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Ruthless Revenge: Passionate Possession: A Virgin for Vasquez / A Marriage Fit for a Sinner / Mistress of His Revenge
Ruthless Revenge: Passionate Possession: A Virgin for Vasquez / A Marriage Fit for a Sinner / Mistress of His Revenge
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Ruthless Revenge: Passionate Possession: A Virgin for Vasquez / A Marriage Fit for a Sinner / Mistress of His Revenge

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How long had he been waiting for this moment? It felt like for ever as he gazed down at her rosy, flushed body, his breathing laboured as if he had just completed a marathon.

She was perfect.

Her skin was silky smooth, her breasts pert, inviting all sorts of wicked thoughts, and as his eyes drifted lower...

The soft, downy hair between her legs elicited a groan that sounded decidedly helpless.

So this was what it felt like...

This heady sense of power as she watched him watching her and losing control.

By the time she had married Roger, she had known the full scale of the mistake she had made, but she had still been young and naïve enough fundamentally to trust that the lectures from her parents about the follies of youth and the transitory nature of her attraction to the wrong man were somehow rooted in truth. She hadn’t, back then, been sure enough of herself to resist the wisdom of the two people she trusted and loved.

Surely time would make her see sense and make her forget Javier and the new, wonderful feelings he had roused in her?

It wasn’t as though she didn’t like Roger, after all...

But it hadn’t turned out that way. Neither of them had been able to find a way through all the muddy water under the bridge and she had discovered fast enough how easy it was for loathing to set in, forging a destructive path through affection and friendship.

She hadn’t turned him on and he, certainly, had never, ever had the sort of effect on her that Javier was now having.

It was suddenly very, very important that they do this. Would he walk away if he knew that she was a virgin? Was he hoping for someone experienced, as he doubtless assumed she was, who could perform all sorts of exciting gymnastics in bed?

In her head, she balanced the scales.

Alarm and disappointment with her if he found out that he was dealing with someone who might not live up to expectation...versus her embarrassment at having to come clean and tell him the truth about the marriage into which she should never have entered...

Which in turn would lead her down all sorts of uncertain routes. Because how else could she explain away her mistake without letting him know just how much she had felt for him all those years ago, how deeply she had fallen in love with him?

And, in turn, would that lead him to start thinking that she might just go and do the same again, after he had issued his warnings and told her that this was just sex and nothing more—no romance, no courtship and certainly no repeat performance of what they had once had?

‘I’ve never done this before.’ She couldn’t face the embarrassment of him pulling away, appalled that he had mistaken her for someone else, someone who might prove to be fun in bed instead of a novice waiting to be taught, guided only by instinct.

It took a few seconds for Javier to register what she had just said and he paid attention to her words only because of the tone in which they had been spoken.

He was still confused, though, as he pulled back to stare down at her.

‘You mean you’ve never had a one-night stand with an ex-flame?’

‘No.’ Face flaming with embarrassment, she wriggled into a sitting position and drew the duvet cover protectively over her, suddenly shy in the face of his probing dark eyes.

‘What, then?’ He had never talked so much in bed with any woman. Frustrated, he raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. ‘Do I need to get dressed to sit this one out?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘What I’m asking is...is this going to be a long conversation involving more confidence sharing? Should I make myself a pot of tea and settle down for the long haul?’

‘Why do you have to be so sarcastic?’ Sophie asked, stung.

‘Because,’ Javier pointed out coolly, ‘this should be a simple situation, Sophie. Once upon a time, there was something between us. Now there isn’t—aside, that is, from the small technicality that we never actually made it past the bedroom door. Indeed, we never made it even near the bedroom door. So here we are, rectifying that oversight before going our separate ways. I’m not sure that there’s anything much to talk about because it’s not one of those getting to know you exercises.’


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