Outlaw Carson Read Online Free Page A

in his direction. “Have a doughnut,
please. I’ll be back in a moment.”
    She didn’t exactly flee into her office, but
neither did she dawdle on the short trip across the living
room.
    Kit leaned on the counter and helped himself
to a doughnut, watching Kristine until she disappeared, enjoying
the quick sway of her hips beneath the white cotton robe and the
determined set of her shoulders. She wasn’t what he’d expected or
initially hoped for, but she would do. She would more than do.
    For fair measure, he tripled the price of
his treasures. Shepard and Stein had failed on all counts,
especially in the destination of his trunks. Harry Fratz,
frightened fool that he was, had made the university’s position on
contraband quite clear. They didn’t want anything to do with his
more questionable activities, no matter how nobly motivated. His
partners should have accepted the trunks he’d shipped from Nepal
and trusted him to obtain the documentation necessary to soothe
their collective legal conscience. His unorthodox means of
delivering the Tibetan antiquities had obviously scared them off,
but he’d thought Shepard at least was made of sterner stuff. He’d
thought her convictions were strong enough to weather a small storm
of Chinese anger and empty threats. He’d been wrong, and she’d
unloaded the trunks on this unsuspecting university professor.
    He didn’t bother to waste anger on any of
them. He’d known the probable outcome of his last mission long
before he’d crossed the border into Tibet. The Turk, the damnedest
brigand of the plateau, wanted a second chance to sink his knife
into his heart; the Chinese had posted his name and face at every
guard station; and the Nepalis had kicked him out of the land of
his birth. He could not go back, not legally, not yet.
    He’d weighed the risks and found them worth
taking, and only regretted that Kristine Richards hadn’t had the
same opportunity. But due to her ignorance in accepting the trunks
his partners and the university had sent her way, or Shepard’s and
Stein’s cowardice, or even the winds of Fate, she’d become his
responsibility. What he’d felt in her kiss made him lean heavily
toward Fate. He’d spent too many years of his youth under the yoke
of Buddhist monks to mistrust his instincts, and his instincts were
still mildly and pleasantly aroused. He’d been too long without a
woman not to enjoy this one in whatever capacity she allowed.
    All in all, he had no complaints with the
turn of events and no doubts about his ability to protect Kristine
until his business was finished. Maybe he would quadruple the
price—for the price was his to set—and give her a portion of the
rewards. She had surely taken on part of the risks.
    Picking up another doughnut, he pushed away
from the counter and strode over to his trunks. He knelt by each
one and methodically checked the padlocks, holding the doughnut
between his teeth. The heavy locks were secure. She hadn’t given
him reason to question her honesty, but the trunks had passed
through many hands before falling into hers.
    He bit off a hunk of the sweet and ran a
gentle hand over one of the trunks, smiling slightly as he chewed.
He had found the legendary monastery Chatren-Ma, and the
K
ā
h-gyur—
the Buddhist Scripture—of the
last great khan, Kublai. His smile broadened into a grin. Or at
least he’d found as much of it as had been in the monastery, about
one-fifth of one volume of the whole one-hundred-volume set. Still,
it was more than anyone else had ever been able to get their hands
on, and it guaranteed him a full belly for as long as his days in
this life lasted.
    In her office, Kristine hung onto the phone,
listening intently to the muffled voices on the other end of the
line. She’d started at the bottom of her list with Harry, but her
eavesdropping didn’t bode well.
    “Dr. Richards?” Harry’s wife came back on
the line. “I’m sorry, but Harry has had a bit of a relapse and