" "Your prisoner!" echoed Jonathan, derisively. You do not need me to remind you of your success at Paris. ‘Do you think because you’ve managed to pull a gun on me—not to mention several daggers and a vicious little knife— that you can get away with it against a man who means business?’ ‘Do you think that the trigger I would not have pulled, or stuck the dagger into you, if you had not been as you are?’ she countered. She was surprised and stared at him when he did not immediately leave the bed as Gianfrancesco always did, but instead rested on his elbows. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling.
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