Free Make Me Love You by Johanna Lindsey Page A

there.
    He kissed her. His anger made it seem passionate. It was passionate. It was illuminating, a promise of what could be had in his bed if he accepted her. A promise that there would be no clothes between them if he did, that he was a lusty man who would take what he wanted when he wanted it. Her heart pounded erratically, loudly. Her senses were assailed with the rasp of a persistent tongue, the scrape of stubble on his upper lip against her skin, fingers at the back of her neck that caused her to shiver, the smell of whiskey on his breath. She was in no way repulsed, rather she was lured to the forbidden.
    But she quickly stepped back when his arm left her back, his tongue left her mouth. She imagined he’d just gotten bored with the lesson, and she didn’t doubt that was all it was.
    He verified that when he said, “That’s what you can expect.”
    She wanted to bolt from the room, but she stood her ground. She knew what her father would do to her if she refused to marry Lord Wolfe. Tucking an errant wisp of hair back into her coiffure as she took a deep breath to calm herself, she noticed the glass and the bottle of Scotch whiskey on his bedside table. The wolf drank during the day? That didn’t bode well. Or was he taking the whiskey as medicine for his wound?
    “Are you in pain?”
    “Why are you still here?” he grumbled. His golden brown-eyes narrowed on her. “Does it matter?”
    “If you are a drunkard, then, yes, it would.”
    “Then, yes, I am a drunkard.”
    She tsked. Was no part of this meeting going to go well? They’d almost had a normal conversation when he’d asked her age. She tried to get back to that.
    “I told you when my birthday is. When is yours?”
    “It was last week.”
    “So you just turned twenty-five and expect to die at some point during the next twelve months?”
    “Or, thanks to your brother, in the next few days from this wound. But how do you know of the curse?”
    “Last night at the inn near here we heard more’n one rumor.”
    “And that didn’t scare you off?”
    “I don’t believe in such things, so it wouldn’t.”
    “Too bad.”
    She stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”
    “You are sister to the man responsible for my sister’s death. You will never find welcome here.”
    Good God, what had Robert done? It took a moment for her to absorb how much this man hated her. Of course he did, if Robert had harmed his sister.
    “What did he do?”
    “Don’t pretend you don’t know!”
    Brooke wasn’t sure what to do in the face of such rage. If she wasn’t going to be welcome here, did that mean he had no intention of marrying her? So why had he agreed to see her? And why had he tried to shock her with that kiss?
    “Should I leave Rothdale?”
    “Yes.”
    She gasped and turned, about to head straight for the door. If she’d done so more quickly, she would have missed his adding, “If that is your choice.”
    She paused to say bitterly, “You know very well that choice isn’t mine.”
    “Nor mine!” he growled behind her.

Chapter Twelve

    I N THE UPSTAIRS HALLWAY, Alfreda was drawn to the far end of it where Gabriel stood with his ear pressed to Lord Wolfe’s door. She approached to do the same, but he stepped back, saying in an urgent whisper, “Wait! I think she’s about to burst out the door.”
    “It’s not gone well?” Alfreda said with a frown.
    “Indeed not.”
    After a few moments when the door hadn’t opened, they both pressed their ears to it. Facing each other, Alfreda saw Gabriel grinning, as if he did this sort of thing often. Alfreda was only concerned for Brooke and would enter the room without permission if she thought Brooke needed help. Gabriel’s amusement annoyed her. She didn’t like sharing an intrigue of any sort, even one so minor as eavesdropping, with such an impertinent fellow.
    Halfway between the bed and the door, Brooke was having trouble dealing with her own anger. She understood Lord Wolfe’s rage. Her father