The Disobedient Virgin

He was a beautiful man.

Was that a strange word to use? Perhaps, but no other word fit. Jake was gorgeous. Dark, thick hair. Long, sooty lashes. She knew girls who’d cheerfully kill for lashes like that. A straight nose, that full, lush mouth and strong chin…

Michelangelo couldn’t have done better.

Catarina leaned closer. Inhaled. Drew in the combined scents of soap, water and man. It was sexy. Incredibly sexy…and it was time to move away. Lie back on her side of the bed. Try and get some sleep.

But first, first…

She caught her lip between her teeth. Lowered her hand until it hovered above Jake’s chest. Lowered it again until her palm just brushed his shirt. The shirt was cotton. Thin. The fabric was almost transparent. She could see the outline of his pectoral muscles, his ridged abdomen.

She didn’t need to touch him after all. The shirt gave her all the answers she needed.

She touched him anyway. Laid her palm flat against his chest. Felt the heat of him, the strength, the strong beat of his heart.

Her heart was beating hard, too. It was racing. She leaned closer. Closer still. Until her lips were a whisper from Jake’s. Closed her eyes, traced the outline of that hard, masculine mouth with the tip of her finger. Left her finger there, lying lightly across his lips.

His beautiful lips.

What if he woke? Found her doing this? It could be dangerous. He could lose control. Men did, didn’t they? The sisters had said so.

He might grasp her shoulders, roll her beneath him. Tear open her nightgown, clasp her wrists high above her head, hold her captive while he kissed her. Rubbed that sexy stubble on his jaw lightly against her throat.

Her breasts.

Her nipples.

Her nipples, tighten

ing even as she closed her eyes and imagined it happening. God. Oh, God. Oh…

Jake’s mouth twitched under her hand. Heart pounding, Catarina pulled away, as far as the length of silk would permit. She fell back against the pillows and lay still.

Was he awake?

He didn’t move. Neither did she. After a minute, after an eternity, she turned her head and stared at him.

He was still asleep.

She let out a long, shaky breath. What had possessed her? Had she lost her mind?

She was tired. That was what it was. She was exhausted. That was the only reason she wanted—she wanted—

Catarina squeezed her eyes shut. And tumbled into a deep, dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER FIVE

HOW long could a man pretend to be asleep before he lost his mind?

Jake forced himself to lie still until Catarina’s slow, soft breathing told him she was sleeping. Then he untied their wrists, rolled off the bed and damned near staggered out the door.

Was she crazy?

Being naïve was one thing, but a woman who bent over a sleeping man so that her hair fell around him like a silk curtain, who came so near that he could draw the feminine scent of her deep into his lungs, wasn’t naïve, she was out of her mind.

Jake groaned, sank down in a chair and buried his head in his hands.

She’d touched his face. His chest. He’d figured his heart would leap out right then, but he’d hung on until she began tracing his mouth with her finger, and he’d imagined what it would be like to part his lips, draw that finger into his mouth…