His Wicked Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page A

the flat of his dagger, he traced the outlines of the land he was to be given at their leader’s behest, but his lips twisted in a cynical half smile.
    A bribe.
    So. They didn’t trust him. He was a little offended but not altogether surprised. His lashes flicked downward as he glanced over the map, but he mentally shrugged off the insult. He did not need their money or their land, but if it put their minds at ease, he could pretend to take the bait. Far be it from Black-Jack Knight, after all, to do anything out of the goodness of his nonexistent heart.
    Besides, there were vast profits to be gained if this brash plot succeeded, opening up the continent to trade.
    For centuries, Spain had had a chokehold over South America , jealously guarding her rich colonies with ironclad monopolies.
    If Bolivar managed to cut South America free of her chains, then the risks that Jack was now taking to come to their aid would ensure that Knight Enterprises would be among the first outside companies to establish favorable trading agreements with the newly independent nations.
    Unfortunately, the colonists hadn’t a prayer of winning this fight unless they received reinforcements—and soon.
    The rebels had plenty of silver. What they lacked was men. Jack, however, based in neighboring Jamaica , knew exactly where to find this commodity in abundant supply, namely, the half-pay heroes of Waterloo .
    Pouring back into England after winning the war against Napoleon, countless thousands of British soldiers were arriving home only to find there was no work for them, no way to feed their families. Throughout England , Scotland , and Ireland , there was a surplus of skilled and battle-hardened warriors, many of whom would be willing to fight as mercenaries in South America , especially since Bolivar’s cause could be called noble, if a man cared for such things.
    There was only one small snag. Parliament had just issued a decree forbidding British soldiers from going and joining the fight. Obviously, Englishmen fighting alongside Venezuelan rebels to divest Spain of her colonies would have raised many an eyebrow in
Madrid
.
    Having just extricated the nation from twenty years of war against France , the last thing the Foreign Office wanted was fresh trouble with the Continental neighbors—this time, Spain .
    But if Jack knew one thing about soldiers—which he did, having a bona fide war-hero amongst his brood of brothers—it was that they were practical men. Loyalty to king and country only went so far; you could take a soldier’s arms and legs and blow his bosom friends to smithereens, but you did not trifle with his family.
    No self-respecting warrior who had helped to thrash the
Grande Armée
was going to stand by and let his children starve, not when he could take up his musket and sword and earn excellent pay in South America .
    All it took was someone with the right connections, high and low, the nerve, the discretion to recruit said mercenaries without attracting the notice of the British government, the ships to bring the two parties together, and the ability to slip a few thousand troops past the Spanish blockade.
    That was where Jack came in, but nobody had to know that he actually cared.
    He looked up from the map, nodded his acceptance of their offering, and took a large swallow of port.
    Montoya’s face flooded with relief. “We have a deal, then? You will bring us men?”
    He let out an appropriately mercenary laugh. “Men?” He slapped Montoya’s shoulder with a wolfish glint in his eyes. “Tell Bolivar that I will bring you devils.”
    Some time later, Jack walked through the darkened guest apartment he’d been assigned for the night, wearily unbuckling his pistol holster and tossing aside his knife belt in turn.
    He pulled off his black jacket and dropped it on the large bed as he sauntered out onto the balcony, feeling restless.
    Resting his hands on the black wrought-iron rail, he stared out over the river, trying