Careful not to let the heels of his boots make noise in the hallway, he headed for the living room.
She pulled her boots off and waded into the cool water.
He shucked his boots and waded into the water.
She lifted her head slowly, her gaze starting at his square-toed boots and running up the indigo jeans that flattered his lean build.
In his large study, the walls of which were hung to the ceiling with Persian rugs, bearskins, and weapons, sat Dolokhov in a traveling cloak and high boots, at an open desk on which lay an abacus and some bundles of paper money.