. I take my role as the leader of the Venators—of which you are one—as seriously as she did. What do you plan to do with the ring?” She sat in the other wingback chair and faced him.

“The ring is one of the five Rings of Jubai that Lilith had made for her most trusted Guardian vampires,” Sebastian explained. Guardians were undead who had eyes that glowed ruby pink when they were angry. They were part of the vampire queen’s elite guard, and had the particular ability to easily enthrall mortals. They were very hard to kill. Beauregard had been a Guardian vampire. “Unfortunately, though you might expect otherwise, my grandfather was not one of the recipients of the five rings.”

Victoria gave a little laugh. “To the contrary. Knowing Beauregard as I did, I’m not at all surprised Lilith didn’t count him as one of her most trusted Guardians. Not only did there seem to be no love lost between them, but he also was clearly a creature concerned only with himself.”

“I’ll allow your disparaging comment about my grandfather to pass for now,” Sebastian said in a cooler voice. “I’m not ignorant of his faults, but he was still my grandfather and he never caused me any harm. What he did to you—tried to do—was unacceptable, and I reacted accordingly.”

“You do have my gratitude for that,” Victoria replied, fervently meaning it.

“Your gratitude? Ah, what a wealthy man am I,” he said dryly. Then his flippancy evaporated and a serious expression took over. “Before we talk further, there’s somethingI must tell you. I’ll get back to the Rings of Jubai in a moment, but first . . . Victoria, do you feel all of a piece? Since you . . . woke up, do you feel different?”