Falling for the Pirate Read Online Free Page A

last night.
    “What did you answer?” she asked.
    A glimmer of humor shone from his eyes before they went black again. Black like his hair. Black like the sea. He smiled, and the smile was black, too—with irony and annoyance. “I didn’t,” he said. “I’m not in the habit of explaining myself to thieves.”
    His hair was distracting her, the way it fell into his face. And the way he didn’t make a move to tie it back. Not completely black either, she realized. Ebony and coffee and auburn strands formed a single shining surface, like water in the dark, silky and mysterious, and the creamy firelight did nothing to dispel the illusion. Which was why several seconds passed before she registered his words. His accusation.
    “I’m not a thief,” she said, affronted.
    “No? Then what were you doing at Hargate Shipping?”
    She opened her mouth to answer him…before realizing she had no answer. She had no idea what she’d been doing at such a place. All she knew was that she did not steal. She had no desire to take what wasn’t hers, no immoral greed driving her.
    But then memories surfaced…of fine things, luxurious things. Expensive things. Unease settled in her gut. What if she was a thief?
    He smiled grimly at her silence. “Can’t remember? Or you have a good excuse, I’m sure. I’ve heard them all before. Every thief has a line at the ready, so where is yours?”
    She’d forgotten it. Along with everything else, it seemed, including her amoral life.
    “I’m not a thief,” she said more quietly. Less sure.
    “Then again, you did feed me some fake information. Julian, you said your name was. Unusual for a girl, don’t you think?”
    She had no answer.
    He plucked a thin stack of clothing from the table beside him. They unfolded to reveal a tattered shirt and pants. A blackened cap. “These have spent a lot of time going in and out of chimneys. And I highly doubt you were satisfied with the two pence earned as a sweep. Besides, no apprentice would employ a young woman, not when he could get a boy from the orphanage at half the cost and half the size.”
    She stared at the clothes, her mouth dry. Why would she have worn pants? And climbed through chimneys? It didn’t make sense.
    Unless he was telling the truth. And she was a thief.
    “I don’t know,” she said. Then repeated, bearing the grief of her confusion, “ I don’t know .”
    “This will go easier if you tell me who you work for. I know you didn’t hatch the plot to steal from the company yourself. No, if you were on your own, I wager you would have chosen a private home, one with jewels and money you could grab. Not shipping schedules and invoices.”
    A surge of terror ran through her. It had been disconcerting to wake up without knowing who she was. But the fear was worse, more real, to find she might not like who she was. God, what would she do? Continue stealing? Starve?
    Turn herself in?
    Her hand went to her chest, right beneath her throat. Her fingers toyed there, grasping at nothing. She realized for the first time that she was wearing a nightgown, a thin one. It wasn’t hers, though it fit her well enough. Still, the neck dipped low to her breasts, revealing her bare skin to him. No more than an evening gown would do, but far more than she was comfortable with.
    His gaze snapped to her hand. Those midnight eyes grew darker, deeper. The heat in them felt entirely male. Inappropriate, that was what it was. Insulting even. Except… had she drawn his attention on purpose? What had her hand been doing at her neckline? It was disconcerting to realize she couldn’t even trust her own body. Maybe she’d been teasing him, drawing his gaze where it shouldn’t be, as a distraction. If she was a liar and a thief, if she regularly dressed in a boy’s clothes, if she consorted with pirates enough to find them familiar—and appealing—then it wasn’t a far stretch to imagine she had relations with them, as well.
    No.
    But the facts