Her Lord's Table by Alysha Ellis Page B

the idea at once. The summerhouse was on her father’s estate. And she had every right to enter. She put her hand on the doorknob and turned it.
    The door opened silently and she stepped inside. A mosaic tiled floor depicting a hunting scene led to an oversized daybed pushed up against a wall. If the summerhouse was infested with mice or rats, there was no sign of them. The entire place was remarkably tidy and well maintained for a deserted building.
    The musky scent of roses and the warm, dappled sun falling through the latticework windows made it a perfect place for her to read Harry’s book.
    She sat on the daybed, stretching out on its wide mattress, snuggling her back up against the padded rest at the end. Feeling deliciously wicked, she kicked off her shoes, rolled down her stockings then began to read.
    Harry might have found the subject matter shocking but he must have had a far better idea of where to look for the scandalous parts than she did. The introduction to the work was dull and old fashioned. While she normally loved the chance to improve her knowledge, today, with the sun shining and in this peaceful spot, she couldn’t summon up her usual enthusiasm.
    The sun warmed her face and her eyelids grew heavy.
    The sound of the door being shut snapped her awake. A man stood in the middle of the room. Shadows fell across his face and she couldn’t make out his features. His arms were folded across his powerful chest.
     
     
     
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