“My dear, you seem rather quiet tonight,” Phillip said, breaking into her thoughts. “I do hope that my appearance didn’t set you off any plans you might have had to add to your dance card…though I must confess, I would have battled my way through any of your admirers to claim my waltz tonight. Or, dare I hope…waltz es?”

Victoria smiled up at him, but felt a twinge of guilt. She’d had to forestall or interrupt their dances more than once, when duty called for her to locate and stake a vampire. “Waltzes? I would be most delighted to grant you those, in the plural…insofar as I can trust you won’t try to relieve me of my jeweled hairpieces. Such stories I’ve heard about you, Sir Robin Hood, and your quick fingers.”

His eyes glinted appreciatively. “As I have been so bold as to proclaim, your majesty, it isn’t your jewels that I hope to obtain.”

“Something more valuable?” she asked, suddenly forgetting about Sebastian Vioget, and vampires, and anything other than the man looking down at her.

“Something eminently more valuable…and enjoyable.”

It was at that exceedingly inopportune moment that Victoria felt a telltale chill over the back of her neck. As she was well aware, that cold prickle wasn’t due to any sudden draft or change in temperature…it was her Venator sense telling her that a vampire was in the vicinity.

Blast.

Ignoring the sensation for the moment, Victoria looked demurely away from Phillip’s warm gaze. He’d already kissed her once, and he’d made it quite clear he intended to do so again.

“Is that so?” she replied, automatically moistening her lips before she realized how closely he was watching her. The warmth bloomed in her cheeks again and she felt a rise in her heartrate. Odd, how she felt little fear or consternation in facing a demonic undead…but when confronted with a mere man who was besotted with her, she felt more than a bit out of her element.