Read Online Make Me Love You by Johanna Lindsey - Free Book Online Page B

I liked his determination not to die so I brought him home and fed him.”
    “Does he howl on the moors?”
    “Not that I’ve noticed. So you heard that rumor?”
    “Yes, but I paid it no heed.”
    “Come here.”
    She tensed. Well, there really was no help for this. And they’d just had a somewhat normal conversation. He might not be as cold and vengeful as she’d been expecting him to be. Maybe her brother had lied and he’d been the one demanding the duels, while Lord Wolfe was just an innocent in Robert’s vendetta for some imagined slight. It was possible. She and the viscount might both be victims of Robert’s vicious nature.
    She moved forward some more, but she was still hesitant to look at him. When she did, she would instantly know his nature. She was good at reading people, a side effect of not letting them read her. But she wasn’t seeing his feet in front of her and she’d be reaching the wall pretty soon!
    Then she did see them, at the foot of the bed. One was under a sheet, and the other, a big bare foot, lay on top of the sheet. He was receiving her while he was in bed?! That was so inappropriate it boggled the mind. She was mortified and prayed her cheeks weren’t showing it.
    She raised her eyes and took in his face and his whole body. Her red cheeks couldn’t be helped now. He sat propped up inbed against a dozen pillows, one leg entirely exposed! His whole chest was bare as well. The bedsheet was draped over his hips. She didn’t miss the leeches on his left thigh, which explained why his leg was uncovered.
    She saw too much with that first glance so she kept her eyes on his face. She definitely wasn’t expecting this. He was more handsome than her brother, and she’d thought no one could overshadow Robert in looks. But this man did in a wild way. The bare shoulders, the upper chest matted with black hair, the thick neck and arms, were a study in stark masculinity. She’d never before seen this much bare male skin.
    Did he have to be such a big, strapping specimen? Wasn’t she intimidated enough without having to worry about his size, too? She wouldn’t be able to outrun legs as long as his, and she definitely wouldn’t be able to get out of arms that strong. And why was a confrontation with him the only thing that came to mind at the sight of so much brawn and muscle? Because he really did look wild.
    It was the hair, long, black, very, very unkempt. And the feral eyes. They were light brown with many golden flecks. Amber eyes—like those a wolf might have. She had to bite back a hysterical giggle. But who could blame her for being fanciful? Fraught by shredded nerves, fears, rumors of wolf men and curses, of course her imagination was going to run rampant.
    “Brooke Whitworth?”
    She banished the wolf from the bed and focused on the man. “Why aren’t you sure?”
    “You don’t have warts.”
    “No, none that I’ve ever noticed.”
    “Gabe alluded . . .”
    “Did he? Shame on him. Does he often tease you like that?”
    “Unfortunately, yes.”
    She smiled, but only to herself. “You must not mind if he still has his job.”
    “Unfortunately, we’ve been friends since childhood, so he takes advantage of that.”
    “That is an odd way to describe a longtime friend . . . as ‘unfortunate.’ ”
    “He is likely the only one who will cry when I’m gone. I regret that.”
    What a sad thing to say, as if he might want her sympathy. Or was he just testing her to see if she had any? When his expression hardened, she decided it was neither. He probably hadn’t intended to reveal something like that to her, so she quickly said, “You have a wound?”
    “A gift from your brother that refuses to heal.”
    He said “brother” as if speaking of the most reviled thing imaginable. They really did have something in common, but she didn’t want to talk about her feelings for Robert.
    Instead she glanced at the leeches on his thigh and said, “He wasn’t aiming for