Sean stared at the beautiful woman in his lap. Her dark hair hung messily over her shoulders, her pale skin was flushed, and her eyes were bright and innocent. His heart hammered in his chest—she was a virgin.

"You and Marco never—" he began to ask.

​​

Her eyes widened as she shook her head. His head spun. A strange sense of relief and wonder mixed with his desire, and he pulled her closer, cradling her head against his chest.

When he'd first seen the picture of her with her uncle, he'd been struck by the innocence in her eyes, but a part of him hadn't believed it. The more he'd learned about her reputation, and then later about Marco and her horrible family—he was sure the innocence in her eyes was just an act. A sudden thought seized him.

"But if you're a virgin, what about that time in my car?" he asked.

"What?" she asked, sounding confused.

"I said you needed to thank me, and you got down on your knees to suck me off," He said, hating himself for speaking the words out loud. "You did it without thinking, and I thought—"

Her green eyes were sad and hurt, and he couldn't bear to finish the sentence. When she'd dropped down on her knees like that, he'd been disgusted and turned on at the same time. She'd done it like someone with experience—dispassionate and resigned. He'd wanted to be sick, and he'd wanted to let her take him in her mouth. For weeks, the image of her in the back of his car had haunted him.

"I may be a virgin," she whispered. "But I'm not completely innocent. I know things about how the world works. When we became engaged, my aunt gave me some lectures."

"Lectures?" he asked.

She squirmed on his lap, unconsciously rubbing up against his erection. He held his breath and tried to ignore the throbbing need he felt in his groin.

"She told me that I had to satisfy you," Catherine whispered. "She said I had to keep you interested until—until—until everything was finalized. I didn't know what she meant at the time, but I guess she wanted me to keep you happy until they got all the money."

"Oh," he whispered. "I see."

"Are you angry?" she asked.

He wanted to laugh. "Angry?" he asked. "Why would I be angry about something like that?"

"Because my family—" she began.

"I know what your family is like," he replied.

He pulled her closer to him, and his mind raced. She was a virgin. Marco had never touched her. No other man had ever touched her. She was a virgin, and she was his. His erection ached against the restraint of his pants, and he longed to take her right there on the sofa. But he'd have to be careful—she was young and inexperienced.

"Is that why you always pull away from me?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I see," he said. "But I promise you. It's the simplest thing in the world. You're attracted to me, aren't you?"

Her eyes widened, and she froze in his embrace.

"I know you are," he whispered. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention."

***

Catherine was so tense, and she felt she might shatter. Sean still held her in his lap, pressed tight against his chest, but she wanted to run from the room. Her mind raced, and she wondered if it had been a mistake to tell him she was a virgin. Technically, it was true. Marco had first forced her to sleep with him when they finally escaped. His body had been broken and beaten, but he'd still been strong enough to hold her down. She almost gagged at the memory.

But since she'd been reborn, she hadn't been touched by anyone but Sean. Her 19-year-old body had never done anything more than kiss a man. And yet, she could remember it with Marco so clearly. If she could remember the weight of him on top of her, his hand on her throat, the horrible pain of his intrusion in her most intimate place, the horrible groans and grunts he made—was she really a virgin? She wasn't sure. Her stomach lurched, and her heart hammered furiously in her chest. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath—it wouldn't do to be sick in Sean's lap.

"There's no reason to be afraid," he whispered. "I'm not going to rush you, and when it's time, I promise to be gentle. You'll like it."

Her heart hammered in a panic, and she closed her eyes. How could he promise she'd like it? It was horrible. The men pressed their sweaty bodies and pushed and pushed until they were satisfied, leaving their partners feeling dirty, used, and disgusting. She shuddered. No matter what Sean said, it would be the same with him.

He pressed his lips chastely against her shoulder and then loosened his grip. His eyes were still wild, but his jaw was tense and restrained again.

"Anyway," he said. "I need you to rest and recover for now. There's going to be an auction in a few days, and I want you to come with me."

"An auction?" she asked. "Can I sell my uncle's art there?"

"I suppose," he said.

She smiled, "Perfect. I can't wait to start paying Maria and Samuel back."

"Have I married a money-grubber?" he asked, pinching her chin so she'd look at him.

She tossed her hair defiantly, "There's nothing wrong with seeing the value in things."

"Oh," he said with a smirk. "Then you must see the value in having me as a husband."

She felt the blood rush to her face, "That's different. That's your money—not mine."

"We're married, aren't we?" he asked, "What's mine is yours."

He shifted her up and reached into his pocket. For a moment, her heart froze as his hand passed his belt. She relaxed as he pulled a black credit card from his pocket. He offered it to her.

"This is for you," he said. "You can buy whatever you like—no limits."

"I can't," she said. "It's not mine."

"And yet it has your name on it," he said, flipping the card over to show her her name embossed in silver letters.

"I can't," she repeated.

"I'm going to take care of you," he said, his voice suddenly very serious.

She felt his fingers on her waist, and then his hand slipped into her dress pocket, and she knew he was giving her the card. She stared at him in confusion. Was this another trick? Or was he just a changeable man?

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he replied, slowly lowering his head to hers.