Blow Me Down Read Online Free PDF Page A

enjoying a meaningful relationship with a man right now?”
    “No, not that it’s any of your business. And don’t you come any nearer,” I answered, backing up a couple of paces and leveling my wooden leg at him. “I have a leg, and I’m not afraid to use it!”
    “My sort?” he drawled, interest dawning in those dark eyes as he continued to stroll toward me. “You know my sort ? I am a sort?”
    I backed up a couple of steps more until I bumped into the rough wall of the inn. I could have kicked myself with the fake leg. Everyone knew the thing a charmer loved most was a challenge, and I’d just presented myself as one. Still, he was a virtual lothario, not a real one, so I could handle him. I’d just do a little defusing and be on my way.
    “Yes, you are a sort. You’re a charmer, a man who thinks he can sweet-talk the pants off a nun. Well, I’m immune to your brand of charm, buster. So you can just take your sexy walk and those tight leather pants and the really cool pirate boots of yours—wow, is that a rapier? Very nice. I used to fence in college—and trot off to harass some other unpoxed, tartless non-wench, because I’m not buying any of it.”
    “Unless you belong to the Sisters of Harlotry, you’re not a nun,” he said, stopping just beyond reach of my fake leg. “And you’re not wearing pants.”
    I looked down to protest that I was so wearing pants, but the gauzy wisps of cloth that clung to my body in a very revealing fashion could be termed anything but sensible clothing. They were literally rags, exposing far more of me than I was comfortable with—although, really, what did it matter? These were computer people, not living, breathing human beings. Tara had said no one but the developers and occasional press representatives had access to the beta virtual version.
    “If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” I answered, deciding to go with the flow.
    “You certainly do it well,” the pirate said, giving me a leer that I could swear was almost human. The lascivious way his gaze caressed my scantily clad breasts clearly indicated the origins of a male, rather than female, software developer.
    “Just because I’m flaunting doesn’t mean you can stare for hours on end. A polite ogle is appreciated and suitable for a flaunt. Slobbering is not. Eyes up here,” I said, using the leg’s foot to indicate my face. “Look, Mr. Pirate—”
    “Corbin,” he said, interrupting me before I could get into a really quality lecture.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “My name is Corbin. Captain Corbin, at your service, ma’am.”
    “Hello,” I said politely, wondering whether the program gave out bonus points for adroit handling of a lecher. “I’m . . . er . . . drat, I’ve forgotten. Earless someone. Um . . . Erika! That’s it.”
    Corbin the pirate considered me. “You don’t look like an Erika.”
    “Well, I am.”
    “Is that your real name?”
    “My real name?”
    “Yes, your real name as opposed to your user name. Is Erika your real name?”
    I frowned. Were computer-generated people supposed to be so nosy? “Maybe. Is Corbin your real name?”
    “Yes, it is. What are you doing here?”
    “What is this, twenty questions?” I gave him a quelling glare, but he totally disregarded it.
    “No, just a simple question. Answer it. What are you doing here?”
    He stood just beyond reach of the leg, his hands on his hips, the loose white pirate shirt open to his waist, exposing almost the whole of his six-pack abs and manly chest dusted with golden hair. For some reason it irritated me that his character was nicer to look at than mine. Clearly the game designer had issues.
    “That, sir, is none of your business. Now, kindly take your seductive self off and let me go achieve whatever goal I’m supposed to do to get to the next level. I think it has something to do with collecting prosthetic legs, but I’m not quite sure. Are yours real?”
    He laughed. I gritted my teeth. He even laughed nicer