The Disobedient Virgin

He would have to select one of those men to marry her.

To take her innocence.

To carry Catarina Mendes to his bed.

The knock at the door sounded again. Jake gave himself a little shake and opened it.

“Good evening, sir. I have your order here.”

No. He hadn’t ordered any of it. The woman, the will…

“Sir?”

“Yeah,” Jake said gruffly, and stepped aside.

CHAPTER FOUR

CATARINA had sworn she wouldn’t take a forkful.

She didn’t. She took shovelfuls.

Not right away, of course. First, she just stood by and watched as Jake pulled up a chair, uncovered half a dozen silver serving dishes, made a couple of appreciative umms and hmms and began heaping things on his plate.

By the time he’d tucked into what looked like a mushroom and cheese omelet, her belly was making unladylike noises. She colored, sure he could hear them, but he said nothing. He didn’t even look at her.

Was he going to eat everything in sight?

Catarina yanked out a chair and sat down opposite him. Jake picked up a plate, filled it and held it out.

“Thank you,” she said coldly, and took it.

God, she was starved! The omelet was wonderful. Mushroom and cheese, but there was bacon in it, too. The delicately fried potatoes were to die for, and the salad had something in the dressing—coconut?—that made each mouthful ambrosia.

She ate everything he’d served her plus two slices of buttered toast and a wedge of cheese. When he reached beneath the serving cart and produced a tulip glass filled with vanilla ice cream topped with strawberries, she vowed not to touch it. There was only the one serving; it was meant for her, and she knew it was the kind of treat an adult would order for a child.

The sooner he understood she wasn’t a child, the better.

But it looked so delicious, that cool mountain of vanilla. More than that, ice cream was a rare treat. Dessert at school had consisted of grainy puddings and stewed-to-the-point-of-death fruit.

Surely one mouthful wouldn’t hurt.

One. And then another and another. Before she knew it, the spoon clattered against the bottom of the glass. She twirled it around, captured the final sweet drops, licked them from the bowl of the spoon with the tip of her tongue…

And looked up and saw Jake watching her with burning eyes.

Something happened deep, deep in her belly. Heat, swift and sudden. Heat that spread through her blood, to her breasts.

Catarina’s breath caught. The spoon rattled against her plate. She broke eye contact and patted her lips with her napkin. When she looked up again, she knew she’d been hallucinating.

There was nothing in her guardian’s eyes but faint amusement.

“Feeling better?”

“It’s important to take proper nourishment,” she said stiffly.

A smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Words of wisdom from Mother Elisabete?”

“I don’t appreciate being made fun of, senhor.”