Surrender to Me (The Derrings #4)(41)

At your own request, a small voice in the back of her head reminded. I did this.

She tore her gaze away from him. Morning light washed the room, altering it, giving it little resemblance to the shadowed, dreamlike chamber of the night before. Appropriate, she supposed. That night was over. A thing of the past. Already more dream than reality. It could never happen again.

“Yes,” she answered, tucking her hair behind her ears. “And you?”

She readjusted the counterpane around her and darted a glance to her valise across the room, longing to dress herself and repair her hair—to reclaim some normalcy, to reclaim herself.

He stared at her, a strange little smile curving his lips. “Like a log.”

“Lovely,” she murmured.

His smile deepened, turned mocking. “So we’re to this now? Social niceties? How civilized.”

Flushing, she ignored the comment and asked, “Could you give me a moment please? So that I might dress?”

His mocking gaze made her feel the fool for even asking. “A little late for modesty now, don’t you think?” he asked in the same hard voice he had used before he stormed out of the room last night. A voice she loathed now as much as then. She missed the way he had spoken to her before—all heat and velvet…melting her insides.

Foolish, she knew. She had asked for this. Foolish, she supposed, to now want to shield her body from his eyes. But how was she to put what happened behind them if she did not at least try to reclaim some distance?

He cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his broad chest, not moving toward the door to grant her the privacy she requested.

Annoyed, she flung back the counterpane and stood. Chin high, she moved to her valise, walking proudly, boldly.

Holding his gaze, she worked the ties free at the front of her nightgown and shrugged the prim cotton off her shoulders and down her arms, letting it drop to her feet in a whisper…letting him look his fill.

Naked before him, she resisted the urge to cover herself with both hands.

His eyes gleamed, the dark centers seeming to grow, darken, bleeding out the light in his blue gaze as he surveyed her, eyes moving up and down her body slowly.

Dark satisfaction spiraled inside her. She was glad to see that his plan to humiliate her had ended in his own punishment.

Intent on torture, she dressed herself slowly, enticing him, letting him watch as she proceeded to cover herself bit by slow bit, taking her time sliding her stockings up her legs and tying the garters at her thighs.

Her satisfaction grew, burning through her at the sight of the ruddy color staining his cheeks.

Only by the time she finished buttoning her last button, her perverse pleasure backfired and she felt as hot and flustered as he appeared.

Rounding the bed, she smoothed her hands down her green and blue striped skirts, averting her eyes and striving to regain her composure. The gown had once been the height of fashion. Now the green and blue were so faded one could scarcely tell where the stripes began and ended. Pride had prompted her to add white lace to the cuffs at her elbows in an attempt to keep up with fashion.

She faced him, proud and erect, dressed but still burning with the knowledge that he had stared at her as she attired herself, his angry, hungry eyes following her every movement.

“Will we breakfast before departing?” she asked, moving to her valise, presenting him with her back. “Or are you eager for us to be on our way?

“We’re not leaving,” he announced. “At least not today.”

She straightened and swung back to face him. “Pardon me?”

“They’re not letting us go. A circumstance owed much to you.”

“Me?”

His eyes still roamed over her as if she stood nude before him. “Yes. You.”

“Why won’t they let us go?”

“Apparently,” he bit out as he lowered to the bed and tugged on his boots, “you mentioned some wealthy friends to the laird.”

“Yes.” She shrugged. “What does that matter now? I was desperate. I would have said anything for him to let me go.”

“Well, it seems the ol’ laird is highly interested in these friends of yours…and their willingness to fill his coffers for your safe return.”

“No,” she gasped, realization sinking in.

“Yes. Being an enterprising sort, Gallagher intends to ransom us. Or rather you. I suppose I could take my leave if I so wish.”

If I so wish.

“And will you?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice level, to sound unaffected at the prospect. She could not blame him if he left her. She had insisted they were nothing to each other. He owed her nothing.

He stared at her a long moment before saying, “No. I won’t leave you here. I’ll see you safely to Edinburgh. As I promised.”

Unable to hide her relief, a shuddery breath rippled through her. Sinking onto the bed beside him, she propped her chin into her hands. “What are we going to do?”

“Never fear,” he assured her in derisive tones. “They’ll treat us as honored guests.” Rising from the bed, he extended his arm. “Come. Let’s eat. I’m famished.”

“Are we not going to discuss this more? You don’t plan on accepting this situation. I can’t stay here.”

He lifted one broad shoulder. “I’ll take care of the matter.”