The Disobedient Virgin

Jake took a step forward. “Don’t start tossing legal crap at me. Catarina is my responsibility. I make decisions for her, not you.”

“Jake.” Cat’s voice was low. “Jake, listen to me—”

“Be quiet,” Jake said sharply.

“Watch how you speak to my fiancée, Ramirez.”

“She’s not your anything until I say she is.”

“Jake.” Catarina put her hand on his arm. “Please. We discussed this, remember? You and I agreed—”

“Let’s just assume I give my permission for this marriage,” Jake said, shaking off Cat’s hand. “Exactly how do you propose to convince her to make it real? Are you going to sit her down, talk her to death?”

“Catarina has agreed to remain married to me for six months.”

“The hell she will!”

“At the end of that time, if she still insists on divorce—”

“You want to sleep with her,” Jake said bluntly.

“If you mean, I want to make love to my wife,” Lucas said coldly, “you’re right.”

“She’ll never go along with it.” Jake leveled his gaze on Catarina. “Tell him,” he said. “Go on, damn it. Tell him you won’t sleep with him.”

“We were fools to think an honorable man would agree to marry and divorce me in a heartbeat, Jake.”

“You call Estero honorable? What kind of a son of a bitch would demand you climb into his bed?”

Lucas dropped Cat’s hand. “Be careful what you say, Ramirez.”

“It isn’t like that,” Cat said quickly. “He won’t ask me to do anything I don’t want to do.”

“He’s a liar,” Jake growled. “He wants to take you to bed. All the rest is window-dressing.”

Lucas stepped in front of Catarina. “You will not speak to Catarina that way.”

“I’ll speak to her any way I like.”

“Keep this up,” Lucas said softly, “and I’m going to ask you to step outside.”

Catarina knew she would never forget Jake’s smile as long as she lived.

“Why step outside?” he said, and swung a hard right that sent Lucas crumpling to the floor.

Cat didn’t want to leave.

Not with him.

What she wanted was to sit on the floor beside Lucas and cradle his head in her lap even after he’d opened his eyes.

Jake wasn’t having any of it.

Estero would live. His jaw would be black and blue and maybe a little swollen; his pride was definitely wounded, but he’d be fine. Jake hung around just long enough to be sure. Then he apologized to Lucas—not for punching him, but for taking a swing without warning him first.

Lucas rubbed his jaw, looked at Cat, gave Jake a strange, tight smile and said he understood.

“Well, I don’t,” Cat said furiously. “He hits you for no good reason, you’re lying in a heap, and you tell him you understand?”