Unicorn Vengeance by Claire Delacroix Page A

not been as unaffected as he might like her to believe.
    But given her own response, ‘twould be safer for her to resolve matters between them quickly. Too readily might she succumb to his need again, and ‘twas imperative she dispatch him before she slipped again. Genevieve smiled slowly as she regarded him, knowing full well the invitation that lingered in her expression.
    â€œAlready have you ensured that I am warmed,” she purred, her heart pounding at her own audacity. “Would you not see to my warmth this night yourself? I might well be convinced to return your coin.”
    His eyes widened. His brows drew together in a frown of disapproval even as his gaze slipped unwillingly over her form once more. He snorted, though the sound was less indignant than it had been earlier. Genevieve knew the idea was not without its appeal.
    â€œStreet women are all the same.” He sneered again. “Keep the coin. I have no need of anything with the taint of your kind upon it,” he growled disparagingly before he turned on his heel.
    Genevieve caught her breath at the insult. No worse was it to know that his comment was deserved after her shockingly wanton suggestion. How could she have made such an invitation? Her cheeks burned at her bold behavior. Stern words would her grandsire have had for her had he witnessed her deeds this day. She pulled the lute against her chest as tears rose to blur her vision, though still she could see him walking away.
    But she could not let him leave again! A pledge had she taken, and petty pride could not stand in the way of keeping her word.
    â€œWait!” Genevieve cried.
    Her words brought the stranger to a halt, though he paused as if surprised before he glanced back with his original impassive expression. Genevieve twisted her fingers together as she sought the words, then finally simply blurted out the first words that came to her lips.
    â€œWill I see you again?”
    His eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she immediately knew she had asked the wrong question. Genevieve cursed her tongue for making such a weak and feminine demand.
    â€œWhy?” His demand was harsh. Genevieve flushed and could not help but fidget. A far cry was her behavior from that of the seductress she had hoped to be, and dismay flooded through her at her own failure.
    Indeed, this plan had been a disaster from the beginning. Her cheeks flamed as she struggled to summon some of her earlier brashness.
    â€œI would like to talk to you again,” she said with an attempt to be coy that fell curiously flat. Now there was solid reasoning, she chided herself, hating how her confidence had abandoned her. The stranger snorted in disbelief.
    â€œYou would like to know that you would coax another denier from my purse,” he accused softly. Genevieve knew her mouth fell agape in shock at that and she glared at him openly.
    â€œNay! ‘Tis not that at all!”
    â€˜Twas too much that he should accuse her of such cold intent! Fury nudged aside her uncertainty and put a vigorous bounce in her step as she stalked after the cold stranger. Something flickered in his silver gaze, but she cared naught for what he might think. Genevieve poked her finger into the air in the direction of his broad chest, determined to set his perception straight.
    â€œHow dare you make such a callous assumption about someone you do not even know!” she demanded indignantly. “An honest woman am I, no more, no less, and though I must work for my keep, ‘tis not money alone that occupies my thoughts.”
    Her argument might have gone unvoiced for all the softening she saw in his expression. In fact, his lip curled slightly.
    â€œSpare me your pretty tales,” he said dismissively. “All work for their own motivation alone, and well enough do I know it. If ‘tis not coin you seek, then ‘tis something else you would have from me.”
    Fear flashed through Genevieve like