A Daring Passion

Sucking in a deep breath, Raine squared her shoulders and prepared to barter as she had never bartered in her life.

“Are you willing to accept my bargain?”

Seurat gave a restless shrug. “What do you demand of me for these jewels?”

She regarded him with a steely expression. The years she had spent at the convent had not been wasted. There were few in the world who could match a nun for quelling others without ever having to speak a word.

“I will not give them to you until I have your word that you will halt your attempts to harm the Gautier family. Indeed, I do not want you to come near any of them again.”

“That is all?” Seurat asked.

“No.” She folded her arms over her chest, ignoring the realization that she must appear more like a grubby waif than an imposing woman capable of enforcing her will. “I also demand that you write out a confession that you forged the treasonous documents that you hid in Jean-Pierre’s rooms, and I want the confession witnessed by a priest. Once you give me the paper, I will give you the jewels.”

Seurat paced toward the window as he gnawed his wellordered in unease. Raine remained patient as she carefully watched his tense profile.

She did not expect it to be an easy matter for him. He desperately desired the

money. It would, after all, provide a comfortable existence and the sort of dignity that was denied him. And yet, the lust for revenge burned fierce in his heart.

He could not easily turn aside his thirst to punish the man who had stolen his glory and then tried to put an end to his life. It had been the reason he had survived, skulking in the shadows and desperately concocting his schemes for so many years.

The poison had gone so deep, and had devoured him for so long, it would no doubt be like cutting off one of his limbs to accept peace.

At last he turned back, licking his lips with a nervous motion. “And how do I know that these jewels are not paste?” he demanded.

Raine gave a lift of her brows. “Do you truly believe that Philippe Gautier would ever give his mistress fake jewels?”

Seurat grimaced as he realized how ridiculous his accusation had been. A Gautier might be many things, but frugal was not one of them.

“Even if they are real I would be arrested the moment I attempted to sell them. No one would believe that they were given to me as a gift,” he challenged. “If we are to make a bargain, then you must give me coin.”

Raine hated to admit it, but there was some truth to his words. Although there were always the sort of criminals willing to buy goods without tedious questions, they would hardly offer more than a pittance of what the necklaces were worth. And any legitimate jeweler would presume that Seurat had come by them in some illegal fashion.

Bloody hell. It would be up to her to somehow find the means of selling the blasted things. A task she did not have the faintest notion of how to accomplish. Certainly not without Philippe becoming suspicious.

“It will take a few days to have the jewels appraised and sold,” she grudgingly agreed. “I can deliver the money here when…”

“No,” Seurat growled, stepping close enough for that sour smell to assault Raine’s senses. “I am not a fool.”

Covertly she took a step backward. “What do you mean?”

He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Do you believe that I will remain here if I allow you to leave? Sacrebleu. I might as well invite Philippe to come and murder me in my sleep.”

Raine stiffened as a rather ridiculous flare of annoyance raced through her. She did not like having her honor questioned. Even by a madman.

“I assure you that once I give my word it is to be trusted,” she said stiffly. “I will not tell Philippe where to find you.”

“I trust no one,” he rasped, his breath coming in short, nervous puffs as he dared to consider the tantalizing offer. How could he not consider it? He clearly lived a miserly existence that would only become worse in the years to come. Revenge would be a cold comfort as he struggled just to survive. “I will contact you with a place for us to meet in three days. A place that I can be certain that you will come alone.”

Raine reached out a hand, only to drop it when he flinched from her touch. “Then we have a bargain?”

“I do not know,” he muttered, rubbing his temples as if his head was aching. “I must think.”

“What is it that troubles you?” she demanded softly.

“I…”

They both froze as the sound of a tap on the door echoed through the room. It was so utterly unexpected that for a moment they merely stared at each other in surprise. Then there was the unmistakable scrape of metal as someone attempted to pick the lock. Seurat gave a soft hiss before his hand clamped on her wrist and he hauled her across the room and into the small bedchamber with startling strength.