She shook her head.

“Katrina?”

She kissed him deeply, but something had changed. There was a tension in her body that hadn’t been there before.

“You change your mind?” It might kill him, but she was entitled.

“No,” she insisted, kissing him again.

“Stop,” he ordered.

“You change your mind?” she asked.

“Of course not. Are you kidding me?” He drew away so that he could look her in the eyes. “Tell me.”

She clamped her jaw.

He knew he should leave the bed, but he couldn’t help hoping there was a simple explanation. Something other than the fact she had cold feet. Which he’d have to respect. A pithy swear word formed on his lips. But he kept it there. “You can say no, Katrina. I’ll be-”

“I’m a virgin,” she blurted out.

He reared back. “What?”

“I haven’t changed my mind. I’m just a little nervous.”

“What?” he repeated, unable to articulate anything more coherent.

She didn’t answer, just stared at him with those gorgeous blue eyes, looking more desirable, more forbidden, sexier than he could possibly be expected to stand.

“I want it to be you, Reed,” she whispered.

He tried to shake his head, but he couldn’t seem to make the simple motion. A better man would walk away. A better man would have stayed away in the first place. Up to this moment, he’d have claimed he was a better man.

Then she reached up to touch his cheek, her fingertips trembling ever so slightly. “I so want it to be you.”

Reed catapulted over the edge. He swooped in to kiss her, telling himself to be gentle, but losing the battle with instinct. His hands roamed the satin of her skin, lips trailing behind, kissing her everywhere, swearing to himself he was going to make it good for her, but unable to slow the pace of his desire.

He touched her again, fingers easing inside her hot, snug body, jolts of unadulterated lust ricocheting through every fiber of his being.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasped. He couldn’t stand the thought.

“You won’t,” she told him.

But he knew she was wrong. “I will.”

“Then just get it over with.”

“I don’t think so.” He brushed and stroked, until she relaxed, then squirmed beneath his hand. Her skin was flushed, and her breath was coming in quick pants.

Then he moved over her, didn’t give her a chance to tense and swiftly pushed in solid.

She gasped and reflexively jerked away from the invasion.

But he held her fast, gritting his teeth, forcing himself to still. “Sorry.”

“It’s-” She sucked in a couple of breaths. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” He kissed her gently, slowly, savoring the taste of her lips, holding his lust in check while he let her body get used to him.

Then she kissed him back. Her arms went around him. And her hips gently flexed.

He stroked her thighs, positioning her legs, moving slowly at first. Then, encouraged by her reaction, he increased the pace. She was hot and slick and gorgeous in his arms. Her scent surrounded him, while her breathing seemed to echo in his soul. He couldn’t stop tasting her, couldn’t stop touching her, as his primal brain kicked his body into an accelerating rhythm.

Heat flashed in front of his eyes, popping like colored fireworks. He braced an arm in the small of her back, tilting her toward him, as he kissed her deeply, thrusting his tongue in and out of her mouth. A roar in his ears rose like a freight train, obliterating everything else.

He barely heard her cry out his name. But her body shuddered, convulsing around him, and he surrendered to paradise.

The world came slowly back into focus, and he realized he had to be crushing her.

“I’m sorry,” he shifted.

“No!” She tightened her hold. “Don’t move.”

“You okay?” He pushed his weight onto his elbows, freeing a hand to brush her damp, messy hair back from her face.

“I’m not sure.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“Little bit.”

“Little bit?” he pressed. “But not a big bit?”

She mustered a smile, and he couldn’t resist kissing it. Then he braced her body against his.

“Hold still for a minute,” he instructed. “Let me do the work.” He gently rolled onto his back, bringing her with him until she was on top, and there was no danger of him squishing her. Her slight weight felt good against him.

“You can stay there just as long as you like,” he told her.

“Really?” She pulled back far enough to look him in the eyes. Her gaze was soft on his, voice barely above a whisper. “Because that might be a very, very long time.”

“No problem.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across her swollen lips. “It’ll be two, maybe three days before they come looking.”

He’d happily keep her in his bed that long and longer. He didn’t know what had happened, or more accurately, what had not happened in her past: why she’d waited, or why she’d picked him. But right now nothing mattered except that she had.


“I went to an all-girls school,” Katrina found herself explaining, still draped across Reed’s naked body. She’d hate him to think there was something wrong with her. “From when I was ten all the way to college. I mean, we saw the boys from the affiliated school occasionally. But it wasn’t as if we had time to get to know them.”

“Are you saying you didn’t date in high school?”

“I didn’t date in high school,” she confirmed.

She slowly slid from his body to his side and let her cheek rest on his shoulder.

He settled a wool blanket over them.

“And then I went to the college affiliated with Liberty Ballet,” she continued. “I’ve been really busy with my dancing career. So, you know, even though I live in New York City, and my social life is quite active with all the events and parties-”

“Katrina?”

“What?”

“Are you apologizing for being a virgin?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I’m not apologizing.” Exactly. “I’m telling you it wasn’t my fault.”

His body rumbled with laughter, and his lips brushed the top of her head. “You don’t understand men at all.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” The man was exasperating.

“Yeah?” His tone turned serious. “Well, listen up, Katrina. Because I understand men perfectly.”

“Bully for you.”

“You’ve got it all wrong.”

“I’ve got what all wrong?”

“How I’m feeling. What I’m thinking.”

“Okay, what are you feeling and thinking?”

He seemed to choose his words, his tone deep near her ear. “I’m feeling privileged and proud. I’m thinking someday, a long time from now, when I’m very old and very tired, and there’s nothing left of my life, I’ll be remembering this night, and you, and that I was the first.”

Something flip-flopped Katrina’s stomach. She drew back, tipping her chin so that she could gauge his expression. “That’s a really great line, Reed.”

“Thank you.”

“Ever used it before?”

“Of course not. How can you ask that?”

So he was serious? He’d be thinking of her on his deathbed? She had no idea how to respond, so she laid her head back down on his shoulder and just breathed for a few minutes.

Reed spoke first. “But is there something wrong with all the men in New York City?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Because I was with you all of five minutes before I realized I’d never be able to keep my hands off you.”

“Five minutes?” She couldn’t help but be pleased to hear that.

“Did they ask you on dates and you turned them down?”

“Five minutes?” she repeated.

“Focus, Katrina.”

“I am focusing.”

“The men? In New York City?”

She gave up. It was really just her ego that wanted him to admit it anyway. “Some asked for dates,” she admitted. “Most I turned down. The others didn’t really work out. And Quentin Foster, well he just skipped right to the proposition.”

“Quentin Foster.”

“Just a guy,” said Katrina, regretting even saying the man’s name out loud.

“Did you meet him at one of your fancy parties?”

She shook her head. “He’s on the board of directors for Liberty. I’ve known him for a while. He’s a big contributor, and people kowtow to him. I don’t think he has much of a life outside the ballet company, because he’s always hanging around. He comes to rehearsals. And he’s forever closeted with the ballet company director discussing… I don’t know what they discuss, funding, I guess.”

Reed came up on his elbow. “And he propositioned you?”

She scrunched her face up in a grimace. “Yes.”

“As in solicited sex?”

“Is there another kind of proposition?”

Reed blinked several times. “A man in a position of power over you actually asked you to sleep with him?”

She came up on her elbow, mirroring his posture. “Is there something confusing about the way I’m putting this?”

“You said no,” Reed confirmed.

“Absolutely. Quentin had hinted around for months, and I tried to ignore him and avoid him. But then one day, he cornered me, and came right out with it, and I said no.”

“Good for you.”

“Thank you.”

“What did he do then?”

She dropped her head back down on the pillow. “He was upset.”

Reed waited.

Katrina didn’t feel like lying, and she didn’t feel like dressing it up, so she told Reed the truth. “He told me he could be a valuable friend, but I didn’t want him as an enemy.”

“When was this?” Reed’s voice had gone cold.

“About three weeks ago. And then those strange things-” She caught herself. It was wild, paranoid speculation. It didn’t even deserve to be said out loud.

“Strange things?” Reed’s voice went cold. “You’re talking about the cables and your ballet shoes.”

“No,” she lied.

“Then what?”

“I’m not going to tell you. It’s too crazy. I’m too crazy. Everything’s fine.”

He laid his head down on the pillow, touching his forehead to hers. His voice went low again. “You have to tell me.”

“Why?”

“This is pillow talk. All secrets are revealed during pillow talk.”

“This isn’t a secret.”

“Good. Then there’s no reason not to tell me.”

“It’s silly.”

He shrugged. “Then who cares if you tell me or not?”

She heaved a heavy sigh. “Fine. But you can’t laugh. And you can’t call me a princess.”

“I’m going to call you a princess whether you tell me what’s on your mind or not.” He brushed a few stray hairs from her cheek. “I like calling you princess. You should take it as a compliment.”

“It’s not a compliment. You’re telling me that I’m spoiled.”

“But in a delightful, exotic, sexy way.”

“Ha!”

“Tell me the whole story, Katrina.”

“Fine. He propositioned me a few times. And then he phoned me here and asked me if I’d thought about his offer. I told him I wouldn’t change my mind.”

“And when did your ballet shoe fail?”

“Why are you giving me the third degree?” It wasn’t as if she’d done anything wrong.

“When did you hurt your ankle?”

“Can we back to kissing or something?” She really didn’t want to talk about this.

“Give me the chronology.”

“No.”

Reed ignored her answer. “First, he propositions you. You say no. You narrowly miss some cables. He asks again. You say no. Your shoe fails and you’re injured. He asks again. You say no…”

“That’s the most far-fetched theory I’ve ever heard.”

“No. That’s what you’re thinking yourself.”

“There’s absolutely no way-”

“Did someone check the shoes afterward?”

“I threw them away.”

Reed raised a meaningful brow.

Katrina understood his suspicions. “I have a dozen pairs of ballet shoes. Nobody could have guessed which ones I’d use that day.” But she was convincing herself as much as she was convincing Reed.

He seemed to ponder that information.

She wasn’t going to buy into any kind of paranoia. “Those were accidents, coincidences.”

Reed slowly smiled. “Okay,” he agreed.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She let her body relax, trailing her fingertips across his chest. “I shouldn’t have said anything. We were having fun, and I messed it up.”

Reed slipped his arms around her, drawing her close, speaking against her ear. “You were right to say something. You should always tell me when something goes wrong. Have I mentioned that I know how to fix things?”

“There’s nothing to fix.”

“Maybe not.”

“Maybe the shoes, if I still had them.”

Reed chuckled, and Katrina forced the theory from her mind. There was no connection between Quentin and the accidents. He hadn’t even called again. Clearly, he’d given up. She could relax and stop worrying. When she went back to New York City, everything would be fine.

Seven