Page 42 of Taming Her

“Have you ever tried?”

She didn’t answer. She hadn’t tried much since flunking out of college. Other than drink, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. But she wasn’t about to tell Griff that. He was a regular party pooper. Clean living, that’s what he liked, and, as it turned out, spanking her poor behind.

“I’m tired,” she said, finishing the last of her chili. “I want to go to bed.”

“You slept most of the afternoon.”

“I guess it’s catching up with me, had a few late nights.”

“A few years of late nights.” He set down his knife and fork. “Yes, go to bed. If sleep is what you want it must be what you need.”

“And tomorrow?”

“What about it?”

“What are we doing?”

“You, Ava, are going to try and be a good girl and not earn yourself another sound spanking.” He jerked his head at the stairs. “Now off you go to bed.”

Chapter 9

When Ava woke the next morning, she was aware of a big man asleep next to her, his body heat radiating onto her arm and leg and his gentle breaths melodically warming her cheek.

She opened her eyes, carefully propped onto her elbow and stared down at Griff’s sleeping face.

Damn, the man was gorgeous. He’d certainly grown into his features. Strong wide jaw sprinkled with a hint of stubble, wide sensual lips with a deep cupid’s bow. His nose was dead straight with nostrils a little flared. And his lashes, long and dark, created small shadows. His eyebrows were heavy and black, and his brow smooth. He had a small round dot, a chickenpox scar, beside his right temple. It was faint, but this close she could see it.

A lock of hair was hanging over his brow; she was tempted to move it so it wouldn’t tickle while he slept, but left it there.

He seemed pretty out of it.

Carefully, slowly, she pushed back the covers and stepped out of bed.

The air was chill, so she pulled on a dressing gown—one of several new items Griff had returned with the day before.

Creeping down the stairs, she entered the kitchen. The first thing she did was open the huge door that led out to the patio.

Instantly bird song filled the room along with the fresh promise of a new day.

Ava placed her hands on her hips, smiled and breathed deep. It was a novelty to wake up without a dull ache in her head and a dry, scratchy throat. She also kind of liked the fact that she remembered going to bed, which had been ridiculously early, about the time she’d normally start getting ready to go out and party.

After a few minutes watching two doves strutting along the apex of the living room roof, which was single story and jutted into the garden, she turned back to the kitchen.

She filled the kettle, flicked it on, then spotted two green boxes of eggs.

Her stomach rumbled. Eggs would be good right now, scrambled, and on a slice of that seedy whole-meal bread.

She set to work finding a bowl and a pan. Cracked eggs and realized she was humming. How silly.

* * *

Griff woke and instantly a sense of panic gripped his heart. It was a tight fist that threatened to steal his breath.

He didn’t need to look at the bed to know Ava wasn’t there.

So he leaped out and dragged his faded Levi’s on over his boxers.

Where the hell is she?