By Lisa Kessler

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After the fall of the Mayan civilization, Kane, an immortal Night Walker, has taken refuge in France for over 800 years. The modern world holds little interest for him until the night he meets the Golden Thief and is robbed of much more than his pocket watch.Marguerite Rousseau is living a double life. By day she is the assistant to an eccentric French artist, Antoine Berjon, and by night she dons elegant evening gowns to woo French dignitaries before lifting their wallets.Sparks ignite when Kane captures the thief, but Marguerite harbors a dark secret that could ruin them both.

He knew the second she entered the ballroom.  The sound of her laughter floated over the string quartet that played in the corner. Kane spun round, and his heart clenched. Her smile stopped time, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist. He resisted the urge to shove the other dancers away to get to her.

He couldn’t be too eager or the rabbit might flee.

Deep in the shadows of his soul, his spirit animal stirred. Kane halted for a moment, surprised at the awakening of the jungle cat. It had been decades since he last allowed himself to shift into his jaguar spirit. To feel it so close to the surface unsettled him.

When she approached him, her gaze demanded his attention. Tonight, he’d purposefully worn his finest rings and his favorite ruby-studded gold pocket watch.  His wealth would draw her to him like the moths ached to drink in the candle’s firelight.

Or so he’d hoped.

He bowed his head slightly. “Would you honor me with this dance?”

She placed her warm fingers into his hand. Her sapphire eyes sparkled up at him. “It would be my pleasure, Monsieur.”

His heart made a curious jump when he gripped her fingertips and guided her to the center of the ballroom. He placed his hand on her corseted waist and led her into a waltz.

They circled with the music, her footsteps following his lead. Her body moved with the music as if she were part of the melody filling the room. Before he realized it, he’d lost himself in the dance, in her.

Her full, rose-colored lips begged to be kissed, and her golden curls brushed over the swell of her breasts. His fingers yearned to touch her soft skin.

His gaze slid along her jaw and down the length of her neck. She wore an elaborately jeweled velvet choker that hid her pulse from him. Definitely for the best.

As the music reached its final cadence, he bowed to her and lifted her hand to press a kiss to the back of her knuckles. “A pleasure to dance with you.”

A smile tugged at her lips, and her cheeks flushed with color. “The pleasure was mine, Monsieur.”

He released her fingertips and watched her turn to leave. Kane frowned and straightened his shirt, rubbing at the scar hidden beneath the fabric before he could stop himself. This woman had a strange effect over him. His watch still dangled from his vest. She hadn’t taken the bait.

“Forgive me.” She stopped and turned toward him again, her smile paralyzing him. “I do not even know your name.”

She stared into his eyes for a moment, and he toyed with the idea of peering into her mind, but decided against it. This female was a delicious puzzle he would enjoy solving. Slowly.

She offered her hand. “I am Marguerite Rousseau.”

He looked up at her while he kissed the back of her skilled hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Marguerite. I am Kane Bordeaux.”

He straightened without releasing her hand. “Who is the lucky gentleman you were rushing away to see?”

She laughed and shook her head. “There is no man I wish to see.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I am parched and in search of good wine.”

Kane placed her hand at the crook of his arm. “Allow me?”

“Oui.” She punctuated her response with a flirtatious tilt of her head.

He led her through the dancers, toward the wine and assorted bread and cheeses that decorated the table at the far end of the ballroom.

“Our host has been most gracious tonight.” Kane filled a glass with wine and watched as she placed cheese and bread on her plate, and the tiny silver cheese tongs into her satchel.

Not only clever and quick, but brazen.

He handed her a wineglass when she turned toward him. Nothing in her demeanor betrayed nervousness or guilt. If he hadn’t seen her slip the silver into her bag, he never would have suspected anything was amiss.

Marguerite sipped at the wine and dabbed at her brow with her lace handkerchief.

He glanced at the doorway. “Would you like to step onto the balcony?”

She smiled and surprised him again by taking his hand. “Oui, but only if you will join me.”

“As if I would let such beauty out of my sight.”   Color crept up her powdered neck, invigorating her ivory skin. His tongue toyed with the sharp tips of his fangs while he fought the urge to taste her.

He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had awakened such desire in him.

She led him onto the balcony and sipped her wine.  “How do you know the Marquis?”

Kane leaned against the balcony wall, swirling the wine in his glass. “I purchased a mare from him a few years ago. He invites me to his parties in hopes I will return the kindness with more business.” He tilted the glass to his mouth without allowing any of the liquid to pass his lips. “Is the Marquis a relative of yours?”

“No. I attend on behalf of my Master. The Marquis is an admirer of his work.” A house servant passed by, and she placed her glass on the tray. She gnawed at her lower lip, drawing his attention to her perfect mouth. “And where is your wife, Monsieur?”

Her tone made the question sound like a challenge. Kane frowned and straightened to his full height. “I have never been married.”

She paused for a moment. “Without a wife and children, who will carry on your family line?”

He bit back a surprising burst of laughter. “I assure you, my family line will continue without a wife.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying him. “You are…puzzling, Monsieur Bordeaux.”

“I prefer to think of myself as simple. Relationships complicate.” He straightened his stifling vest, fighting the urge to rip it off. His gold watch thumped against his chest, reminding him that his quarry had not taken the bait. Interesting.

“Ah, but life would be dull without them, no?” The sound of her voice and the way the candlelight sparkled in her eyes hypnotized him. She took his hand again. “The final dance is beginning. We should join the party.”

He allowed her to pull him back into the ballroom, and spun her around to face him. They waltzed among the other party guests, circling the room until the dancers sharing the floor blurred around them.

As the music swelled, her hand slipped from his and Marguerite spun away to her new dance partner. A pert, auburn-haired beauty with a shy smile took his hand, and though he might have considered seducing her into his bed, he couldn’t focus on her. Not with Marguerite dancing one, then two partners away.

It was a dizzying flood of color as dresses billowed, dancers turned, and laughter blended with the crescendo of the string quartet. Kane bowed and waltzed with several new partners before he realized he’d lost Marguerite in the crowd.

He fingered his vest pocket.

He had also lost his favorite gold watch.