Surrender To Me by Sophie Jordan Read Free Book Online Page B

over her. Dragging a steadying breath into her lungs, she ruthlessly shoved the sensations back.

    Resolve gleamed in his pale blue eyes, and she knew she would not be able to sway him from his chivalrous impulse. For whatever reason, he was committed to assisting her. Perhaps he truly believed that nonsense of them being bound now. Perhaps. But there was more to it. Another reason lurked in his ever-shifting gaze. And it made her skin prickle.

    Instead of protesting, she nodded, smiled tightly, and feigned acquiescence. “Very well. I would appreciate that, Mr. Shaw. We may depart as soon as you’re fit for travel.”

    “We can leave this very morning.”

    “I don’t think so.”

    “Then tomorrow,” he declared with an easy smile.

    “We shall see,” she murmured, thinking she would certainly be well gone by tomorrow. Without him.

     

    The day passed slowly, the howling wind outside making her glad for the cozy warmth of their room.

    Griffin Shaw might deem himself ready to travel, but his injury clearly still plagued him. Even without the laudanum she offered him—and which he declined—he slept off and on throughout the day, waking only when she roused him to change his bandage and at the arrival of their meals. The piping-hot smell of yeasty bread instantly worked to revive him.

    He ate heartily, using his bread to sop up the remains of his thick stew. She couldn’t help but stare as he licked the juice off his thumb, reminded afresh of his primitive nature and oddly intrigued. Even when he licked his thumb, he managed to look…handsome. Unnervingly so.

    “You’re finished?” he asked, looking up and eyeing her empty bowl.

    She nodded, as always wishing there had been more. And yet accustomed to the lingering pangs of hunger.

    She ate well when at Jane’s or Lucy’s. Or when she braved the sneers and speculation and attended a party or ball. Something she only did when the pantries at home were woefully bare and she did not want to take food from the mouths of Cook or the others. An occasional evening on the Town could be tolerated for them.

    He craned his neck to peer inside her bowl. “I’ve never met a female who could eat faster than me.”

    Standing, she gathered their trays, annoyed with herself. Hunger. A weakness she couldn’t banish. The gnawing ache never seemed satisfied.

    They spoke little the rest of the day. When night fell and a new serving girl—it appeared the garrulous Molly had been called away on some family matter—cleared their dinner trays, Astrid bided her time, waiting for him to drop asleep again.

    She had contemplated adding a dose of laudanum to his drink, but the prospect reminded her of another night long ago when she had doctored someone else’s drink…and lost herself in the process. A shiver trembled down her spine.

    She couldn’t bring herself to do such a thing again. She regretted that she ever had.

    She waited, sitting stiffly in the chair she had once again moved back to the window, needing the distance now more than ever considering that he was no longer mindless with fever but a vital, virile man.

    When he at last surrendered to sleep, she rose from her chair and moved about the room silently, scarcely breathing, keeping one eye on him as she gathered her things to leave.

    Slipping out the door, she resisted the overwhelming urge to look over her shoulder, to sneak a lingering glance.

    Looking back never made sense. Only sentimental fools looked back, longing for what could never be and what never was.

Chapter 6

    H er heart beat hard against her rib cage as she took step after slow step up the creaking stairs of the boardinghouse. She wore her hood low over her face even though she had left the worst of the chill outside. Several eyes watched her ascent, prompting her to shrink deeper into the confines of her cloak. Why she bothered to hide she could not be certain. No one in Dubhlagan knew her. No one would take special note of her