Page 54 of The Dravenhearst Brides
She couldn’t focus. She shoved the stranger aside, searching desperately for her brother. She’d seen him fall. She’d seen the horse towering over him before she’d been struck. Had heard the hoofbeats. She had to save him. She was the only one who could save him.
“Margot!”
Hands latched onto her arms, restraining her. Gentle yet firm. She traced them up to their owner. Golden and warm…bourbon eyes.
Merrick.
Though her heart continued to thunder, her mind slowed. She wasn’t at Greenbrier with Elijah; she was at Dravenhearst Manor with Merrick. She was…
Margot looked around in confusion, saw the looming silhouette of a chestnut stallion over Merrick’s shoulder.
Why in heckin’ hell was she in the stables?
As she wiggled to rise, she realized the straps of her dress had been yanked down, exposing her chest and chemise.
“I’m sorry,” Merrick murmured, looking away. “You were breathing strangely. I loosened it to try to help.”
“It’s fine.” She made no move to cover the top of her exposed chemise. She was still feeling flushed.
“I’m going to get help, Ruth or Julian.” Merrick stood. “I didn’t want to leave while you were unconscious.”
“Don’t go,” she said, reaching for him. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. I’m fine, really.” She nearly choked on the lie. It tasted like the straw littering the stable floor, dry and coarse. She simply couldn’t bear to be left alone with the horses, and she wasn’t certain her wobbly legs would hold her if she tried to flee.
“You don’t look fine.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him back to his knees. “Stay.”
“What happened?”
“I just…started feeling strange all of a sudden. I told you, this happens occasionally.” Actually, the more she looked around and breathed in the strong smell of horse, the more her claustrophobia returned. She closed her eyes against the onslaught, but then she heard a whinny.
Her eyes popped open, bulging. “I need to leave.”
She tried to stand, legs trembling. Merrick’s arms closed around her, forcing her down. “You just need to rest for a moment.”
“No. I need to leave,” she repeated. “Now.”
His arms encircled her again, and she began to panic in earnest.
“Let me go!” she cried, clawing at his hold. Even as she fought, her legs buckled. Her neck pulsed with heat, and the room began to tunnel.
“Margot, stop!”
“Merrick,” she gasped, desperate for air. “Take me out of here. Out.Now.” Her heart thudded explosively in her chest, and not enough oxygen, no amount of gulping breaths, could calm her.
She felt like she was going to die.
“Out,” she barked, the single word harsh, expelled with a shuddering exhale. Her next breath hitched on the back of the last. And then the next. And the next.
He must not have liked the noise she was making, because he finally listened. Merrick scooped her up, tucking her against his chest. “Where?”
“Out,” was all she could manage. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his shirt. Her next breath was filled with the smell of man. Smoky leather and oak-laden musk. She inhaled again, sucking down his scent like a woman possessed, filling her nostrils and her brain with it.
He smells like cedar and bourbon,she realized.Like the rickhouses.
The barn door opened with a whining creak. Then came the squelch of sticky evening air. The katydids buzzed loudly.
Merrick. Merrick. Merrick.Shechanted his name in rhythm with his steps. Her heart slowed to match the tempo. Her hitching breaths gradually quieted, turning to soft, shuddering inhales.
