The Disobedient Virgin by Sandra Marton

Author:Sandra Marton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mills & Boon Series Special Releases
Published: 2005-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

WHAT response could a man make to a woman who had said something so outrageous?

Almost two weeks later, Jake sat at his desk in his office, still clueless. He had a million things to do—phone calls to make, appointments to keep, a stack of letters waiting for his signature—but how could he concentrate on any of them?

All he could think about was what Cat had asked him that night.

He picked up a pencil, tapped it mindlessly against the edge of the desk as he recalled how he’d stared at her, tongue-tied for the first time in his life.

“Jake?” she’d said, as calmly as if she were talking about the weather. “Did you hear me? Will you teach me about sex? Or is that going to be a problem?”

A problem?

Snap!

The pencil broke in half. Jake reached for another, began tapping again.

The question had been bad enough. The brilliance of how he’d dealt with it had been even worse. He’d firmed his jaw, narrowed his eyes, pointed his finger straight at her…

And told her to go to her room.

He groaned at the memory.

Go to her room. As if she were a child instead of a woman. When the fact was, Cat was every bit a woman. All he had to do was close his eyes and he could feel her straddling him again, her body molding itself to his, her nipples sweet against his tongue while she made those little sounds that could surely drive a man insane.

Tap, tap, tap.

He hadn’t touched her again.

And she hadn’t mentioned her crazy plan again. Maybe because he wouldn’t give her the chance.

He came home each evening, said a polite “hello” and that was that. While they ate dinner he read through whatever he’d stuffed into his briefcase before leaving his office. Cat kept silent: he figured that had been the way meals were at the convent, and that was fine.

Dinner over, he excused himself, went up to his room and spent the rest of the evening there, working on his papers, catching up on his correspondence…

Jake swung his chair around and stared out the window.

Who was he kidding?

He didn’t do anything even resembling work. He stared at the walls, at the TV screen, at the day’s newspapers, at whatever might take his mind off the woman down the hall.

About how it was his responsibility to find her a husband.

About what she’d asked him to do.

How could she even suggest such a thing? He’d signed on to find her a husband, not to introduce her to sex—although the ugly truth was he’d come awfully close to doing exactly that.

But he’d been good the past two weeks. He hadn’t touched Cat. And he’d kept his promise to phone the guy he knew at the Brazilian Embassy. He’d met Lucas for drinks, explained the situation…

Well, no. Not all of it.

Why go into the complicated details? That he’d inherited responsibility for the ward of the man who’d sired him, and that he was charged with finding her the right husband.

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