Free The Pirate's Debt (The Regent's Revenge Book 2) by Katherine Bone Page B

the strength his touch offered. How could she have forgotten about the ship offshore? Her swift actions could very well save them because the ship Markwick had set ablaze might even now be underway!
    Hysteria strangled the back of her throat. She fought to keep from searching the distance. She tried without fail to inhale air into her lungs. Could fate be this unkind?
    “I am ready.” She bent over, bunching the fabric dangling behind her legs in her hands, pulling her skirts forward and up, simulating trousers of sorts. The same way she and Pru had fashioned their skirts when they rose astride.
    When the Regent grimaced and the men around her tipped their heads back in mocking laughter, she offered this excuse. “A lady never takes chances.”
    “If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here,” Markwick said, reaching for her hand.
    She ignored his sarcastic remark and placed her hand in his.
    He raised her arms and she complied, allowing him to tie a rope around her waist, cinching her skirts, forming a makeshift belt. As he did so, his face came intimately close. He kept his eyes downcast, focusing on his work. And for this she was grateful. The warmth of his breath stirred her in strange wanton places, coiling in her belly, making her ache, yearn to draw him closer and burrow into him for warmth. How much more affected would she be if he actually looked into her eyes or leaned in for a kiss?
    Chastising herself for holding on to hope that Markwick had chased after her instead of the other way around, Chloe released a sigh. The Black Regent—Markwick—had been known to save countless men, women, and children in his legendary career.
    “Do you do this often?” she asked breathlessly.
    “No,” he answered, his tone flat.
    “But that isn’t true! Trewman’s Exeter Flying —”
    “Do not believe everything you read. Now prepare to board my ship.”
    She would do anything he asked of her. Markwick had always been her lead light. But here he went too far. Books were her mainstay!
    “Much can be gleaned from reading,” she said, clutching her satchel close to her chest as she stepped onto the gunwale.
    “Give that to me,” he said, stretching out his hand, waiting for her to respond. “Get your head out of the clouds. Lives are at stake.”
    Why was he angry? Did he plan to toss her little darling overboard?
    “Swear you will carry my book, not throw it into the water.”
    Men began to cackle behind her, and Markwick’s irritation mounted.
    “Swear,” she repeated, shivering where she stood, refusing to budge.
    “I swear to treat your prize like my treasure,” he gritted out.
    Chloe sighed with relief. Markwick had never lied to her before. But maybe he was . . . He was the Black Regent, though she couldn’t explain how. He’d been deceiving her and everyone else for some time.
    Warily, she relinquished her bundle and accepted Markwick’s hand.
    The Regent’s hand, because that’s how I must think of him from this moment on.
    He’d saved her life. She owed him her loyalty. At least until she learned the truth.
    When they finally touched, an energized charge shot all the way into the pit of Chloe’s belly. Daring a hint of a smile, she took the final step that would enable him to help her mount the battens.
    “The book.” The request seemed silly even to her, but she continued.
    Markwick glanced down at the bundle in his hand as if it had momentarily been forgotten. He cinched the bag, looped rope around it, tied the ends off, and then strapped the satchel across his chest, exactly as Quinn had done. “Satisfied?”
    I am now. Trusting he would keep Otranto safe, she grabbed onto the ropes and placed her foot in the first rung of the ladder against the hull. Anticipation thrummed inside her as she began to climb—stepping up, grabbing hold, stepping up, grabbing hold—making her way onto the very ship of her fantasies.
    Every now and again, when her footing and grip were sound, she cast a sly