This Perfect Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page B

Camden’s leather trunk.
    His leg was so stiff that he could barely bend it to sit on the berth. His knees bumped the stove, but he welcomed the heat.
    â€œI can see from here that leg’s all swelled up,” Red Harry said. “Let me take a look.”
    â€œHave mercy on me and bring me hot coffee.”
    The old steward shut the door. He had already made a pot of coffee and forced Camden to stand to accommodate his presence as he squeezed next to the washbasin, where he set the tray.
    â€œThat girl has come a long way,” Red Harry said. “You ought be more patient with her. She is no’ as strong as she seems.”
    â€œThat girl survived Yorktown.”
    â€œSo did you, my lord.”
    Camden yanked at his stock. “Duly chastised, Harry. As the oldest of the crew and more trustworthy than my own grandfather, you are tasked with her care. Make sure she eats a hearty meal. The galley will most probably be out of service once we enter the channel.” He removed his jacket and ducked to look out the porthole. “Someone will also need to take that hound of hers to the hold. There is straw in the livestock stalls for his needs.”
    He scrubbed frost off the window. Outside, a forest of masts sporting flags from several nations bobbed above a crowded watery surface and stood against a London skyline of tall brick buildings and chimneys billowing clouds of black smoke. The scene held little interest beyond a cursory glance to reassure him that his ship was leaving the quay. The voyage around the southern tip of England past Falmouth, then north into the Firth of Clyde, would last four, maybe five, days. By land with winter encroaching, the journey to Ayrshire would have lasted six weeks.
    He could survive four or five days in close quarters with Christel.
    Absently rubbing his thigh, he turned away from the porthole. Harry squeezed past him to the cupboard, forcing Camden to stand. Finding himself trapped against the bunk, the top of his head touching the ceiling and his shoulders pressing against the upper berth, he eyed his steward narrowly.
    â€œYe can toss me overboard if ye wish later,” Red Harry said. “But right now ye will be lettin’ me tend to that leg.”
    Red Harry removed a tin and, slapping a towel around his neck like a drover snapping a whip, turned. “Down with yer breeches and on your side, my lord.”
    â€œDammit, Harry.”
    But the old hunched-over wolf stared Camden down as if he’d been a contrary pup. After a moment, Camden’s hands fell to his waist and the next thing he knew, he was peeling down his breeches in the most humbling, humiliating way possible. He sat on the berth, accepting a flask of whiskey from his gaoler.
    â€œYou do understand you are the only man I would ever allow to torture me in this way.”
    The man’s gnarled fingers kneaded foul-smelling balm into the swollen area around the ugly red scar just below Camden’s hip. The scar stretched to his knee. “I have known wee babes who take better care of themselves,” Red Harry muttered unpleasantly.
    â€œIs that a tone of hostility I am hearing?”
    â€œWhen ye be old and crippled like me you’ll be wishin’ you’d listened to me more, my lord. Ye should have stayed at Blackthorn Castle to begin with, where ye belong, my lord.”
    Tipping the flask, Camden let the warm liquid slide down his throat. “I should have listened when you thought moving to Naples would be a good idea.”
    â€œI never thought ’twould be a good idea. I only said any place would be warmer than England. I do no’ fancy ye goin’ anywhere but back to Blackthorn Castle.” Red Harry wiped the oil from his hands on a towel and slapped it around his neck. “No one ever believed ye would walk away and leave the place to your blackguard brother.”
    â€œI do not intend to remain longer at Blackthorn Castle than I