Page 54 of Surrender

“God help me, no wonder you have Theo in knots. I’ll take you home myself since you refuse to be alone in the man’s company.” Vincent’s angry reply made Genevieve flinch.

“No, Lady Noakes is here, and I—”

“Lady Noakes and I are none of your concern. And if you think I’m going to give Warrington the chance to get you alone, you’ve lost your mind,” Vincent snapped. “Not to mention Theo and the others would kill me if I let you go home alone.”

Genevieve winced at this harsh chastisement and under her brother’s harsh glare, she gave way and nodded her acquiescence. At her silent acceptance, Vincent leaned forward and kissed her forehead. When he stepped back, the relief on his face made Genevieve’s mouth curve into a small smile. Vincent shook his head in exasperation, but a twinkle sparkled in his usually serious, dark-eyed gaze.

“I think I will need to write this moment down. I have no memory of you ever complying with an order without uttering one word of protest.”

“That’s because I’m tired, and I just want to go home and crawl into bed.”

Genevieve signed her reply in a lethargic motion before pressing her fingers to her forehead. Vincent studied her closely as if trying to ascertain something before he nodded, and without another word, ushered her out of the small library.

§ § §

A week later, Genevieve was sitting in Simpson’s lap, one arm around his neck as she caught sight of Theo entering the Fox and Hound. An acrimonious oath escaped Freddie, and she arched her eyebrow at him before kissing his cheek, barely escaping his lips as he quickly turned his head.

“What’s wrong, duckie?”

“I saw you looking at that bastard just now.”

“I saw the door open, love. It ain’t me looking at the man, dearie. It just ‘append to be Saltkill who came into the pub. It could ‘ave been anyone.”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Ginny.”

“So, let ‘I’m look.”

“Have you parted your legs for him?”

Stunned by Simpson’s question, Genevieve’s mouth fell open as she stared at the man in amazement. How could the man possibly know that? Had she done something to make him suspicious? Of course she had, the night Theo had almost bedded her in one of the rooms on the pub’s upper floor.

Word of Theo’s offer had circulated with greater speed than she’d hoped, and she’d had far too many offers since then. But she hadn’t been aware Simpson knew about what had happened before he arrived the last time she’d seen the man. The moment her mark’s eyes narrowed with assessment, she saw a flash of anger in his gaze.

“How much?”

“How much?” She repeated his statement with a sinking heart.

“Don’t toy with me, Ginny,” he snarled, his face shifting into the one he reserved for people who’d angered him. People who disappeared. “How much did the man pay you to bury himself between these lush thighs?”

For the first time ever, Simpson’s hand bunched up her skirt and slid his hand underneath the material to clutch one thigh in a painful grip. The moment his hand slid further upward, Genevieve grabbed his hand and tried to force it off her leg. The dark past rose up and blinded her to everything except the need to escape. Desperately, she tried to slide away from Simpson, terror making her fight hard to free herself from the man’s powerful grip. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Theo striding toward them, and when he reached them, his hands slapped down on the table in front of her and Simpson.

“Let her go, you fucking son-of-a-bitch,” the icy command made Simpson’s grip on her slacken, and Genevieve was off his lap in a blink of an eye.

“I don’t recall inviting you to our table, Saltkill. The woman is mine for the moment. Just because you’ve dunked your wick into the whore doesn’t mean you can interrupt our fun.”

In a split-second, Theo reached across the table to grab Simpson by his jacket and pulled him up out of his chair. Genevieve gasped at his violent action, then released a soft moan of horror as a switchblade appeared out of nowhere to press against Theo’s neck.

“Freddie, no, dearie. Ye mustn’t. I couldn’t bear the thought of ye going to prison.”

“Really, dearie?” Simpson said with cold sarcasm, not taking his eyes off Theo, who was still holding onto the other man’s jacket. “You allowed this man to fuck you, but refuse me.”

“I…please Freddie, I—”

“You don’t have enough coin to fuck her, Simpson,” Theo sneered.

“I think I’ve enough to pay for any whore I want.”

“A thousand pounds?” Theo’s icy words made the switchblade drop away from Theo’s neck as Simpson turned the knife in Genevieve’s direction with a stunned look on his face. Freddie’s surprise vanished a second later, his eyes narrowing at Genevieve.