Surrender to Me (The Derrings #4)(38)

Her eyes flew open and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand, forcing herself to chew more slowly, silently. She scooted back from the tray as if distancing herself from the fare would keep her from gobbling down the dish full of buttery rolls. Almost as if eating with more restraint would prove that she was not a creature of passion, not a woman given to impulsive behavior. At least not again. Not with him.

“Don’t,” he rebuked, lowering onto his side and propping himself on an elbow. “I like a woman with an appetite.” He selected one of the rolls and waggled it before her mouth. “C’mon,” he encouraged. “You know you want it.”

She looked from him to the buttery roll.

“Astrid,” he said, his voice firm, matter-of-fact. “You have to eat.”

Leaning forward, she forced herself to take a dainty bite from the roll.

Shaking his head, he looked back at her as she ate. Flipping a hank of hair over her shoulder, he glided a finger over the smooth slope of her shoulder, marveling, “How can you be so thin and eat like this?”

“I rarely eat like this,” she replied. “At least not often. My friends call me a camel.”

“A camel storing water,” he mused, rolling a date between his fingers, staring at her as though he would like to devour her and not the food.

“Only I store food.” She smiled ruefully, recalling the afternoon Lucy had made the comparison. Astrid had been halfway through a platter of ham salad sandwiches at the time. “Accurate description, I suppose.”

“You know, that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”

Astrid’s mouth hardened automatically.

“And then it’s gone.” He sighed. “I suppose I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She dropped her gaze to the tray and selected a wedge of cheese.

“Why can’t you smile?” he murmured, tilting her chin up with a finger. “Is it so very difficult?”

She returned his stare, answering with a solemn honesty that surprised her. “I’ve had little to smile about in my life.”

“So you won’t let yourself smile because of what has happened in the past?”

She shook her head, dislodging his finger from beneath her chin. “It’s not that simple.”

He popped a date into his mouth, watching her intently as he chewed. “Why is it so complicated?”

Because smiling leads to other things. Feelings. Emotions that lead to crazy, reckless sex with a man she had known less than a week. Her stomach heaved, her hastily eaten meal threatening to return on her.

“Astrid? What is it?” Griffin leaned in, his body an encroaching wall of heat that she immediately responded to. Like a fire in winter, his heat drew her, called to her, beckoned.

Blast. Her body wasn’t her own anymore. She had to get away from him. Quickly. Before she did anything more foolish, more reckless than she already had. Before she drew too close and went up in flames.

Long fingers traced her jaw. “Astrid,” he whispered, his drawl beguiling, a lure to her long frozen heart.

She shook her head fiercely and pulled away with a shiver.

His eyes frosted over, clouds drifting over a pale blue sky. “What?” he bit out. “I can’t touch you anymore? What precisely has changed from moments ago?”

She blinked once, long and hard. Inhaling deeply, she opened her eyes to the tempting sight of him and plunged ahead. “I can’t do this again.”

“This?” he demanded.

She motioned between them. “Yes. This. What we did…are doing.”

His jaw hardened. A muscle jumped wildly in his cheek. “You can’t say it?” he ground out.

She fought off the rising burn in her cheeks, struggling to reclaim her usual composure. “You know my meaning.”

“Sex. I suppose that’s the universal word for it. Although there are more colorful alternatives.”

Heat swept over her face, licking her cheeks. “Griffin, please.”

“What?” he snapped, eyes sparking blue fire. “I’m a common man, Astrid. What did you expect?”

She swept a hand over her burning face. “It can’t happen again. It’s wrong.”

“Wrong?” He shoved off the bed as if her nearness tainted him. “Easy to say now. After the fact.”

“You’re angry.”

“And you’re observant,” he snapped, adding in a growl, “Why the sudden change? You scratched your itch, satisfied your curiosity so now you’ll return to being the haughty bitch? Very well. Just remember I will always know the truth.”

His eyes scoured her and she tightened her fingers on the fur counterpane, pulling it higher. She didn’t know why. The way his hot gaze slid over, she knew he remembered every inch of her, every line and curve.

“What truth?”

“That you’re a fraud, pretending to be the dignified lady, the haughty duchess who’s really as hot as any whore for it.”

Astrid stared, his words ringing in her head, every bit the truth.

She had been hot for it, on fire—for him. Only him.

She bit her lip to keep from confessing this, to stop from giving him any excuse to think that what they had shared went beyond a sordid tryst.

“Make no mistake,” he assured her, first tugging on his boots and then pulling his shirt over his head. “I won’t lay a finger on you again. I’d touch a rattlesnake before approaching you. Less likely to get bit.”