Page 116 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8

And softly, tentatively, she did.

She gasped, and he pulsed. Everywhere.

Her eyes flew wide open. She withdrew the heat of her palm instantly. And its loss made the hard length of him ache in ways he’d forgotten were possible.

‘My body enjoyed kissing you,’ he admitted roughly.

She looked up at him from behind lowered lashes. ‘But your brain didn’t?’ she asked.

‘No.’

‘So you froze,’ she guessed. ‘On purpose?’

‘Yes.’

Her gaze narrowed.‘Why?’

‘Just because an opportunity arises to kiss someone doesn’t mean you should,’ he said. ‘Kissing involves touching, feeling.’

‘And you don’t want to feel, do you? Emotionally or physically. You don’t want to get attached,’ she said, answering her own questions.

He nodded. He’d already told her these things. He didn’t need to explain further.

‘I made you feel, didn’t I?’

He lifted his gaze to her face, to her mouth. And heat flooded him in places he hadn’t thought could be heated.

He did not want toneedher mouth.

But he did.

And the way she looked at him. All too knowing.

Tension flooded his jaw.

She said, ‘I made you—’

‘Want,’ he growled. ‘And I have wanted nothing, and no one, for longer than you have been alive.’

She frowned. ‘You haven’t wanted anyone?’

‘No.’

‘Haven’t touched or kissed anyone?’

‘No,’ he answered. He would have shrugged his shoulders, but his body was so tight, held so rigid. ‘I’m a virgin.’

She blinked rapidly. ‘You’re a virgin?’

‘Yes,’ he answered. He felt no shame. It had been necessary, was necessary. Besides, he knew the truth of it. His body might be untouched, but his mind had seen far too much, had been broken beyond repair before he’d even hit puberty. ‘I’m as inexperienced as you.’

The silence that followed was not unpleasant or pleasant. It was…thoughtful. Her eyes were too gentle. She looked at him, and he let her look. He knew she would understand. He was a man with needs. He was inexperienced because he was a man who did notwantto need such things. He did not want to feel the loss of them. Human contact. Touch. He had made the choice to abstain.

‘Why did you come here?’ she asked.

‘The same reason as you,’ he answered. ‘To be alone.’

‘But why the auction?’ she asked. ‘Why come here on the anniversary of your family’s death?’