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Authors: Julie Garwood

Guardian Angel (5 page)

BOOK: Guardian Angel
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“Your opinion of me isn't at all relevant, sir. I hired you to complete an assignment and that is all. Is it customary for you to interview your victims before you do them in?”
He ignored her glare. “Tell me the rest of your name, or I may strangle you.”
“No, you mustn't strangle me,” she replied. “I don't want to die that way and I am the one doing the hiring, if you'll remember.”
“What way did you have in mind?” he asked. “Oh, hell, never mind. I don't want to know.”
“But you have to know,” she argued. “How can you kill me if you don't know how I want it done?”
“Later,” he interjected. “You may instruct me in the method you've chosen later. First things first, Jade. Are your parents waiting at home for you?”
“It's doubtful.”
“Why?”
“They're both dead.”
He closed his eyes and counted to ten. “So you're all alone?”
“No.”
“No?”
It was her turn to sigh. “I have a brother. I'm not going to tell you anything more, Pagan. It's too much of a risk, you see.”
“Why is it a risk, miss?” Monk asked.
“The more he knows about me, the more difficult the task will become. I believe it would be very upsetting to kill someone you liked. Don't you, sir?”
“I ain't never had to kill someone I liked,” Monk admitted. “As to that, I ain't never killed anyone. Still, your theory makes sense to me.”
It took all Caine had not to start bellowing. “Jade, I assure you that won't be a problem. At this moment, I don't like you at all.”
She took a step back. “Well, why not?” she asked. “I haven't been half as insulting as you have. Are you just a cranky person by nature, Pagan?”
“Don't call me Pagan.”
“Why not?”
“It's a danger, miss, if anyone overhears,” Monk blurted out when he saw how infuriated Caine was becoming. The muscle in the side of his jaw had started flexing. Caine had a fierce temper and she was innocently shaking him into a real froth. Why if he let loose, he might very well give her her wish and frighten her to death.
“What should I call him then?” she asked the tavernkeeper.
“Caine,” Monk answered with a nod. “You can call him Caine.”
She let out an inelegant snort. “And he thinks I have an unusual name?”
Caine reached out and grabbed hold of her chin. He forced her to look at him again. “What is your brother's name?”
“Nathan.”
“Where is Nathan now?”
“He's away on pressing business matters.”
“What business?”
She slapped his hand away before answering. “Shipping business.”
“When will he be back?”
Her glare could melt a lesser man. “Two weeks,” she snapped. “There, I've answered all your questions. Now will you please quit pestering me and get on with your assignment?”
“Where do you live, Jade?”
“Sir, your endless questions are giving me a pounding headache. I'm not at all used to having men scream at me.”
Caine glanced down at Monk and let him see his exasperation. “The daft woman wants me to kill her, yet now complains about a headache.”
She suddenly reached out, grabbed hold of his chin, and nudged him back to look at her. It was a deliberate imitation of his earlier action. Caine was so surprised by her boldness, he let her have her way.
“Now it's my turn,” she announced. “I'll ask you my questions and you will answer them. I'm the one giving you the silver coins, sir. First, and most important, I want to know if you're really going to kill me. Your hesitation alarms me. That and this endless inquisition.”
“You're going to have to satisfy my curiosity before I decide,” he told her.
“No.”
“Then I won't kill you.”
“You scoundrel!” she cried out. “You promised me before you knew who your victim was. You gave me your word!”
“I lied.”
Her gasp of outrage nearly knocked her over. “You are a real disappointment to me. A man of honor wouldn't so easily break his word. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Jade,” he answered. “I never said I was a man of honor.”
“Nay, miss, he didn't,” Monk interjected.
Her eyes turned the color of green fire. She was apparently furious with him. Her hands joined his on the tabletop. She leaned forward and whispered, “I was told Pagan never, ever breaks his word.”
“You were misinformed.”
They were almost nose to nose now. Caine tried to concentrate on their conversation, but her wonderful scent, so clean, so fresh, so utterly feminine, kept getting in the way.
She was shaking her head at him now. Caine was literally at a loss for words. He'd never had a woman stand up to him before. No, the ladies of the
ton
usually cowered when he showed the least amount of displeasure. This one was different, however. She wasn't just standing up to him either. She was actually matching him glare for glare. He suddenly felt like laughing and didn't have the faintest idea why.
Her insanity was obviously the catching kind.
“You really should be hanged,” she said. “You certainly had me fooled. You don't look like the sort to act so dastardly.”
She tried to move away from the table but Caine's hands covered hers, trapping her. He leaned down again, until his mouth was just a scant kiss away. “I'm a pirate, madam. We're known to be dastardly.”
He waited for another angry rebuttal. She burst into tears instead. Caine wasn't at all prepared for that emotional display.
While he reached for his handkerchief, Monk jumped to his feet and rushed over to comfort her. The barkeep awkwardly patted her on her shoulders. “There, there, miss, don't cry now.”
“It's all his fault,” she sobbed. “All I asked was a simple little favor. Just one quick task that wouldn't take him any time at all; but, no, he couldn't be bothered. I even offered to wait until he'd finished his refreshment,” she continued with a wail. “I was willing to pay good coins too.”
By the time she'd finished her pitiful tirade, Monk was glaring at Caine. “You've upset the pretty,” he told the Marquess. “Why, you've broken her heart.”
The tavernkeeper grabbed the handkerchief out of Caine's hand and began to awkwardly mop the tears away from her cheeks. “It will be all right, miss,” he crooned.
“No, it won't,” she argued. Her voice was muffled by the linen cloth Monk had shoved under her nose. “Do you know I've never asked anyone for anything in all my days? Yet the very first time I do ask, I'm denied my request. No one wants to make an honest living anymore. No, they'd rather steal than earn their way. It's a shame, isn't it, Monk?”
Caine was too incredulous to speak. He didn't know if he should take her into his arms and comfort her or grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. One thing was certain, however. If Monk continued to frown at him, he was going to break his nose.
“Mi'lady, it really ain't honest work to take coins from a lady and kill her,” Monk argued. He patted her shoulder in a bid to soften his gentle rebuke.
“Of course it's honest work,” she replied. “As long as the lady wants the killing done.”
Monk paused to rub his brow. “She's got a true point there, don't she?” he asked Caine.
“For the love of . . . now what are you doing?” Caine asked Jade when she began to collect her coins.
“I'm leaving,” she announced. “I'm sorry I bothered you, Pagan, or Caine, or whatever your real name is,” she whispered.
She tied the string into a knot, then tucked the bag in her pocket.
When she turned and started for the door, Caine called out. “Where do you think you're going?”
“That's none of your concern,” she answered. “Still, I'm not half as insolent as you are and so I shall tell you I'm going to find someone more cooperative. Have no fear, sir. I won't give up. Before this black night is over, I'll find someone willing to kill me.”
He caught her at the door. His hands settled on her shoulders and he slowly forced her around to look at him.
The minute he touched her, she started crying again. Caine was exasperated, unsettled too. He gave in to his overwhelming urge though, and roughly pulled her into his arms.
His bear hug seemed to be all the prodding she needed. She wept against his chest, whispering her apology for her unladylike behavior in between her loud sobs.
Caine was content to wait until she'd regained a bit of control. He couldn't possibly reason with her now. She was making so much noise she wouldn't have been able to hear a word he said anyway. And she kept blaming her current condition on him too. She was, without a doubt, the most confusing woman he'd ever encountered.
Lord, she was wonderfully soft. She fit him nicely too. He usually disliked women who cried, yet found he didn't want to let go of this one.
She was hiccupping just like a drunken peasant now, the aftermath of the quick storm.
It was high time he reasoned with her. “Jade, it can't possibly be as terrible as you now believe,” he told her in a low, husky voice. “Surely, come morning, you'll be thankful I didn't give in to your request.”
“I'll be dead come morning,” she wailed.
“No, you won't,” he replied. He gave her an affectionate squeeze. “I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. You can't really want to die just yet.”
“My brother's bound to be disappointed if I die,” she said.
“I would imagine so,” he answered dryly.
“Still, I'm not strong enough to fight them. They're very mean-hearted men. I fear they'll use me before they kill me. I don't want to die that way. There's no dignity in it.”
“Death with dignity?” he asked. “You speak like a soldier preparing for the battlefield.”
“I don't want to be remembered as a coward.”
“Will your brother be able to take care of your problem once he returns?”
“Oh, yes,” she answered. She rested her cheek against his chest. “Nathan wouldn't let anything happen to me. Since our papa died, he's become my protector. My brother's a very strong man.”
“Then I'll keep you safe until your brother returns. I give you my word.”
A long, silent minute passed before she showed any reaction to that promise. Caine thought she might be too overcome with gratitude to speak. Then she moved away from him and looked up into his eyes. He realized she wasn't overcome at all. Hell, she looked downright irritated. “You've already broken your word to me, sir. You promised you'd kill me and then changed your mind.”
“This is different,” he argued.
“You really mean what you say?”
“Yes, I mean what I say,” he answered. “You just explained that you'll be safe once your brother returns in two weeks. It is two weeks, isn't it?”
Her expression was solemn. “Perhaps even sooner. But you're a pirate. You cannot be taking such chances keeping me safe for two long weeks. There's a bounty on your head. I won't be responsible for getting you killed.”
“You don't have much faith in my ability.”
“I don't have
any
faith in your ability,” she qualified. “Why should I? You've just admitted that the rumors about you aren't at all reliable. You probably don't even leave a white rose on your victim's pillow, do you?”
Caine was exasperated with her again. “You don't have to sound so damned disappointed in me.”
“But I am disappointed!” she cried out. “You aren't even honorable. That's the real pity. Besides, you don't look at all strong enough to take on my enemies. You'd be an easy target, Caine. You're such a . . . big man. No, I'm sorry. I'm afraid you simply won't do.”
He wanted to throttle her.
She turned her back on him again and tried to leave. Caine was so astonished by her attitude he almost let her get away. Almost. He caught her just as she reached the walkway outside the door.
His hold wouldn't allow her any freedom as his arm was anchored around her shoulders. He tucked her into his side with as much care as he'd give an old blanket, then turned to speak to Monk. “I don't want you telling anyone what happened here tonight. Give me your word, Monk.”
“Why should he give you his word when you so freely break yours? A gentleman only asks as much as he can give in return, sir. Didn't your mama teach you any manners?” she asked.
“Ah, Jade,” he said. “That's the rub.” He looked down at her and slowly stroked the side of her cheek with his fingertips. “I'm not a gentleman. I'm a pirate, remember? There's a distinct difference.”
She went completely still the second he touched her. Caine thought she looked quite stunned. He didn't know what to make of that odd reaction. When his hand dropped away, she came out of her stupor and shoved against him.
“Yes, there is a difference,” she muttered. “Tell me this, Caine. If I make you angry enough, will you kill me in vexation?”
“The idea's beginning to have merit,” he answered.
“Let go of me. You must never touch me.”
“I mustn't?”
“No. I don't like to be touched.”
“Then how in God's name was I suppose to kill you?”
She obviously hadn't realized he was jesting. “You were going to use a pistol,” she told him. She paused to give him a suspicious look. “You do own one, don't you?”
BOOK: Guardian Angel
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