Chapter Twenty-Seven

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            Ginelle felt a scream wedge tight in her throat as she scrambled to escape the carriage. Just as she reached for the door, rough fingers seized her arm, jarring her backward as the carriage propelled forward, accelerating her terror tenfold.

            Gasping to bring air into her lungs, she hastened to put space between her and the sum of all her fears regarded her through cold, black eyes.

            “Pierino…” his name escaped her throat on a horrified gasp, her limbs tensing for the unexpected as his thin mouth twisted cruelly into a grin.

            Her eyes slanted fearfully towards the door, her body stiffening with anticipation.

            “I don’t think it wise to provoke me, kitten.” Pierino’s guttural voice growled, his eyes glinting sharply in the small compartment of the carriage.

            Her heart leapt against her breast, her mouth suddenly dry as her mind hastened to think logically past her fear. “I have not forgotten our last encounter.” He said harshly, “Ye seem to forget that I am yer guardian.”

            Despite her fear, Ginelle felt an immediate rush of anger. “I forget nothing.” She exclaimed, “You took advantage of a helpless child, you are scum!”

            Pierino’s eyes glinted suddenly with surprise, “I do not approve of yer newfound bravery, girl, and I tire of it already. What has prompted such a change in ye, eh?”

            Her stomach rolled with revulsion as his black eyes assessed her from head to toe. “Ye no longer fear me?” a black brow arched curiously, his eyes twinkling maliciously in the dim light of the carriage. “Mayhap I should test yer bravado, if I remember; ye fought me like a wildcat the last time.”

            She paled beneath his black gaze, her blood rushing with a sudden, gripping fear for her unborn child. She lifted her chin, her eyes flashing defiantly. “I will fight you tooth and nail if you touch me.”

            He laughed the sound rolling precariously from his throat like venom. “Methinks ye speak with a pretense tongue, girl.”

            Her hands trembled in her lap and she prayed he did not see her fear lingering just beneath the surface as she straightened her spine and met his onward stare. “I’m not a child anymore. I am no longer afraid of you.”

            There was a moment of stillness, just the slight rocking of the carriage and Ginelle tensed, expecting the blow. It came so suddenly, rocking her backward with enough force to wrench a cry from her throat.

            Instinctively one hand rushed to her inflamed cheek, her eyes clouding with tears as her other hand moved to her swollen belly, terrified that another blow would be struck to her midriff.

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