Read Online Master of Desire by Kinley MacGregor - Free Book Online

trailing down his temple. “Nay, milord, I fear the worst of it is the gash upon your brow.”
    Her father’s enemy or not, she wasn’t about to stand still in the face of an open wound and do nothing. She turned to Simon. “My maid is upstairs in my chambers. Please ask her to fetch my sewing kit and a cup of wine.”
    With a nod, Simon obeyed.
    Emily took Lord Draven’s hand to lead him toward a shaded spot, but when she stepped forward, he didn’t budge.
    Confused, she turned back to face him.
    He gave her a suspicious frown. “Why do you touch me?” he asked.
    Emily looked down at their joined hands in surprise. She immediately let go. “I didn’t mean to offend you, milord. I was only thinking that I could better tend your wound if you were seated.”
    â€œMy squire can tend my wound.”
    She lifted her brow at him. “Milord, if the scar on your neck is a testament of the boy’s handiwork, then I beg you please allow me to stitch your forehead. I shudder to think of the scar he would leave there.”
    As if hearing his name, his squire appeared from the side of the donjon. He had a stool in his right hand, a bowl in his left, and a linen towel draped over his shoulder.
    â€œLord Simon told me to fetch this for you, milord,” he said to Draven. “I also brought a cloth and water.”
    Lord Draven stood a moment as if debating with himself, then he finally spoke. “Where would milady like the stool placed?”
    For some reason Emily felt as though she’d won a skirmish with him.
    â€œOver there, please,” she said, pointing to the spot where Simon had been resting earlier.
    The boy ran to obey her.
    She led the way with Draven no more than a step behind. As she walked, she could feel his gaze on her like a gentle caress. She sensed that he wanted to touch her and yet the very idea seemed ridiculous, especially given the tone of his voice when he asked why she’d touched him to begin with.
    His squire placed the stool where she told him, then quickly ran off to fetch his master’s sword and helm from the training field.
    Draven settled himself on the stool while Emily dipped one corner of the towel in water.
    No sooner had he removed his mail gauntlets and balanced them on his thigh than Alys came with her basket and wine.
    â€œThank you, Alys,” she said, taking them from her and placing them on the ground next to the bowl of water.
    To her consternation, Alys, who stood directly behind Draven, looked at the back of his head, then met Emily’s gaze and patted her chest to indicate her heart raced the way Emily’s did. If that wasn’t bad enough, Alys balled her hand into a fist and bit her forefinger as her lustful, hungry stare followed the length of his body.
    Heat stung Emily’s cheeks at her maid’s pantomimed expressions.
    At that moment, Draven looked up at Emily, and seeing where her gaze was directed, he turned about to catch Alys still biting her hand.
    Alys’s smile faded and she took her hand out of her mouth and shook it. “Darn fleas. Bit me something silly last night.”
    Lord Draven looked less than convinced as he turned back to Emily.
    Alys locked gazes with her and lifted her brows several times. “Milady has all she requires?” Alys asked in a tone that meant I’ll gladly leave the two of you alone.
    â€œAye, Alys, thank you.”
    â€œShould milady have any further need of me for anything ”—Emily cringed at the way Alys stressed the word—“please don’t hesitate to call.”
    â€œI won’t, Alys.” Emily gave her a pointed glare. “Thank you.”
    Alys made one last kissing face at Lord Draven, then rushed off to the keep.
    Embarrassed to the core of her soul, Emily opened her sewing basket.
    â€œTell me, milady, is your maid possessed of some strange demon that makes her dance about so?”
    Smiling, Emily