Read Online Taken by Storm by Danelle Harmon - Free Book Online Page A

Muscle—”
    “How utterly ghastly . Pray I shall never have to see anything more disconcerting than what you had to do to that poor, bloated dog yesterday! Imagine, stabbing it in the belly with a needle—”
    “You should have stayed a bit longer,” he couldn’t resist adding, with a teasing grin. “The stomach tube procedure that followed was even more impressive.”
    She blanched. “ Stomach tube ?”
    “Aye. A long, snakish thing of wire wrapped with leather. One must push it down the esophagus and into the stomach so as to relieve the excess—”
    “Never mind, Dr. Lord, you may talk of such things after we eat breakfast! Which reminds me, would you like a blackcurrant tart?”
    As though on cue, the stallion’s ears shot forward and he craned his neck and stared at his mistress’ pocket. Odd behavior, Colin thought, frowning. The little noblewoman reached into her coat, pulled out a thick wedge of paper-wrapped pastry, and pushing aside Shareb-er-rehh’s questing muzzle with her elbow, offered it to Colin.
    He took it and thanked her, not realizing how hungry he’d been until the sugary, flaky pastry filled his mouth. The stallion eyed him flatly, one ear forward, one back; then it banged its head against Lady Ariadne’s shoulder, hard, at the same time that Colin felt paws against his knees and looked down to see little Bow, begging, drooling, and staring at him with desperate eyes. Hungry as he was, he broke the pastry in half, gave the bigger piece to the dog, and when he glanced up, noticed the stallion was munching something and regarding him with haughty triumph.
    He frowned. Dear God, he hoped she hadn’t fed pastry to the horse . . .
    Early morning traffic was beginning to clatter past on the street beyond the buildings, and overhead, two chaffinches flitted amongst branches dressed in green. It was apparent that if they ever wanted to get out of London, he’d have to get this venture underway. He made one final check of the harness, lifted Bow into the chaise—
    And saw his employer giving something to her horse.
    “What are you feeding him?”
    “Pastry.” She smiled lovingly at the stallion as it lipped the last crumbs from her palm. “A blackcurrant tart, to be precise.”
    “I forbid it.”
    She stiffened, her chin coming up. “Dr. Lord, you’ll not forbid anything. Shareb likes pastry and ale—”
    “ Ale? ”
    “Yes, ale . Are you hard of hearing? Or do you forbid that, too, Doctor ?”
    “As a matter of fact, I do. As your horse’s veterinarian I cannot allow him to have pastry and ale, no matter how much he enjoys them. Surely he can subsist comfortably well on hay, bran, oats and corn, like any other horse—”
    “Dr. Lord, you don’t understand. Shareb-er-rehh is not ‘just any other horse’ and he deserves special treatment. Besides, I’ve been feeding him pastry and ale since he was a little colt. Now please, be reasonable . . . you’re already forcing him to pull that dreadful chaise. The least you can do is allow him some small recompense to atone for this grievous assault on his pride.”
    Another wedge of pastry on her palm, Ariadne turned her back on him, held out her hand to the stallion once more—
    And felt her wrist caught in the veterinarian’s grip.
    “I said, no .”
    He was no longer teasing her, and his tone was hard and commanding and brooked no argument. She froze, staring at his fingers. How small and fragile her wrist looked, caught in that broad, masculine grip; how white and dainty her skin was, how tiny her bones in comparison to the breadth and strength of his hand. She felt the warmth of his thumb against her pulse, the calluses of his palm against her flesh, and once again saw the mastiff, and he leaning over it, these very same hands coaxing it back to life . . .
    Her head jerked up and she stared straight ahead, her mouth set. “Dr. Lord. I did not give you permission to touch me.”
    He didn’t let go.
    Her voice rose. “Did you