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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.
    â€œMe.”

Chapter Two

    â€œH oly 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.”
    â€œNo,” she replied. “It would be much easier if I had.”
    â€œI 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 . . .”
    â€œTask?”
    â€œYes, task,” Caine asked. “When would you like this task done?”
    â€œNow.”
    â€œNow?”
    â€œIf it’s convenient, mi’lord.”
    â€œIf it’s convenient?”
    â€œOh, dear, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
    â€œWhy do you think you’ve upset me?”
    â€œBecause you’re shouting at me.”
    He realized she was right. He had been shouting. Caine let out a long sigh. For the first time in a good long while, his composure was completely shattered. He excused his shameful condition by telling himself that anyone with half a mind would have been caught off guard by such an outrageous request. She looked so sincere and appeared to be terribly fragile, too. Hell, the woman had freckles on the bridge of her nose, for God’s sake. She should be home under lock and key with her loving family protecting her, not standing in this seedy tavern calmly discussing her own murder.
    â€œI can see how distressed I’ve made you,” she said. “I really do apologize, Pagan. Have you never killed a woman before?” she asked. Her voice was filled with sympathy.
    She looked as if she felt sorry for him now. “No, I’ve never killed a woman before,” he grated out. “But there’s always a first time for everything, now isn’t there?”
    He’d meant the comment to be sarcastic. She took it to heart. “That’s the spirit,” she rushed out. She actually smiled at him then. “It really shouldn’t be too difficult for you. I’ll help, of course.”
    He wanted to throw his head down on the table. “You’re willing to help?” he strangled out.
    â€œCertainly.”
    â€œYou have lost your mind.”
    â€œNo, I haven’t,” she countered. “But I’m very desperate. This task must be done as soon as possible. Do you think you could hurry and finish your drink?”
    â€œWhy must it be done so soon?” he asked.
    â€œBecause they’re going to come for me sometime soon, perhaps even yet tonight. I’m going to die, Pagan, by their hand or yours, and I’d really rather determine my own end. Surely you can understand that.”
    â€œThen why don’t you just kill yourself?” Monk blurted out. “Wouldn’t that be much easier than hiring someone else?”
    â€œFor God’s sake, Monk, don’t encourage her.”
    â€œI’m not