The Marker Read Online Free

red once but had long since faded to an indiscriminate rust color, and he noticed the way it hung from her body despite her efforts to tailor it to fit. The image of her bedecked in rubies and dressed in scarlet silk swam behind his eyes—she would be an absolute vision. Her full lips were untouched yet a deep, rich red that immediately turned his thoughts carnal. He wondered what it would be like to taste them, to take her full lower lip into his mouth and kiss her until she begged for more.
    But she was more than just her pretty face—there was her spirit to consider. He wasn’t oblivious to the fact she had guided him to the kitchen rather than the sitting room. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw an empty room containing nothing but a well-worn rug even the mice scurrying behind the walls would abandon. The kitchen was bare, save for the table and two rickety chairs, and Nicholas would wager his entire fortune the larder was as empty as the rest of the house. Yet she didn’t use their poverty to plead for clemency—in fact, she didn’t seem to want his pity. Though the top of her head barely reached his chest, he didn’t intimidate her. He wondered if anyone would.
    “The terms are in the contract,” Nicholas began.
    “Oh, I haven’t even gotten to you yet,” she snapped, holding up her hand, and Nicholas bit back his words. She opened the contract, the fire leaping in her dark eyes as she read the terms of their agreement. Throwing the papers down, she glared at her father, who kept his eyes locked on the table. “Look at me, Father!” He refused to comply, and she slammed her hands against the tabletop so hard the man cringed. It must have hurt, but she didn’t even flinch. “You lost me in a card game, the least you can do is look at me!”
    He turned his miserable, blood-shot eyes to her. “I never thought he’d collect, honey.”
    “Don’t you ‘honey’ me!” she shot back. Turning to Nicholas, she grabbed the contract and, waving it at him, said, “This can’t be legal! You can’t bet a person!”
    Nicholas shrugged and kept his features neutral, but his pulse pounded like it did when he was on the verge of winning a big hand on a bluff. Hung over and feeling belligerent, he had come strictly to witness Markland’s shame and leave his daughter with a warning, but once here, he found he wanted what had been offered to him. He intended to collect his due. “Well, if either you or your father have the money to pay the debt, I would be happy to take it,” he said.
    She gestured angrily to the bare kitchen. Her mouth set into a frown, she notched her chin and squared her shoulders, her stance emphasizing the curve her breasts. “Clearly, Mr. Wetherby, we do not,” she said in a voice tight with anger.
    He acknowledged her admission with a nod, suspecting this was as close to begging as she would get. “I can think of no other way, unless your father here would care to change places with you.”
    Lexie turned her dark eyes to her father. Nicholas found himself pitying her for the hope he saw in them—and hoping for himself Markland wouldn’t surprise him by turning honorable and offering to take her place. He’d be forced to relieve Markland of his debt then and leave the girl here with her father.
    Nicholas was not above admitting he had no intention of leaving without her.
    “Father?” she asked. It surprised Nicholas that, after months of decadent, hedonistic living, just the sound of the hope in her voice made him feel like a cad. His honor, long since silent, quietly hissed he should write off the debt and return to court her, but her father had already bet her once, and what would prevent him from doing so again? If he didn’t claim her as his prize, what would happen to her the next time her father had a run of luck?
    He pushed the thought aside. He didn’t need to court her—he’d won her, fair and square.
    Markland folded his arms against his chest, his mouth a thin,