Free Defying Destiny by Olivia Downing Page A

in the stove with a
    long match and settled for broiling the
    steaks. Perhaps with a little food in her
    belly, she would return to a rational state
    of mind.
    Nash was wise to shut himself in his
    room while she remained hostile. Still,
    she couldn’t understand why he’d stopped.
    Couldn’t he tell she had liked what he was
    doing to her? Should she have told him
    that she wanted to feel his mouth against
    her there? Because she had. She’d been
    cursing the presence of her pants. She’d
    never been with a man before. She wasn’t
    sure if his behavior had been abnormal or
    mundane. All she knew is that she’d
    wanted it. Wanted... whatever it was he
    had been initiating. If he would have just
    asked her, she would have encouraged
    him to continue. Perhaps he had wanted
    her to resist. Her aunt had told her men
    did not like easy women. They enjoyed the
    hunt more than the prize. Maybe Aunt
    Bailey had been right.
    When the steaks were done, she went
    back to Nash’s room and knocked lightly
    on the door.
    “Are you hungry?” she asked, calmly.
    “Dinner is ready.”
    After a moment, he opened the door,
    his face flushed with embarrassment. He
    was looking less like a wild animal and
    more like the respectable man she was
    quickly growing to admire.
    “I really am sorry about my behavior,”
    he said, avoiding her eyes. “I don’t know
    what came over me.”
    “Forget it,” she said.
    “You forgive me?”
    “Why wouldn’t I? Nothing really
    happened.” She sounded a hell of a lot
    calmer and self-assured than she felt.
    He breathed a sigh of relief. “Did you
    cook?”
    She nodded, and he smiled, still
    flushed, but at least he was able to meet
    her eyes now. What an intriguing man of
    contradictions. Aggressive one minute,
    passive the next. She suspected he would
    never cease to amaze her. She wasn’t sure
    which she liked better—his dominating,
    out of control side or his tender,
    levelheaded side. It wasn’t important, she
    decided. They were both a part of the
    same man and she had to admit she liked
    all of him.
    “Have you ever heard of a potato?”
    she asked as they walked back to the
    kitchen.
    “Potato?” he echoed, pausing with
    thought. “Isn’t that some sort of tuber?”
    She laughed. He did love to tease her.
    “All I could find to cook was meat.”
    He glanced at her, seeming sincerely
    confused. “Is there something wrong with
    that?”
    She scratched her head. “Well, I guess
    not; if you’re a carnivore. People,
    however, are omnivores.”
    “I suppose,” he agreed. “We could go
    to Sarbough tomorrow and purchase some
    plant products for your satisfaction.”
    She laughed again. “You’re a funny
    guy, Nash.”
    “Funny ha-ha or funny strange?”
    “Both.”
    “I’m not quite used to your ways
    either. I apologize in advance for doing
    anything you would consider uncouth.”
    She looked up at him and she could
    see he was trying to understand her, just as
    she was trying to understand him. “Stop
    apologizing to me, Nash. I like you fine
    the way you are. Just be yourself.”
    She expected this to put him at ease,
    but it seemed to make him even more
    nervous. “Be myself,” he whispered. He
    glanced at her briefly before staring down
    at the floor. “I just don’t think you’re
    ready for that yet.”
    She shook her head, at a loss once
    again. “You’re being funny strange again.”
    “Sorry.”
    “Stop apologizing.”
    “Sorry.”
    “Nash!” she admonished.
    “Sorry.” He laughed uneasily, and
    raked a hand through his hair. The lock of
    white hair partially covering his left eye
    moved
    aside
    momentarily,
    before
    returning to rest in its previous position. “I
    could use a cigarette.” He glanced at her
    for her reaction.
    “If it will calm you down, by all
    means, smoke ten of them.”
    “But you’ve prepared dinner. It would
    be rude to let it grow cold.”
    “It’s better than watching you twitch
    like you have a nervous