‘I didn’t think it was important,’ she said, which was true. She’d always considered her lack of experience had no bearing on who she was as a person. Because it didn’t. If she’d grown up like most teenagers—who got to socialise in big groups—instead of being home-schooled on Moira and knowing so few eligible boys, surely she would have lost her virginity sooner?
‘You should have told me you were innocent,’ he said, his jaw rigid. ‘I wouldn’t have touched you.’
Ellie stiffened, the accusatory glare wrong on so many levels she didn’t even know where to start.
Temper burned in her chest, going some way to cover the brutal feeling of vulnerability at his cold expression.
‘Well, I’m no innocent any more, so there’s no need to worry about it,’ she snapped, the last of her cool deserting her. What exactly was he suggesting—that she’d somehow connived to have him take her virginity? To what purpose, for goodness’ sake? She was the one with beard burn in some unfortunate places now, not him! ‘And if you wanted me to stay so you could insult me, you can go to hell.’
She turned, ready to march out of the apartment.
‘Oh, no you don’t...’ He caught her in two strides. ‘You tricked me into becoming more involved than I want to, and I want to know why.’
‘Tricked...?’She stared at him, so astonished by the accusation and the barely leashed fury behind it, she was speechless.
‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ he scoffed. ‘You wanted me to feel responsible for you. And now I do. So job done. Now I want to know what you expect to get out of that.’
‘You’re no responsible for me,’ she hissed, bracing her forearms against his chest, trying to push him away. But it was like pushing against a brick wall. A very stubborn brick wall. ‘My virginity is my business, no yours.’
‘Not any more it’s not,’ he said, but then he grasped her chin and lifted her face to his.
But just as she was about to demand he release her,again, the colour drained from his face.
He swore, releasing her so suddenly she stumbled backwards.
‘That imperfection in your left eye...’ he murmured, staring at her as if she’d grown an extra head. ‘You’re one ofthem.’
‘One of what?’
He didn’t look annoyed any more, he looked stunned. But why had the patch of brown in her left iris she had been born with triggered that shocked reaction?
‘You want me to introduce you to Roman. That’s it, isn’t it?’ He raked his fingers through his hair, furrowing the waves into haphazard rows. ‘You thought if you threw yourself at me, got me to take your virginity, you could trick me—and him—into believing his sister is alive.’
‘I don’t have the first clue what you’re talking about,’ she sputtered, her outrage and indignation no longer anaesthetising her against the humiliation and, worse, the hurt. Whatever he was accusing her of now, he despised her for it...
‘You think you’re the first of them to try and go through me? You’re not. But I’ve got to give you credit, you’re the first one I ever fell for. The virginity was a stroke of genius.’
Her mind reeled, struggling to make sense of the brittle accusations.
‘How much?’
‘What?’ She stepped away from him. He had gone mad. That much was obvious.
‘How much do you want to leave Roman the hell alone?’
She shook her head, the foolish tears stinging her eyes now, and scouring her throat.
He yanked his wallet out of his back pocket, counted out the bills, thrust them towards her.
‘I’ve got five hundred on me.’ His gaze skated over her again, scathing this time, and all the more painful for it. ‘I can wire you another five grand. You were more than worth it.’
The humiliation engulfed her. She stared at the wad of bills.
‘You bastard,’ she whispered, then turned and ran. She had to get away from him, before she let a single tear fall.
‘Five and a half grand is my final offer.’ The cruel shout chased her down the hallway.
She hated him, but she hated herself more. For caring, even for a moment, what he thought.