Read Online One With the Shadows by Susan Squires - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Squires
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a wink with him in the carriage not three feet from her, exuding maleness and making her almost vibrate in sympathy in places she dared not name.
“I thought you would accost me immediately about the bargain between us,” he remarked in that baritone that wound around her spine. “Or question my intent in taking you to Firenze.”
She opened her eyes. So that was where they were headed. Now he would tell her his despicable plan. Best face it head-on. “You hadn’t deigned to tell me our destination,” she pointed out. “I assumed you had rethought your ‘bargain.’” He was just going to take the stone and leave her somewhere on the road. She knew it.
He examined her, then turned abruptly away. “We could not tarry in Rome while Elyta Zaroff made new plans,” he muttered. “Firenze serves two purposes. My mother will lend you her protection and her banker will arrange with mine the transfer you require.”
Kate narrowed her eyes. If he could just take the stone, why wouldn’t he? He must want something else. In her case it could not be that he wanted use of her body. “You could just take it.” She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. “Yet you say you intend to pay me. What else do you want?”
He hesitated. “Do I have to want something?”
Kate racked her brain. Could he want her skills at deception? “People always do.”
“Then perhaps I will surprise you.”
This talk of paying her must be a ruse to keep her quiet on the journey. But why? Why didn’t he just leave her in Rome? Even if he did have a mother in Florence, what mother would accept a light-skirt traveling alone in the company of a bachelor, even if that bachelor were her son? Especially if it were her son? If she didn’t know about his profession, she would have aspirations for his marriage that did not include a penniless fake of no birth. If she did know, she certainly wouldn’t want him to compromise his source of income by associating with a ne’er-do-well. No, Kate was the last thing Urbano’s mother would welcome on her doorstep.
“I see you don’t believe me.” He changed to English from Italian. He spoke with barely an accent and what accent he had was, of course, incredibly attractive. “Perhaps I was mistaken and you have a husband or a father to whom I may deliver you?”
He wanted to remind her of her orphaned state to make her feel powerless. Well, she would just show him how much that mattered to her. “I have neither, and I have never given it a thought. I once traveled with a man I thought was my father. It turns out he was not,” she said with almost complete composure. She kept to the Italian, lest his speaking English was a condescension. He must not think her weak or vulnerable. “He admitted as much to me in one of his drunken rages. He bought me from an orphanage and trained me to use in his schemes. Apparently he also hired thugs to attack me when I was seventeen and leave me with this…” She swallowed. “This scar, so I could not even escape him by entering into a liaison with some gullible but wealthy young man. He died.” She realized she had switched to English. Damn it all, it seemed as though he had won something. “And I am doing just fine without him.”
His eyes widened for a single instant. Then he looked down at his hands. “So you are glad to be rid of him.” He kept to the English.
She’d already let him win, there was no use going back to Italian. “Absolutely,” she said, with only an instant’s hesitation. “I was the talent of the operation.”
“It must be … hard, with no one to care about you,” he said, after a moment.
He pitied her? Anger rose in her belly. She couldn’t bear it if he pitied her. So she shrugged. “My real parents abandoned me when I was six. I made my way on the streets of London, so I am quite used to it.”
“At six?” he asked, his brows drawing together.
“Oh, I found a place. A rather nefarious character
“I thought you would accost me immediately about the bargain between us,” he remarked in that baritone that wound around her spine. “Or question my intent in taking you to Firenze.”
She opened her eyes. So that was where they were headed. Now he would tell her his despicable plan. Best face it head-on. “You hadn’t deigned to tell me our destination,” she pointed out. “I assumed you had rethought your ‘bargain.’” He was just going to take the stone and leave her somewhere on the road. She knew it.
He examined her, then turned abruptly away. “We could not tarry in Rome while Elyta Zaroff made new plans,” he muttered. “Firenze serves two purposes. My mother will lend you her protection and her banker will arrange with mine the transfer you require.”
Kate narrowed her eyes. If he could just take the stone, why wouldn’t he? He must want something else. In her case it could not be that he wanted use of her body. “You could just take it.” She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. “Yet you say you intend to pay me. What else do you want?”
He hesitated. “Do I have to want something?”
Kate racked her brain. Could he want her skills at deception? “People always do.”
“Then perhaps I will surprise you.”
This talk of paying her must be a ruse to keep her quiet on the journey. But why? Why didn’t he just leave her in Rome? Even if he did have a mother in Florence, what mother would accept a light-skirt traveling alone in the company of a bachelor, even if that bachelor were her son? Especially if it were her son? If she didn’t know about his profession, she would have aspirations for his marriage that did not include a penniless fake of no birth. If she did know, she certainly wouldn’t want him to compromise his source of income by associating with a ne’er-do-well. No, Kate was the last thing Urbano’s mother would welcome on her doorstep.
“I see you don’t believe me.” He changed to English from Italian. He spoke with barely an accent and what accent he had was, of course, incredibly attractive. “Perhaps I was mistaken and you have a husband or a father to whom I may deliver you?”
He wanted to remind her of her orphaned state to make her feel powerless. Well, she would just show him how much that mattered to her. “I have neither, and I have never given it a thought. I once traveled with a man I thought was my father. It turns out he was not,” she said with almost complete composure. She kept to the Italian, lest his speaking English was a condescension. He must not think her weak or vulnerable. “He admitted as much to me in one of his drunken rages. He bought me from an orphanage and trained me to use in his schemes. Apparently he also hired thugs to attack me when I was seventeen and leave me with this…” She swallowed. “This scar, so I could not even escape him by entering into a liaison with some gullible but wealthy young man. He died.” She realized she had switched to English. Damn it all, it seemed as though he had won something. “And I am doing just fine without him.”
His eyes widened for a single instant. Then he looked down at his hands. “So you are glad to be rid of him.” He kept to the English.
She’d already let him win, there was no use going back to Italian. “Absolutely,” she said, with only an instant’s hesitation. “I was the talent of the operation.”
“It must be … hard, with no one to care about you,” he said, after a moment.
He pitied her? Anger rose in her belly. She couldn’t bear it if he pitied her. So she shrugged. “My real parents abandoned me when I was six. I made my way on the streets of London, so I am quite used to it.”
“At six?” he asked, his brows drawing together.
“Oh, I found a place. A rather nefarious character
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