and several coins spilled out. Monk let out a low whistle.
'There are thirty pieces in all,' she said, her gaze still downcast.
Caine raised an eyebrow in reaction to that statement. 'Thirty pieces of silver?'
She timidly nodded. 'Is that enough? It's all I have.'
'Who is it you wish to betray?'
She looked startled by that assumption. 'Oh, no, you misunderstand. I don't want to betray anyone.
I'm not a Judas, sir.'
He thought she looked insulted by his comment. 'It was an honest mistake to make.'
Her frown indicated she didn't agree. Caine vowed he wasn't going to let her get his temper riled.
'Then what is it you ask from me?'
'I would like you to kill someone, please.'
'Ah,' he drawled out. His disappointment was almost painful. She looked so damned innocent, so
pitifully vulnerable, yet sweetly asked him to murder someone for her.
'And who is this victim? Your husband, perchance?' The cynicism in his voice was as grating as a nail scraping down a chalkboard.
She didn't seem to mind his biting tone. 'No,' she answered.
'No? You're not married then?'
'Does it matter?'
'Oh, yes,' he countered in a whisper to match hers. 'It matters.'
'No, I'm not married.'
'Then who is it you want killed? Your father? Your brother?'
She shook her head again.
Caine slowly leaned forward. His patience was wearing as thin as the ale Monk watered down. 'I tire
of having to question you. Tell me.'
He'd forced a belligerent tone, certain he'd intimidate her into blurting out her full explanation. He knew he'd failed in that endeavor, however, when he caught the mutinous expression on her face. If he hadn't been watching her so intently, he knew he would have missed the flash of anger. The frightened little kitten had a little spirit inside her, after all.
'I would like you to accept this task before I explain,' she said.
'Task? You call hiring me to kill someone a task?' he asked, his voice incredulous.
'I do,' she announced with a nod.
She still refused to look him in the eye. That fact irritated him. 'All right,' he lied. 'I accept.'
Her shoulders sagged in what Caine surmised was acute relief. 'Tell me who my victim is,' he
instructed once again.
She slowly lifted her gaze to look at him then. The torment Caine saw in her eyes made his chest ache. The urge to reach out, to take her into his arms, to offer her comfort very nearly overwhelmed him. He suddenly felt outraged on her behalf, then had to shake his head over such a ludicrous, fanciful notion.
Hell, the woman was contracting him to murder someone.
Their gazes held a long while before Caine asked again, 'Well? Who is it you want killed?'
She took a deep breath before answering.
'Me.'
Chapter Two
'Holy Mother of God,' Monk whispered. 'You cannot be serious, dear lady.'
She didn't take her gaze away from Caine when she answered the tavernkeeper. 'I'm very serious, my good man. Do you think I would have ventured out into this part of town in the middle of the night if
I weren't serious?'
Caine answered her question. 'I think you've lost your mind.'
'No,' she replied. 'It would be much easier if I had.'
'I see,' Caine said. He was trying to keep his temper controlled, but the urge to shout at her made his throat ache. 'When would you like this… this…'
'Task?'
'Yes, task,' Caine asked. 'When would you like this task done?'
'Now.'
'Now?'
'If it's convenient, mi'lord.'
'If it's convenient?'
