Read Online Heart of Honor by Kat Martin - Free Book Online Page A

man a glance. “He has to learn to accept the way things are here.”
    Leif grunted as if he knew what she had said.
    Krista ignored him, just settled back against the seat and stared out the window, silently suffering the jounce of an occasional pothole as the carriage made its way through the heavy London traffic. Still, she could sense him there in the carriage. She seemed to be attuned to his every movement, seemed to feel the heat of his eyes as they roamed over her. She had never been so aware of a man before. She found it strangely unnerving.
     
    They reached her father’s favorite tailor’s shop, Stephen Ward and Company on Regent Street, and made their way inside the building. Mr. Ward had earlier been sent a note informing him of their arrival, and he appeared at the front counter himself.
    “Welcome, Sir Paxton…Miss Hart. As always it is our pleasure to serve you.” He was a small man, with black hair parted in the middle and a thin mustache. Only the faintest lift of a single black eyebrow betrayed his surprise at the sight of Leif’s tall figure in his too-small clothes.
    “This is Mr. Draugr, a friend of ours from Norway,” her father smoothly explained. “His baggage was stolen when he arrived at the dock, and as you can see, he is in dire need of a wardrobe.”
    “Yes…I do see that, indeed.” The man turned, clapped his hands, and two of his young male apprentices, one tall and gangly with very pale skin, the other shorter, with sandy hair and blue eyes, appeared in the receiving room.
    “I believe we have quite a job ahead of us,” the tailor said to them. He turned, smiled at the professor. “Have no fear, Sir Paxton. Stephen Ward is up to the job.”
    He guided the group through a curtain that led into the luxuriously furnished back room of the establishment, and pointed toward a dais at one end. “If Mr. Draugr will step up on the platform, we will get started with the necessary measurements.”
    Leif looked at the professor, who translated Mr. Ward’s wishes, then climbed up on the dais.
    Stephen Ward approached the platform, pausing for a moment to inspect Leif’s impressive, broad-shouldered frame. “My, he is quite a specimen.” There was blatant appreciation in the man’s dark eyes.
    Krista allowed herself the same inspection and couldn’t say she blamed him. In the vee at the front of Leif’s full-sleeved shirt, muscles bunched every time he moved. His waist was narrow, his abdomen flat, his legs long and muscular. For an instant, her glance strayed to the heavy bulge at the front of his too-tight breeches before she jerked her eyes back to his face.
    A corner of Leif’s mouth faintly curved. “If you wish these new clothes to fit, lady, you should not stare at that particular place.”
    Her face flamed. Sweet God, the way he spoke to her! At one-and-twenty, Krista had heard enough women’s gossip to be aware of a man’s anatomy. She knew that as big as he was, and from what the tight-fitting trousers revealed, Leif Draugr must be very well endowed. The married women would titter about it. Krista tried not to imagine what the man’s very large masculinity would mean to a woman, but her mind strayed there anyway.
    Worst of all, Leif seemed to sense her interest, even approve.
    “It is good for a woman to know what pleases her.”
    Silently, she ground her teeth, biting back the rude remark that lingered on the tip of her tongue. She squared her shoulders. “Time is running short,” she said to Mr. Ward. “Shall we get on with it? I have a good deal to do back at my place of business.”
    “Of course,” said Stephen Ward. “Just let me take a few quick measurements and then we will decide on what styles might suit your friend. From there we can choose the fabric and colors that will be best for him. Once we are finished, you can take him next door to Menkin’s Millinery for whatever hats he may need, then down the block to Beasley and Hewitt for boots and