A Risk Worth Taking by Laura Landon Read Free Book Online

across the narrow cobblestoned street. Needed to get as far away as he could from Waterman’s and the conversation he’d heard between Lord Sheridan and the new Marquess of Brentwood.
    “Stop, Griff!” Adam called from behind him.
    Griff spun around. He lost his balance and slammed into a pair of horses pulling a carriage down the street.
    The piercing screams from the panicked horses shattered the silence around him as he flew through the air. He landed on the ground with the air knocked out of his body. A sharp pain grabbed at his ribs and another shot through his head.
    The last thing he saw before the world around him went black was the concerned expression on Adam’s face.
    As darkness consumed him he recognized the only emotion that was strong enough to overshadow the pain—that of regret.
    Regret because he hadn’t been hurt severely enough to die.

Chapter 5

    G riff opened one eye at a time, then slowly closed each one. Last night must have been worse than usual. He hurt like hell this morning. Or afternoon. He wasn’t quite sure which. Thankfully, the drapes were still shut and he didn’t have to face the blinding sun.
    He opened his eyes a slit and tried to move his head. The pain was too intense and he quickly closed them.
    He needed a drink. With his eyes closed, he reached out his hand to the table beside the bed. His hand came back empty. Where the hell was the bottle he always kept there?
    He attempted to open his eyes again, then slowly turned his head. A sharp pain pounded at his temples, causing him to groan. He squeezed his eyes shut and swore a vicious oath, then lay in the comfort of the soft bed without moving. He felt like hell. Like someone had hit him over the head with a club.
    He needed that drink.
    He forced himself to lift his eyelids and look around the room. Where the hell was he? He certainly wasn’t in his own home. Then he remembered the running horses and Adam leaning over him.
    Using more strength than he thought he had in him, he threw off the bedcovers and swung one leg over theedge of the bed. He needed to find a bottle. He needed a drink before his head split wide open.
    He sat upright and clutched his fists into the covers to keep from toppling over. He wore a nightshirt. He hadn’t slept in a bloody nightshirt for years. He let his eyes scan the entire room. There wasn’t a bottle anywhere. His stomach lurched and he thought he was going to be ill.
    Damn it to hell! He needed a drink!
    By the time he had the nightshirt off and his shirt and breeches on, his hands were trembling so violently he could barely button his breeches. He left his shirt gaping at the neck. He knew he wouldn’t find anything to drink up here. He had to get downstairs.
    He staggered across the room and out the door. A heavy film of perspiration covered his forehead before he reached the stairs. By the time he made it to the first floor, his knees felt like pudding beneath him.
    “Good morning, Mr. Blackmoor,” Adam’s butler, Fenwick, said from behind him.
    Griff clung to the thick, oak column at the bottom of the banister to hold himself steady. “Where’s the earl, Fenwick?”
    “In his study, sir. Should I announce you?”
    “No.” Griff forced himself to walk across the marble vestibule floor. “I’ll announce myself.”
    Griff grabbed the handle on Adam’s study door and flung it open. Adam Blackmoor, Earl of Covington, raised his head and stared at him with a look that was part concern and part disgust. Griff didn’t care. His only thought at the moment was making it to Adam’s well-stocked supply of fine liquors and pouring himself a tall glass of anything thatwould numb the pain in his head and stop his hands from shaking. He filled a glass and took several long swallows, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
    Adam rose and walked to the door. “Fenwick, bring a tray with coffee,” he ordered from the doorway, then closed the door behind him, leaving the two of them