Master of Desire by Kinley MacGregor Read Free Book Online Page A

stableboy.
    â€œVery true,” Simon said, looking to his brother. “But ’tis why you love me so.”
    Draven removed his helm, coif, and arming cap and handed them to his squire, who then dashed off with them. “There is one thing I love about you.”
    â€œAnd that is?”
    â€œYour absence.”
    Simon took it in stride and smiled up at her. “Now you know why I have thick skin.”
    Emily returned his smile as he helped her dismount.
    Such bantering between Niles and Theodore had always made her uncomfortable, but it bothered her not when Simon and Draven did it. Perhaps because unlike Niles and Theodore, there appeared no real animosity between them. ’Twas almost as if the verbal sparring was a good-natured competition between them to see who could get the last word.
    â€œI’m afraid you’ll find Ravenswood far different from Warwick,” Draven said as Simon set her down in front of him.
    She thanked Simon as her gaze trailed up the old, dark gray stone steps to the thick wooden door. There was nothing inviting or warm about his home. Nothing at all.
    No wonder the man was morbid.
    â€œI can make do, milord. Just show me to your housekeeper and I—”
    â€œThere is no housekeeper,” he interrupted.
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    Draven shrugged. “I have only a handful of servants. You’ll find I am not a man to waste time on frivolities.”
    If not for the fact she knew he employed twelve knights, had won numerous tourneys on the mainland, and been rewarded most handsomely by King Henry, she would have questioned his solvency. But Lord Draven was a wealthy man with assets purportedly greater than even those of the crown.
    Deciding criticism would not endear her to the man she hoped to seduce, she sighed. “Very well, milord. I shall make do,” she repeated.
    Draven ordered Simon to find someone to unload her wagons. “I shall show you to your chambers,” he said to her, then turned and walked up the steps.
    Stunned, Emily took a full minute before she followed. She couldn’t believe the man hadn’t even offered her his arm! No one had ever given her such a slight before.
    At least he had the good grace to hold the door open for her.
    Gathering her skirts, she entered his hall, then stopped dead in her tracks.
    There was an indescribable odor to his home, something between rotted wood, smoke, and other things too foul to contemplate. The fading sunlight sliced through the slits of closed wooden shutters, showing her a wealth of rotted rushes, an unlit hearth, and only three dilapidated trestle tables set in the middle of the hall. Five dogs ran about, scavenging in the rushes, while the tops of the tables looked as if they had never known even a semblance of cleaning.
    No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep her nose from wrinkling in distaste. She covered her nose with her hand in an effort not to choke on the stench.
    Skimming the hall with her gaze, she noted the lack of a dais and lord’s table. “Where is your table, milord?”
    â€œI don’t have one,” he said as he walked past her and headed toward the stairs.
    Had that been a catch in his voice? She wasn’t sure and he didn’t pause in his journey.
    Hurrying to keep up, she ascended the drafty stairs. At least up here, the odor abated to where she could breathe normally.
    He stopped at the top of the stairway and pushed open a door. He stood back for her to enter, with one hand splayed on the door and the other on the hilt of his sword.
    Emily swallowed hard as she walked past him. So close to him she could hear his breathing, feel the warmth of it fall against her skin.
    Overwhelmed by his presence, ’twas all she could do not to pause and inhale the raw, pleasant, untamed scent of leather and spice.
    Never in her life had she felt this way. So breathless. So titillated.
    So very alive and alert.
    Again an image of