"K. D. Wentworth - Blade Runner" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wentworth K D)

mud-encrusted boot up on the table. My mail clinked merrily. "Yeah?"

The blade cleared his throat and tugged an elaborately embroidered red and green sleev
just a fraction straighter. His mouth was wide and generous, the sort our girls down at the
castle might even call voluptuous. "I've been asking a few questions of the other patrons of
fine establishment, and everyone says you two ladies really know your way around."

"You bet your little pink toes we do!" Gerta slapped the table and cackled heartily.

He gave her a pained smile, then met my gaze with guileless brown eyes. "I need to get i
the castle."

"You and every other blade for a hundred miles, sonny boy," I said.

He blushed, which was a nice trick. Even seasoned philanderers can rarely manage that.
"No, no, you have it all wrong," he said and leaned closer across the table, his face sincere
"This is a truly noble cause, one well worth fighting for."

I laced my fingers across my sword belt. "Yeah, that's what they all say."

"Show us the color of your gold!" Gerta said too loudly. The noise level in the One-Han
Virgin dropped precipitously as everyone turned to stare.

"Shut-up!" I said to her under my breath, then shot out my hand to stop the blade from
untying his purse. I gripped his wrist with my sword hand hard enough to hurt. "Not here, yo
idiot!"

His skin was warm beneath my fingers, the black body hairs nice and springy, and for a
moment I forgot to let go. He looked away, blushing again, and I found myself charmed. I
released his wrist. "Sorry."

Gerta shoved back her chair and it fell over with a crack. "Out-side!" she said merrily a
staggered toward the door. I retrieved Esmeralda, and threw a handful of coppers down for
drinks.

Barth scooped them up and gave me a smoldering, regretful look. I pinched his downy ch
with my free hand. "Later, you little devil."
 Outside, the sun was just setting and the air was cool enough to help clear my head. Our
potential client was glancing nervously back at the One-Handed Virgin, his dark brows kni
together in a most appealing way. Wondering if he had to practice that, or it just came
naturally, I took his arm and hustled him down the street. "So where's the fire, sweetcakes?

He looked up at me and cleared his throat. "My name is Reginaldo and I am an old-well
acquaintance of the queen."

Gerta, who was in the process of buckling on her scabbard, stopped to poke him in the r
with her elbow. "Did you and her Royal Highness get it on in Damery before she married o
Good King Bentley? I hear she was a real speed-ball in her younger days!"

He raised his chin. "Do not speak of her so. She is the most beautiful woman in all the