Kit Black Read Online Free PDF Page B

I’ve a week to get my boots and my sword. If I have to steal them, I will.”
    â€œI’ll be joinin’ the crew of The Black Moon too, then. I’ll not be lettin’ you suffer that fate alone.”
    â€œYou’re too old, Roger,” I called after him angrily as he walked away. “And I don’t need a nursemaid.”
    ***
    I was scrubbing pots for the cook three days later, when Roger came into the kitchen.
    â€œThere’s someone to see you.”
    I stared at him. “Who’d want to see me?”
    â€œYour Frenchman. He has something of yours he wants to give to you.”
    My heart was pounding furiously. “If it’s the shoes I forgot and my bodice, tell him to throw them away.”
    â€œHe’s insistent about seein’ you, Kit. He’s talking about revealing secrets, if you take my meaning.”
    My face flamed. The bastard. The skunk. “Where is he?”
    â€œI left him waiting in the lane. Oh,” Roger grinned. “You just missed the eye.” He went off chuckling heartily. Men.
    I took a deep, shaky breath before I got up the nerve to walk to the back door. He was standing with his wide back to me. I let my eyes trail down his fine form, from the top of his head to his gloriously shiny boots.
    â€œYou wanted to see me?”
    He whirled and smiled at me, seeming amused by my appearance. I wished I were wearing my hat so that I could tug it low over my eyes. I tried not to let it get to me. I was happy to see him in one piece. The only flaw was a cut to his eyebrow. It appeared to be split in two, and had been neatly stitched. There would be little scarring to show for the hardship.
    â€œI’m sorry about your mother,” he said.
    â€œThank you. Is that why you came here?” It was hard not to remember the feel of him as I stood there. The velvet touch of his lips on mine, his soft fragrant hair against my face. Damned if I didn’t want him again. My body was a great betrayer. If I were ever to get anywhere, get away from this beautiful looking man who held my heart prisoner, I would have to be one hell of a lot stronger than I was feeling.
    â€œNo, Kita. I’ve brought you something. And I will not take no for an answer.” He held out a muslin wrapped parcel to me. “Open it.”
    I shook my head, trying not to meet the earnest gleam in his lovely jade eyes. I would most definitely not look at his mouth. That would be my undoing. “I told you I didn’t—”
    â€œOpen it. I insist.”
    I unwrapped the bundle, my heart in my throat. Inside was a pair of shiny new boots. They smelled of leather and bootblack. They were new, custom made, the stitching fine, the leather supple. I knew they had cost him more than the two pieces of gold I had thrown back at him.
    â€œI can’t take them.”
    â€œYes, you can.”
    I shook my head stubbornly. “How did you know my size?” I longed to try them on, to walk in them, to wear something that would actually make my feet feel good for a change, rather than pinched and chaffing. I had never had a pair of new shoes before. And to think he’d gone to the trouble to do it. It overwhelmed me. After I’d been so obnoxious.
    But then, his proposition had been odious and insulting, hadn’t it?
    â€œThere’s no sense telling me to take them back. I had them custom made. I took your slippers in with me and had these made larger. Try them.”
    â€œI’ll try them, but I won’t keep them.”
    I sat on one of the empty crates. I was ashamed of my crude stockings, dirty and full of holes. The boots were perfect. They slipped up over my ankles and calves with the littlest of tugs. There was room for my toes, and the heels didn’t slip. I stood in them and looked at him, eye to eye, mouth to mouth. I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and hug him. And I was finding it terribly hard not to cry, because, no