After a 400 year existence as a vampire, Gerard Pascale wants only to be left alone to shadow the midnight streets of turn of the century New Orleans . . . until blackmail binds him to a mortal bride who throws his dark world into an upheaval. Certain he can escape the unwanted bargain through the treacherous terms he makes, Gerard discovers his new wife may not be as helpless to resist his will as he at first believes.
Haunted by a whispered past of witchcraft and voodoo, Laure Cristobel became a bride out of necessity; to protect herself and the unborn child she carries. Though alarmed to find herself wed to a monster, she's dangerously close to falling in love with the man he once was . . . the man she hopes she can make him once again through her own magic skills.
"Out of the ordinary, powerful and satisfying. For those who want a juicy bite of the dark side, Midnight Enchantment is a delicious slice . . . a rare treat!" - Romantic Times
"A solid dose of paranormal adventure, with interesting characters playing
against a wonderfully evocative, mooding setting. Surprises a-plenty . . . never
less than moving."
-Scribes World Reviews www.scribesworld.com/reviews/
"Sensational! An extraordinary, suspenseful tale of love that will last
longer than a lifetime. Ms. Gideon once again displays her awesome talents in
bringing a handsome but deadly predator out of the night and into your hearts.
A definite keeper!"
- New Age Bookshelf www.angelfire.com/tx2/newagebookshelf/
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She was quite beautiful in repose.
From where he stood beside her bed, Gerard admitted that much to himself. He hadn't dared come so close to her before tending to his appetite. Just her presence beneath the same roof, let alone the temptation of her in the same room, had been almost too much for him earlier. And then he'd let his vanity carry him away. But now, he felt more in control and able to consider her dispassionately while she slept.
Yes, quite lovely, in that fragile, transitory way of humankind, with her softly pinked skin and gently parted lips. A fair bloom so easily bent, so quickly crushed.
Even now, as warmed as he was by the vitality of another, he was intoxicated by her, by the rhythmic brush of her breath in the quiet night, by the scent of her, the scent of living, breathing human. Drawn by the steady hypnotic pulse of that life within her, nearly as entranced as he had been downstairs. By the strong beat of her heart, by the sluice of the blood within her veins. By the tender hollow at the base of her bared throat where he could almost taste . . .
He tore his gaze away from the lure of creamy skin, damning the vile bargain he'd made.
He'd been mad to allow her into his home, into his life. The situation was ripe for tragic consequence. He'd been so smugly certain that her threat was gone when she'd fled from him the night before in unrestrained horror.
Obviously, his mistake for there she lay a short reach away in trusting repose.
Here she was, back again, her poise an affront to his plan to drive her from him. Buying furniture as if they'd be setting up house together. Hah! There was only one piece of furniture he required and it wasn't meant to be the centerpiece in her parlor ensemble.
Stupid girl. Brave stupid greedy girl. To rob from him and run was one thing, but to boldly confront him with her misdeeds was quite another. What did she think to gain through her bravado? His admiration? His respect? Only one mortal female had proven herself worthy of that. He frowned as dissatisfaction for his circumstance growled through him.
On the pristine sheets of the bed he didn't share with her, his young bride shifted restlessly.
His bride.
What a gruesomely comic union. What benefit could he draw from this creature who possessed his name and his fortune without allowing him the meagerest concession? She deserved no kindness, no quarter from him and yet her empathy, the pain he'd brought so briefly to flicker in her gaze had wounded him in ways he'd not thought possible.
Conscience? Bah! Compassion? Hardly. Not for this schemer whose black soul was so attractively wrapped in petal soft skin and hair the color of dawn. A dawn he hadn't seen for centuries captured in the taunting waves of blushed gold across fresh starched linens. The sight mesmerized, pulling him closer to feel between the rub of fingertips what could not be seen. Like that dawn, like silver, she would burn him if he let his guard relax even for an instant. A pain such as that was never forgotten. He drew back his hand and in his haste, the movement woke her.
He heard her sudden inhalation, a startled sharpness against the still of the eve. He didn't need to watch her depthless dark eyes widen to palpably experience her alarm. Then puzzlement crowded upon her brow as if she were wondering, struggling to remember . . .
"I didn't mean to wake you," he heard himself saying in words as soft as a whisper.
She stared up at him, clutching her covers up under her chin as if their purity could somehow protect her. As if anything could should he decide to take what he desired. He waited to see the loathing, the terror, return to her expression, the rightful reaction to what he was. But it didn't come. The apprehension, the tender flush of shyness remained but the awe, the fear she should have felt never materialized.
And then slowly, determinedly, she turned back the covers to welcome him as if he were a true husband, as if her were a man not a monster.
Stunned by the gesture and by what it must mean, he turned away from the offer, leaving her more lonely and isolated than he could have purposefully intended.
"You didn't tell her."
Percy bolted upright within his desk chair, papers scattering all about him. His frantic gaze flashed about his shadowed office before fixing upon the metallic gleam of his brother-in-law's eyes.
"Tell her what?" he asked with a nervous lick of his lips. Shaking hands began to gather his files together.
Gerard stepped farther into the room, away from the barely opened window through which he'd gained entrance. His expression held the same foreboding as the storm clouds banking above the Mississippi. Both warned of dangerous consequence.
"You let her wed me without telling her what I was."
"I told her enough."
Gerard laughed softly but Percy wasn't deceived into thinking him amused. "I hardly think so. When one makes a deal with a devil, one should know what he wagers. You are a wretched coward for holding to your silence."
Percy squared his narrow shoulders. "I don't deny that but I was thinking of her welfare, too."
"Really? By placing her into my care, an unsuspecting sacrifice?"
"Laure is hardly naive, sir." In later reflections, Gerard would come to wonder over the harshness of that claim. "And she is more able to care for herself than you might guess."
"And it is your guess that she will remain with me to secure your finances even after she learns the truth?"
Percy never faltered. "Yes. I think she will. You'll find no easy way out of this bargain, Pasquale. What I lack in fortitude, Laure holds in an abundance. If you knew the entire truth, perhaps it is you who might be afraid."
"Bastardo! I have nothing to fear from you." He spat symbolically on the floor.
But Percy merely smiled.
"If that were true, you would not be here and we would not be related. Knowledge is power, sir, and with what I know, I have twice your strength. If you are wise, you will give my Laure everything she desires and you will be careful not to make an enemy of me lest you find yourself frying in the morning light. I have the advantage of daylight, which you do not. Remember that, Pasquale, and remember that you exist for only as long as my dear sister remains unharmed and my fortune stays intact."
For a moment, Gerard said nothing. His impassive features with their unnatural lack of motion did more to unsettle the little lawyer than any display of force. Until Gerard chuckled softly and the chilling sound sent tremors shuddering up Percy's spine.
"I have not lived for centuries by letting insects such as you feed off me. You might remember that I am not particularly charitable to my enemies, either." His voice lowered to a threatening rumble. "Either you educate your sister . . . or I will."
Before Percy could respond, Pasquale was simply gone; a brief shimmer of form then . . . then nothing. For a moment, only the lawyer's hoarse breathing sounded then he gave a vicious curse.
Damn the man!
With a sweep of his arm, he sent all the folders flying. None of them would realize half the bounty that was close to escaping him. Pasquale's fortune was the solution to his troubles and his step-sister was both avenue and barrier to his success. He needed more time to siphon off a tidy sum to survive on.
He sat down, calming his breathing, collecting his thoughts. He didn't want mere survival. He wanted luxury. And to have it, he would have to rid himself of two very compelling problems. Or better yet, he could conceive of a way for them to destroy each other. It would interesting to see whose survival instincts prevailed. Not that it mattered as long as the outcome was as he'd prescribed. Both of them gone.
He smiled to himself.
Leaving him alone with all that lovely money.
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