That meant he had no choice about playing the private concert in Paris, but far more troubling was his promise to Darcy not to lie.
Chapter Fourteen
Hunger woke Darcy shortly after noon. Nearly a forgotten sensation, it took her a moment to place the gnawing emptiness for what it was. She dimly recalled a late night peanut butter sandwich, but now she could almost taste a turkey dinner with all the trimmings.
She turned and found Griffin, his head propped on his hand, observing her. He was clean shaven, his hair combed, but clad only in a towel.
She yawned and whipped the bedspread up over her bare backside. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
Griffin reached out to caress her cheek. “I needed the time to think.”
Alarmed by his solemn mood, Darcy sat up and twisted the cream-colored bedspread across her breasts. “Look, if you want me to leave, I’ll just go.”
Griffin shook his head, reached for her and whispered against her lips, “No, this is what I want.”
His kiss was sweetly insistent. He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, then angled kisses along her jaw and down her throat to the soft hollow where his necklace lay. He licked her collar bones, then slid lower to peel away the bedspread and suckle at her breasts.
Blissfully distracted, Darcy arched her back to lean into him. She wound her fingers in his hair, then spread her hands across his shoulders as he moved lower still.
With an easy shift of position, he moved between her legs, slid her knees over his shoulders and dipped a finger into her slit to smooth the way before he began to tease her with his tongue. He lapped gently, then slipped inside her with quick jabs. All the while, he caressed her thighs and breasts with a feather-light touch.
Darcy raised her arms above her head to grasp the headboard and rolled her hips to move with him. He reached up to pinch her nipples, and she flexed her inner muscles to slow his strokes. That he was always such an adoring lover was a constant thrill, and her slow smile spread wide as she plotted how best to return the favor.
In no rush, he paused frequently to allow the delicious sensations he created to subside before he again brought her close to the inevitable peak. Her appreciative moans inspired him to shift his position again to tease her sensitive folds with the smooth head of his cock. He rocked above her, intent upon satisfying them both, and when her breath came in short grateful bursts, he thrust deep and rode the ripples of ecstasy shooting through her until they overflowed into him as well.
Locked in his arms, Darcy lay in a languid daze until she felt him stir. Then she blew softly against his ear and whispered, “If making love gets any better, I sure hope you know CPR.”
Griffin propped himself on his elbows and looked down at her. “I assume that was a compliment, but you’re a powerful inspiration.”
Darcy would have said he was awfully tempting himself, but a puzzling shadow crossed his smile and stopped her. “You’ve got more than sex on your mind. Are you sorry you offered to extend our lease?”
“No, not at all. We do need to talk, though, but not here.” He rolled off the bed and rewrapped his towel low on his hips. “You get dressed first, and I’ll check the kitchen. There has to be something we can eat.”
He was the most direct individual she’d ever known, but he’d glanced away as he’d spoken, and she knew instinctively that something was wrong. She rose on her knees and called to him before he reached the door.
“Hey, did you bring me up here just to say good-bye?”
Griffin rested his hand on the doorjamb. “If you think that was a sample of my good-byes, then your thinking’s so muddled you need breakfast worse than I do. Now hurry up and get dressed.”
Rather than point out he was again being evasive, Darcy entered the bathroom, but she hadn’t been fooled. Her heart fell as she realized how swiftly he might demand something from her in exchange for the new lease. Appalled to be so cynical, she took her time getting downstairs.
When she entered the kitchen, Griffin was peeling an avocado and nodded toward a glass of orange juice on the counter. “Help yourself. I meant to buy some tea for you, but I can’t remember when I last went to the market. But even without much talent as a chef, I’ve enough here to make us another passable omelet.”
“Anything with avocado is fine with me.” Darcy didn’t really care what he made when he looked so damn good half-dressed. She took a sip of juice and pulled up a stool. “Tell me what’s bothering you. I promise not to pitch a plate at you.”
“That’s a relief.” He took the carton of eggs from the gleaming refrigerator and set them on the counter. “I have to play that private concert in Paris after all, and I hate to go away again so soon.”
“You have to play the concert? Why? Oh Griffin, do you have money problems too?”
He laughed at her question and began to crack half a dozen eggs, drop them into a stainless steel mixing bowl and toss the shells into the sink. “Why don’t you grate some cheese? Then maybe you can listen without leaping to such ridiculous conclusions.”
Darcy found the block of cheddar and grater easily enough, but she still wasn’t happy. “Look, this house has to have cost you a fortune, and you’re cutting back on your concert schedule. It’s only logical that you might have to watch your expenses.”
“All right, I’ll concede the point, but if you’d stop interrupting me, maybe I’d have a better chance of explaining clearly.”
“I once dated a psychologist who accused me of interrupting him when all I meant to interject was a polite comment to assure him I was listening. It was obvious to me then that what he really wanted was a worshipful audience, not a conversation, and I refused to return his calls.”
“Fine, you’ve warned me. There’s a timer on the stove. Shall we set it for a couple of minutes each and take turns?”