Gift of Gold

way of manipulating Quarrel without a lever. He’s too free, too independent. Originally I considered simply paying him to do the job, but I know now that wouldn’t work. He’d tell me to get lost. There’s nothing I can offer him or use to coerce him.”
    “Except Verity?”
    “Except Verity. He wants her, Tavi. That was crystal clear last night. The man is as possessive as hell. I saw it in his eyes. In fact, I would be willing to bet that he made love to her last night. There was something about her this morning that was not there last evening. I suspect Quarrel staked his claim in bed.”
    “It could all be a figment of your imagination.” Tavi’s cup clattered on its saucer. She finished her tea with trembling fingers. “You’ve been living with your schemes and plans for so long that you might be fooling yourself into thinking you can actually turn them into reality.”
    Caitlin’s frown was sharp as she snapped her head around to glare at her companion. “I found him, didn’t I? I located Quarrel after all this time. You didn’t think I’d get that far, but I did.”
    Tavi nodded reluctantly, saying nothing.
    Caitlin relaxed and turned back to the view. “I knew that when I found him I would need some leverage to persuade him to play his role. Verity Ames is that leverage. I know she is.”
    “Just because she’s sleeping with him, you think you can use her to manipulate him?”
    “It’s not a casual affair,” Caitlin rasped. “You didn’t see the look in his eyes last night. I did. There’s no telling how long he will want her. A man’s attention span is apt to be quite short. But for the moment he’s captivated by her, and while he’s in that state he will be easy to maneuver.”
    “Why?”
    “Because there is a streak of wildness in him,” Caitlin stated. “Most of the time he has it under control, but when it appears, he is vulnerable. I saw it the day he gave that lecture at Vincent and I saw it later when he nearly killed a man.”
    “Wonderful. Now we’re dealing with a crazy man.”
    Caitlin shook her head. “No, far from it. I’ve read the reports on him. He’s definitely not crazy. In fact, he has great strength of mind, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived his talent this long.”
    “Caitlin, you don’t know that. You can’t be certain. You’re taking a huge risk.”
    “What do I have to lose?”
    “You know the answer to that as well as I do. You’ve told me yourself that if you go through with this you’ll never paint again. And if you stop painting I think you might decide to do something very drastic.”
    “You’re being morbid.”
    “How would you describe your view?” Tavi demanded tightly. “You’ve lived for years with no other goals but revenge and your art. If you satisfy your lust for vengeance and simultaneously cease painting, what will you have left?”
    “It won’t matter. The only thing that matters is sending Damon Kincaid into hell in a fitting style. I will compose his exit from this earth as I would compose a painting.” Caitlin’s smile was without pity. “Quarrel is the man who can carry out the task for me. He will be my mercenary executioner. He will be the man who makes the punishment fit the crime.”
    “What if he finds out he’s been used?”
    “It won’t matter. Nothing will matter after Kincaid is dead. Ah, Tavi, it’s all working out so beautifully. Kincaid fancies himself a modern-day Borgia. He thinks he has hidden his old lusts well beneath a slick, sophisticated surface, but I know all about them and I can exploit them. Soon he will learn what it is to be the victim. Do you know something, Tavi? That conversation I had with Verity about Renaissance mercenaries was prophetic. Jonas Quarrel is going to play the role of
condottiere
for me.”
    “The most important thing to a
condott
iere
was getting paid.”
    Caitlin laughed. It was a low, harsh sound that made Tavi close her eyes. “He’ll get Verity. That will have to be enough for him.”

 
    Chapter Seven
     
    Verity was in her office going through a pile of receipts when she heard footsteps in the hallway that led to the kitchen. She recognized them instantly.
    “Hello, Dad. Had breakfast?”
    Emerson Ames appeared in the doorway. “In a manner of speaking. Quarrel puts together a mean cup of coffee. Went great with the three-day-old doughnuts he had in the cupboard.”
    Verity made a face. “That man has made no effort to learn anything about