Ask for It by Sylvia Day

Author:Sylvia Day [Day, Sylvia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781405912259
Publisher: Brava
Published: 2006-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The sun was just beginning to light the sky when Marcus discovered Elizabeth fast asleep with Hawthorne’s journal open on her lap. He shook his head and grimaced.

One sleepless night passed, thirteen left to survive.

Confused by his soul-deep disquiet, he tugged on his boots and left the small residence. He crossed the circular cobblestone drive that swung by both the main manse and the house he shared with Elizabeth, and headed toward the stables beyond. Below the cliff face he heard the rhythmic roaring of the waves upon the shore and felt the misty breeze as it swelled over the ledge and permeated his sweater. Once inside the warmth of the stables he sucked in the scent of sweet hay and horseflesh, such a stark contrast to the salty bite of the air outdoors.

He bridled one of his carriage bays and led the gelding out of the stall. With a singular determination to work himself to exhaustion so he could sleep at night, Marcus set to the task of grooming his horses. As the heat of his exertions made him sweat, he discarded his sweater in favor of comfort. Lost in thoughts of the night before and the remembrance of Elizabeth displayed erotically in the candlelight, he was startled by a gasp behind him.

Turning about swiftly, he faced the winsome lass who delivered their meals. “Milord,” she said, dipping a quick curtsy.

Eyeing the groomsmen’s quarters behind her, he quickly deduced her worry. “Don’t fret,” he assured her. “I’ve been known to be dumb and blind on occasion.”

The servant studied him with obvious curiosity, her appreciative gaze taking in his bare chest. Surprised to find himself a bit flustered by a woman’s sensual perusal, Marcus turned to retrieve his sweater. As his hand closed around the garment, which was slung over the nearest stall, the temperamental beast inside had the temerity to bite him.

Cursing, Marcus snatched back the injured appendage and glared at the duke’s stallion.

“’e’s a bit testy that one,” the girl said with sympathy. She reached his side and held out a rag, which Marcus accepted quickly and wrapped around his hand to staunch the trickle of blood.

The girl was a pretty thing with soft brown curls and passion-flushed cheeks. Her dress was disheveled, betraying her recent activities, but her smile was genuine and filled with good humor. Marcus was about to return that smile when the stable door slammed open, startling his horse who then sidestepped anxiously, knocking Marcus into the servant and tumbling them both to the floor.

“You rutting beast!”

Marcus lifted his head from the girl’s shoulder and met a violet gaze of such fury he couldn’t breathe for a moment. Elizabeth stood with her hands on her hips in the stable doorway.

“I wouldn’t wed you for any reason!” she shouted, before spinning in a swirl of skirts and running away.

“Christ.” Marcus leapt to his feet and then yanked the servant girl to hers. Without another word, he was in pursuit, rushing past the gaping, sleep-mussed groomsman and out to the rapidly lightening dawn.

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