Page 14 of Taking The Virgin

“Long ago. He puts in more hours thanmost.”

“Oh. All right.” I realize that I’m fine with him being gone. No awkward goodbyes, no reminders of how things ended on such a chillynote.

So then why is my heart sinking in my chest?

Because he was your first, I think. You’re never going to forget him, no matter how things turnedout.

Nat goes on. “Dr. Gregory’s left a check for you for the full amount of the payment, and as agreed, your travel will be taken careof.”

So I did do my job, and I didn’t disappoint. At least I can take that as a consolation—as well as the fifty thousand dollars. That cheers me up ever so slightly, because now I’ll be that much closer to getting my brothers and sistersback.

“Thank you.” I rise from the lounge. “What time is my flight?”

Nat laughs. “Whenever you want it to be. Dr. Gregory’s private company jet is at your disposal to take you back to Florida.”

I widen my eyes. Saywhat?

He’s treating me as if I really pleased him last night, and maybe I did. Wait—I know I did, at least sexually, but I have the strange feeling Dr. Owen Gregory just has no idea how to express that to me or maybe to anyone.

“Thanks again, Nat. I’ll be down as soon as I get myself together.” I try to smile. “And I’d like it if we could eat breakfast together, if that’s possible. Isit?”

“I think that could be arranged, Miss Hope.” She sounds happy that I asked.

That cheers me a little more—every bit counts—and by the time I pack up my meager belongings, clean up, and get dressed, she’s set a table in the sunny breakfast room on the first floor. The private chef has whipped up an Italian Eggs Benedict with a kiwi, blueberry, and raspberry side dish, along with yogurt, strawberry muffins, and a selection of teas. As we devour the delicious meal, Nat steers clear of anything that has to do with last night or Highest Bidder. She’d rather ask me about my time in college and what sort of art I love as well as my favorite music and literature.

I tell her that there’s a romantic side of me that’s partial to pre-Raphaelite paintings and Degas, that I’m into Lord Huron and old-school Sting, and that I’ll read anything although my heart belongs to poetry. She’s partial to Jackson Pollock, loves jazz, and wishes she had more time toread.

It seems that the only thing we don’t talk about is my night with Owen, but when we’ve both had our fill of food, I glance at her a little longer than before. She seems so warm and so open that I decide to ask something I’ve been wondering since the master of this house won me in the auction.

“Do you end up having breakfasts with a lot of Highest Bidder girls?” Iask.

She hesitates, then merely smiles that pleasant smile. I know that’s all I’m going to get from her, although there’s something about her expression that lets me know that I might have been the only one who’s ever asked her to breakfast.

When it’s time for me to leave, she walks me to the door, and before I go, I impetuously hug her. She embraces meback.

“I hope all your dreams come true,” she whispers to me. And as we pull apart, she hands me an envelope with the check init.

There’s nothing more to say as I depart, walking toward the waiting limo that’s going to take me to the privatejet.

During the drive, I sink down into the plush leather seat, watching the city streets go by. I don’t feel like the Juliet Hope who arrived in Manhattan just yesterday. I’m sadder yet more experienced. I’m in a bittersweet mood because I got what I needed—thousands of dollars to kick-start a new life for me and my brothers and sisters.

The experience really could have gone a lot worse than it did but, somehow, I wantedmore…

At the executive airport, the jet is ready and waiting for me, and my gaze widens as I take in how big it is—probably the size of a hotel suite.

I’m escorted to the aircraft by a man in a black suit and a Bluetooth earpiece who looks like he might be some sort of security person. I don’t give that too much thought as I climb the stairs to the plane. All I have with me is what I came with—my light duffel bag, my coat, and my firm optimism about what I can do for my family. But I feel like I’m leaving something major behind.

My first time, and it was with a man I’m never going to forget…

After taking my phone and earbuds out of my bag so I can listen to one of my playlists during the trip, I step into the jet, expecting to be greeted by a flight attendant. But when I see who’s actually waiting for me in one of the lavish seats, my pulse tangles.

Owen Gregory stands up to greet me, dressed in one of his finely creased tailor-made suits, just as impeccable and breathtaking asever.

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