Read I Love the Earl for Free Online Page A

something very intriguing about an untamed man in the veneer of a civilized gentleman. “Perhaps this time I might improve your opinion of me.”
    Margaret felt again the prickle of discomfort at the way she had abused him. “I’m not in such an ill temper today,” she said. “I must beg your pardon for making light of your sheep tragedy.”
    He dipped his head. “Thank you for the condolences.”
    She hesitated. “How many died?”
    “Almost five thousand head.” She gasped. “It was a flood,” he added. “A sudden torrential rain. They were caught in a valley, and would not run uphill despite the herders’ efforts.”
    “And none were saved?”
    “Not many. Sheep aren’t the cleverest creatures.” He raised his eyes to the heavens wearily. “Bloody idiots, really.”
    She laughed before she could stop herself, and then tried to mask it with a cough as Lord Dowling cocked his head and quirked his lips. “I hope you didn’t expect more of sheep.”
    “No. I wish I’d had the benefit earlier of your suggestion to invest in goats or cows.”
    “Perhaps you should keep them all out of valleys, just to be safe.”
    He laughed. Margaret smiled in reply, then realized what she was doing and wiped it from her face. He was acting so warmly because he wanted to marry an heiress, she reminded herself. “I must return,” she said, her voice stilted. “Your pardon, sir.”
    His eyes glinted at her. “So you can suffer the importunate attentions of other destitute gentlemen?”
    She raised her chin. “I’m sure it isn’t any of your concern what I intend to do. I was wrong to be so curt the other night, but you and I are strangers still. Good day, my lord.”
    “We won’t be strangers for long,” he said with that trace of amusement that irked her so.
    “Did you not listen to what I said the other night? My brother has given me the choice.” She couldn’t resist looking him up and down once more, although without the chilly scorn she had managed the first time they met. Had she really been so quick to dismiss such a dangerously attractive man? He was one of the many fortune hunters chasing her, true, but he was the handsomest one of the pack. From his splendidly muscular calves to the dark waves of his hair, he was utterly beautiful.
    “I heard you.” He came closer, his shoes crunching on the gravel of the path. Margaret kept her face smooth and composed, but she couldn’t make her feet move and walk away. The nerve of him! To stand there caressing her with his gaze as if he wanted her —her, not her money. It was shocking and impudent and rude and . . . and . . . and somewhat thrilling. Which was even worse than rude, she was sure.
    “But what you didn’t allow for, my dear,” he went on softly, “was that you’ll choose me.”
    What nerve he had! “I am quite familiar with the concept of impossibility,” she snapped back. “I refuse to marry any man who needs money.”
    “No, you’re going to marry me.” He lowered his eyelashes and gave her a wicked smile. “And we’ll be very happy.”
    She stared at him for a moment. In spite of her outrage, something inside her hummed like a barely plucked string at his tone, deep and rough and tinged with the promise of something so sinfully pleasurable . . . she couldn’t even imagine it. She didn’t want to imagine it. “You’d swear the same to any heiress. They say you’re utterly ruined.”
    “Not ruined. Destitute. There’s a difference.” He held up one finger as she started to speak again. Somehow he had moved close enough to touch her, as he did now, laying that bare finger against her lips. “But we’re the same sort. We belong together.”
    She jerked away from him. Her lips tingled from the touch, and it was all she could do not to lick them. “I fear lunacy has overtaken you, sir.”
    He laughed, a low, easy rumble that made her heart skip a beat. “Undoubtedly! That doesn’t change the truth of my statement,