‘You lied?’ he said. ‘You were a virgin.’
‘I didn’t mean to lie... I just didn’t want you to stop,’ she said.
‘Did I hurt you?’ he said.
‘Not really,’ she said, the concern in his words striking right at the heart of all her insecurities. That it would matter to him, that he would care, felt huge when she knew it shouldn’t.
‘It’s a yes-or-no answer, Catherine,’ he said, his eyes dark with a torment she didn’t understand.
‘It only hurt for a moment. Then it felt very good.’
He nodded and then looked away. She took the opportunity to slip the robe back on, her body trembling with reaction, the sore spot between her thighs beginning to throb.
They’d just made love... He’d given her her first—and then her second—proper orgasm. But it had meant much more to her than it should—which had to be why this conversation felt far too intimate.
His jaw clenched, the tension in the hard muscles of his chest suggesting that he wanted to say something. For the first time he looked frustrated. Maybe he was annoyed with her after all. But he didn’t say anything and, as always, it was hard for her to tell what he was thinking.
Although she suspected it was probably along the same lines as what she was thinking. That this had been a very bad idea.
‘Do you need me to escort you back to the women’s quarters?’ he asked.
The dismissal felt like a blow. But she tried hard not to let the hurt show. She shook her head, scared she would give herself away if she spoke.
He pointed to a door on the opposite side of the chamber. ‘If you leave through there, one of the guards can show you the way.’
‘Okay,’ she managed past the boulder of grief in her throat, for all she’d lost—No, not lost... Thrown so carelessly away.
‘We can talk more about the repercussions of this tomorrow,’ he said, not unkindly. But still she felt compromised, and wobbly and hopelessly exposed.
She nodded, her throat raw.
Because what could there possibly be left to talk about now?
CHAPTER SIX
‘YOU CANNOT LEAVE, CATHERINE.’ Zane watched Catherine’s face flame, her eyes full of humiliation. And confusion.
‘But surely I must. I can’t possibly continue with the project if—’
‘Please let me finish.’ He held up his hand, struggling to control the swift kick of temper... And frustration.
He should not have touched her. Should not have given in to the hunger that had flared as soon as he’d heard her laughter coming from his mother’s old chamber. Because the possible repercussions of her innocence would now force his hand. And hers.
‘The project can continue,’ he said. She opened her mouth to deny this claim. ‘But the project is the very least of my concerns at this point.’
‘It is?’ She seemed astonished—and he wondered, not for the first time, why she put so little value on herself. She was a vibrant, beautiful woman; she’d given herself to him with no restraint, no hesitation last night. But he had seduced her. Not the other way around.
‘Certain facts from last night need to be addressed.’ He watched her response carefully, some of his anger dissipating when her brows launched up her forehead.
‘What facts?’ Either she was a better actress than his mother, or she was genuinely confused. The bitter cynicism tying his guts in knots began to ease. Whatever else this was, it hadn’t been a set-up.
‘In your research,’ he asked, because he needed to be sure, ‘did you read anything about the Laws of Marriage for the Sheikh?’
She shook her head, her glorious eyes widening.
‘You were untouched. As the Sheikh, if I take a woman to my bed who has never before known a man, Narabian law requires me to marry her and honour her as my Queen. It is an ancient tradition—brought in many centuries ago—to protect young girls in the Sheikh’s palace from being exploited.’
‘But I’m not that young, and you didn’t exploit me. You didn’t even know I was a virgin,’ she said, sounding a little frantic now.