He placed her in her chair at the dining table and served her a small bowl of oatmeal with fresh fruit and a dollop of cream on top. She lowered her head and ate slowly, trying to avoid his gaze from across the table.

"You should stay at home until your wounds heal," he said over his newspaper.

​​

"But I already have plans," she said. "I'm supposed to meet a friend." 

"Well, cancel it," he said. "Or tell her that she can meet you here."

She bit the inside of her mouth to keep from shouting at him. After her ordeal with Iris, her patience had worn thin. Sean could play attentive husband all he wanted, but she was furious at his efforts to control her. Didn't he have any shame at all?

"Fine," she snapped.

Another silence filled the dining room. Besides the clink of his cup against the saucer and the rustle of his newspaper, the room was quiet. She sat uncomfortably at her seat, wondering if she could excuse herself.

"By the way," Sean said without lowering his paper. "Marco's gone." 

"Okay," she said. "Good." 

He lowered his paper and stared at her, a strange and confused expression in his eyes. She avoided his gaze and looked out the window at the sloping green lawns and the rose bushes.

"I'm done eating," she finally said, slowly standing. "Enjoy the rest of your breakfast." 

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "But I can manage on my own." 

He sighed and stood, leaving his teacup half full on the table. Without a word, he crossed the room and picked her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style into the hall.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked. "Do you want to rest in bed? Watch TV? Read something outside?"

Sulkily she said nothing. He sighed and carried her into the library, but instead of propping her up on the sofa, he sat down and held her on his lap.

"Honey," he whispered against her ear. "Why are you angry with me?" 

"I'm not angry with you," she said, trying to keep her voice flat and emotionless.

"That's not true," he said.

"It is," she insisted, staring at the marble fireplace across the room.

"I can see it all over your face," he said.

He placed a hand on the back of her head and turned her face toward him. His forehead was just inches from hers, and his eyes moved up and down, taking in her expression. Slowly, his eyes lingered on her lips. Without thinking, she leaned in a little closer to him. His warm breath blew across her mouth, and his lips brushed very gently against hers.

She pulled away as if electrocuted, but he held her in place on his lap.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"We can't," she said, struggling to get off his lap. "It isn't right."

"We're married," he whispered, pulling her closer. "What could be more right than this?" 

His large warm hand caressed the bare skin on her back and played with her bra's thin strap. She squirmed and struggled on his lap, and suddenly his arms wrapped around her, pulling her so tight she could hardly breathe. She squirmed again, and his lips pressed against her shoulder.

"Don't move," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Why not?" she asked, frightened.

"I'm trying to control myself," he whispered. "But you're making it very difficult." 

Suddenly she noticed the bulge in his pants pressed up against her pelvis. She froze in horror. While trying to escape, she must have been rubbing against his crotch. Embarrassed and uncomfortable, she looked away.

"Don't act so surprised," he whispered. "How else am I supposed to react when there's a beautiful woman in my arms?"

She bit her lip and turned to look at him. His eyes were blazing with desire, but his jaw was clenched with self-control. Her stomach fluttered, but she couldn't look away. Some strange instinct in her told her to lean forward and press her lips to his jaw, soften in his arms, and let him have what she wanted. Shocked at herself, she bit her lip harder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to—" 

"Shh," he said, pulling her even closer.

She could feel his chest expand and contract with every rapid breath he took. She was so close that she could feel his heart pounding against her chest. She barely breathed, afraid that any motion would set him off. He gave her a questioning look and then gently pressed his lips to her bare shoulder. She stiffened, and he moved his head, planting small kisses along her shoulder and up her neck.

"Please don't be angry with me," he whispered, gently taking her earlobe between his teeth.

She gasped. Something hot and electric ran through her body—shooting from the sensitive earlobe to her toes. Without meaning to, she arched her back and shifted in his lap. A low satisfied sound came from deep within his throat, and he nibbled her ear again.

"Stop," she gasped.

"Why?" he asked against her neck. "Are you still angry?"

"No," she said. "I mean yes, I mean—"

His teeth grazed her neck, and she gasped again. Her body tingled, but she didn't have time to react because his lips were moving again, biting and nipping in a line along the side of her neck and up to her ear. Slowly, he pulled away and gazed at her. His eyes were a dazzling blue, filled with barely restrained desire.

"Don't be angry," he murmured.

"I'm not angry," she said without thinking. Hearing the words out loud shocked her to her senses. Had she really just forgiven him? She tried to pull away.

"But you're afraid," he said, his eyes darkening. "Don't be afraid of me. I won't hurt you." 

"I'm not afraid," she lied.

"That's not true," he said, his voice low and sad. "Tell me the truth." 

Her stomach twisted, and she looked down.

"What is it?" he asked, gently lifting her head again.

"It's just—it's just that I'm a virgin," she finally said.

As she said the words out loud, she wondered if they were true. Before she was reborn, she'd slept with Marco and his boss countless times. Each time it had been painful and humiliating and horrible. She shuddered at the mere memories.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked, something like wonder in his eyes.

She nodded. 

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Dearest Lovies,

Today, a mass release day, as I promised earlier. Allow me to great you a prosperous new year. Xīnnián kuàilè. Gong Xi Fa Cai! 

Love Lots, 

Anna Shannel Lin