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He shook his head.
“You are really quite stupid, Giacomo. My friend Khar El-Din does not mind stupid men, so long as they are no longer men.”
The earl gazed down pointedly at Giacomo’s penis.
“Perhaps the pirate would appreciate another eunuch for his harem. You would grow fat and lazy, Giacomo, but could feast your eyes for the rest of your days upon beautiful women. Of course your pleasure would have to be in contemplation, for there would be nothing between your legs. If you live, that is.”
The stiletto flashed out and Giacomo screamed. A thin red line appeared across his belly, and blood slowly trickled from it.
“Prepare yourself, my friend. I don’t want you to die. I want you to always remember your punishment for raping another man’s woman.”
The stiletto rose slowly. Giacomo’s mind snapped. He screamed uncontrollably and tore himself free of the two men holding him. He clawed at the pistol Francesco held and bore it down to his chest.
A loud explosion tore through the room, its sound reverberating off the oak-paneled walls. There was a ghastly look of surprise on Giacomo’s face, and he slumped backward, his chest torn open.
Scargill fell to his knees beside Giacomo. “He is dead, my lord.”
The earl slowly laid the stiletto upon the desk and straightened. He gazed impassively at the gaping wound and stepped over Giacomo’s body.
“It is a pity,” he said. He added over his shoulder as he walked from the room, “Do remove the scum. Even in death he offends me.”
Chapter 19
Fingers were digging into her, rough fingers with jagged fingernails that tore her flesh. She screamed and struggled to free herself of their hold. She sobbed helplessly as her legs were wrenched apart.
“Cassie! Love, wake up.”
The earl was shaking her, pulling her from the horror, but she couldn’t seem to stop the wrenching sobs that tore from her throat. Her nightgown clung to her, damp with sweat, yet she trembled uncontrollably.
His strong arms closed around her, and she felt the warmth of his breath against her cheek. Cassie pressed her face into his shoulder, waiting for the terror to loose its grip on her.
“The nightmare again?” he asked gently. He held her close as she drew a shuddering breath.
“Yes.”
The earl smoothed her tangled hair back from her forehead and eased her onto her back, careful of her bruised ribs. Her eyes were huge and dark in the dim light of dawn.
“It’s over, Cassandra, and you are safe, I promise you.” He balanced himself on his elbow and looked closely into her face. “Are you in pain?”
“Please make it stop,” she whispered. “I cannot bear it. It is so real—”
He stroked her cheek. “I know. I cannot make it stop, Cassandra, but I think if you talk to me about it, it may help you to forget.”
She gazed up at him uncertainly. His dark eyes were tender, but she looked away from him.
“Can you not tell me about it?”
She shook her head. The pain in her body was almost welcome to her, for it focused her mind on the present.
The earl did not press her. It had been two days since her rape, but the nightmare kept taking her back to it.
“Would you like some laudanum, cara?” At least, he thought, she allowed him to care for her body.
“No, I do not want to be drugged anymore.”
He nodded, and lightly kissed her forehead.
“I don’t want your pity.” Oh God, she hated herself and him for her pain. She felt she could not tell him, for he would withdraw from her in disgust, just as she withdrew from herself.
