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I shake my head. “I don’t know what that means, Jayson.”

He lifts his head so that our gazes lock. “I want you, Harper. I want to touch every inch of you, to learn all your secret places, to watch you come apart in my arms. Se thelo.”

Jayson’s words are like ice water tossed in my face for some reason. “Why?” I ask in a distant tone, pulling away.

He frowns, a line appearing between his dark eyebrows. His eyes are stormy, his breathing heavy. “You are a beautiful woman. My woman. I want to make love to you.”

I take another step back. “You told me once that you would never want me, Jayson. Don’t you remember? On our wedding night, you made it one hundred percent crystal clear that you didn’t desire me and would never want me in your bed. What changed your mind?”

He stares at me, mouth agape. I dig my fingernails into my palms to keep from turning into a screeching banshee. Three years of hurt and anger I thought were gone are threatening to explode, but I refuse to let him see how deeply his past rejection affected me.

“Nothing’s changed, has it, Jayson? I’m just a warm body, conveniently available.” My shoulders sag when he doesn’t reply. “Good night, Jayson.” This time, he lets me go without trying to call me back, to my mingled relief and disappointment. My heart aches and all I want is to forget about this night and to rid the memory of his kisses from my mind and body.

Rushing into the nursery, I strip off the expensive

evening gown and toss it away before slipping into my nightgown and crawling into bed. Shivers rack my body, though the night is warm. It’s my body’s way of processing what just happened, alongside what happened three years ago.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of our wedding night, but unable to do it. As I’ve done so many times in our marriage, once again, I relive that night’s events in my mind.

As planned, ours was a simple civil ceremony in front of a justice of the peace, with Sophie as the only guest. Jayson’s way of announcing the marriage was to host a reception following the ceremony, and the house was crowded with guests. By the time the evening wound to a close, I was exhausted.

I made my way upstairs to the suite the housekeeper had shown me before the ceremony, while asking how I wanted my clothes arranged. The austere room suited Jayson, with its massive antique furnishings, dark brown carpet, and beige walls. The room wasn’t romantic or passionate, but I assumed that was just decor, and once Jayson and I started making love I would see it that way.

I bathed, shaved, moisturized, and slipped into a nearly transparent white negligee. The color was appropriate for a virgin bride, although the style was anything but innocent. Lost in the sea of garments at the boutique where I’d selected it, along with many pieces of my new wardrobe, I’d deferred to the salesclerk’s suggestion. Examining myself in the mirror, I nodded my approval, deciding the lingerie gave me an air of virginal sophistication I sorely lacked.

Will Jayson be pleased or disappointed to find out I’m still a virgin? I wondered. At the age of twenty, I was only one of a few young women in my circle who hadn’t yet gone to bed with a man. Not that I was some kind of prude, but I also didn’t want to jump into bed with just any man, and none of the boys I’d dated had come close to tempting me to go that far.

Not one had measured up to Jayson.

A faint smile curved my lips. I was happy to admit that I loved Jayson and had done so for years, and now he was mine. He was the standard to which I held all other men, and none had been equal. Sure, the circumstances of the marriage were tragic, but I was determined to make the best of the opportunity. By the end of the marriage contract, I hoped Jayson would love me as much as I loved him, and that our arrangement would become permanent.

A colony of butterflies danced in my stomach as I opened the bathroom door to enter the bedroom. Jayson was standing a few feet away, in the process of unknotting his tie. At first, he didn’t look at me, and I stood before him, feeling exposed in more ways than one. A chill in the air made me shiver, but I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around my body to warm myself, and also to hide my skin.

When he did look at me, his eyes widened with surprise. For a moment, his gaze flicked lower, but quickly returned to mine. “Did the housekeeper show you your room?”

I frowned. “No. She put my things in here.”

Jayson nodded. “We’ll be sharing a dressing room.”

“Oh.” Confusion swirled through me. “Do you prefer to sleep alone?”

His abrupt answer should have told me all I needed to know. “Yes.”

My naiveté made me push forward. Thinking he didn’t want to scare me, I thought maybe he was waiting for me to make the first move. A deep breath gave me courage, and I stepped close to him, putting a hand on his chest.

My husband stiffened, his expression darkening. “What are you doing, Harper?”

I licked dry lips. “I…I don’t know. I thought you wanted me to…”

His motion was gentle, but the action was brutal as he took my hand from his chest and stepped away from me. “No, I don’t want you to do anything. I shouldn’t have assumed we were in agreement on this…aspect of marriage. I expect nothing from you.”

My lips parted in a small gasp. “I didn’t realize.”

He nodded. “I know. It’s an understandable mistake.” Jayson waved a hand downward to indicate my body. “I appreciate the effort, but sex will complicate everything and for no reason.”

I nodded, trying not to betray my hurt and shock. “Yes,” I said, voice trembling.

“Your room is through that door.” He gestured to it, and I turned, desperate to escape his presence. I was a few steps from the door when he called my name. I paused, turning back to look at him. “Just so we’re clear, Harper, I won’t be changing my mind in the future. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about any of this.”