Earls Just Want to Have Fun by Shana Galen Read Free Book Online

bone. She lifted the bowl and drank a hearty measure of the soup, then dipped the hunk of bread in and scooped up the remaining liquid. She shoved the bread in her mouth, chewing quickly and washing it down with a measure of wine. The wine was good, and she drank it all.
    She shoved another hunk of bread in her mouth and held the glass out. “More wine?” she said around the bread.
    The bastard and the cook stared at her as though they had never seen a person eat. She waved the glass to get the cook’s attention, and the woman finally blinked and poured more. “Er…more soup, dear?”
    Marlowe nodded. She could have eaten ten bowls of it. It was the best thing she’d had in…well, as long as she could remember. She probably shouldn’t be accepting anything from the bastard, but she figured he owed her. She hadn’t asked to be nabbed.
    She ate two more bowls, and then she was so full she worried she’d have to be rolled out of there. Her stomach, used to being empty, hurt from swelling. But it was a good hurt, and now she felt sleepy. She yawned.
    â€œLet’s get you to bed,” the bastard said. For some reason, a shiver ran up her spine at his words.
    She shook it off. “I’m not sharing a dab with you! If you try and touch me, you’ll find your arm missing your hand.”
    The cook made a strained sound, then pretended to be very busy cleaning up. But she was obviously still listening. The bastard opened his mouth to say something more, and that was when the other servants walked in. They’d been doing something in the other room, and now a mopsqueezer entered, carrying Marlowe’s clothing.
    â€œSorry to interrupt, my lord,” the slavey said with a curtsy. Marlowe rolled her eyes. As if the man was worth all that fawning. “What should I do with…these?”
    â€œBurn them.”
    â€œHey!” Marlowe tried to snatch her dress away. “Those are mine!”
    The swell stepped in front of her, and the maid shrank back as though Marlowe would attack. “You can go,” the bastard told the slaveys. They ran off as though his words came from heaven.
    He was still standing in front of her, and she could smell the clean scent of him. He didn’t smell like flowers, but like something masculine and fresh. She wanted to move closer and inhale more deeply. Instead, she looked up at him, and for some reason, she felt dizzy. He was looking at her, those brown eyes focused on her face, and she felt too warm and short of breath. Maybe the soup had been poisoned.
    â€œFollow me,” he said curtly.
    She put her hands on her hips. His eyes followed the movement, and she saw his throat move as he swallowed.
    â€œI’m not going anywhere with you.”
    He sighed. “Marlowe, there is an easy way to do things and a hard way. I take it you prefer the hard way.”
    She frowned. When he spoke, she had the feeling he was saying more than his words would indicate. It was almost as though he was making fun of her. There often seemed no right answer to his questions, so she kept silent.
    â€œIn this case, the easy way is for you to follow me to my room.”
    â€œNo.” She said it flatly. She was not going to this man’s room.
    â€œThe hard way it is.” He reached for her, and before she could jump out of the way, he scooped her into his arms. She fought him, more comfortable now in the trousers and man’s shirt, but he was prepared. He tossed her over his shoulder and held her legs at the knees to stop her from kicking him. Despite her struggles, she caught the shocked look of the cook, and then they were outside. Marlowe didn’t pay much attention to where they were, she just fought and screamed, and finally they stepped in the house and she had to catch her breath.
    â€œYou have another choice,” he said ominously. “Keep screaming and I bind your mouth, or keep quiet and you remain