Captain Jack's Woman by Stephanie Laurens Read Free Book Online Page B

a far too feminine gesture. “This is better than that other stuff you ran. What’s the price?”
    The other men sat in the cave entrance, chewing baccy and talking quietly, while she and Noah reviewed their plans.
    What warned her, she never knew. The hairs on her nape lifted. The next instant, she whirled, her rapier singing from its sheath, sweeping in an arc before the three men silently approaching.
    What happened next made her blink. The foremost man—tall, well built, and hatless was her first impression—took one step back and her rapier clashed against solid steel. Kit’s eyes grew round. She swallowed a knot of cold fear at the sight of her elegant blade countered by a longer, infinitely more wicked-looking sword. The two men following the first drew back, leaving a wide area to the fighters.
    Heavens! She was involved in a sword fight!
    Resolutely, Kit quelled the impulse to drop her rapier and flee. Drawing a deep breath, she forced her mind to function. If this man was a smuggler, he’d have no knowledge of the finer points of swordsmanship. She, on the other hand, had been trained by an Italian master, a close friend of Spencer’s. She hadn’t practiced for years but, as her opponent drifted left, she instinctively drifted right, the blades hissing softly.
    He made the first move, a tentative prod Kit easily pushed aside. She followed immediately with a classic counter, and was dismayed to meet the prescribed defense, perfectly executed. Two more similar exchanges sent her heart to her boots. The man could fight and fight well. The strength she sensed behind the long sword was frightening.
    In growing panic, she glanced at her opponent’s face. The moon shone over her shoulder, leaving her own face in shadow. Even in the weak light, she saw the frown on the handsome face watching her. A second later, the effect of that face hit her. Kit blinked and dragged her mind and her gaze back to her blade, poised against that other. But her disobedient eyes flicked upward again, drawn by that face. She sucked in a painful breath. God, he is beautiful. Sculpted features, aquiline planes below high cheekbones, lips long and firm above a stubbornly square chin. His hair was fairish, streaked silver in the moonlight. Despite her every effort, Kit’s senses refused to bend to her will, irresponsibly continuing their dangerous detachment, roaming over the outline of the large body facing hers.
    An odd sensation bloomed in Kit’s midsection, a warm weakness that sapped what little strength she had. She wondered whether it was fear of impending death. At the thought, from deep inside, she heard a laugh, a warm, rich, seductive laugh. What are you waiting for? You’ve been fantasizing about meeting a man who could do to you what George does to Amy—here he is. All you have to do is put down your rapier and step forward.
    Kit’s guard wavered—she came to herself with a sickening start. In that instant, her opponent launched an attack. Her blade had nowhere near enough strength to counter the sword effectively. By dint of sheer luck and fancy footwork, she survived the first rush, her heart pounding horribly, a metallic taste in her mouth. She knew she’d never survive the second.
    So much for my dream come true, she sneered at her inner self. The man’s about to skewer me, no thanks to you.
    But the clash she feared never came. Her opponent took a decisive step back, just one, but it was enough to get him out of her reach. His sword was slowly lowered until it pointed at the ground.
    Glancing up at that distracting face, Kit saw his frown deepen.
    Jack’s mind was reeling, overloaded by conflicting and confusing information. Champion had led them unerringly in the wake of the black mare. As soon as they saw the jumble of jagged rocks on the horizon, they’d recognized their destination. Respect for the smaller gang grew—the quarries were a perfect hideaway, made to order. They’d left their horses at the edge