Page 39 of Taking The Virgin

His emotions were messy in front of me, and it’s time to wash thataway.

He glances back at the chair, as if battling the urge to start cleaning it now, but in a fit of need, I grab hishand.

As he looks back down at me, I see the war going on in his dark eyes—compulsion versus me. Which one will win tonight? And even if I’m the winner for now, will I come out the loser in theend?

When he entwines his fingers with mine, my hopes soar. I know my gaze is asking him a question I don’t dare say outloud.

Will you stay withme?

The war continues in him, but the longer it goes on, the more my chest wells with sorrow. Maybe I can’t win this. Maybe he isn’t capable of letting go of whatever hauntshim.

He bends down to kiss my forehead, then tucks me in a little more. All the while my heart breaks.

“Goodnight, Juliet,” he says against my forehead.

And then he’s gone, just as he alwaysis.

I don’t fall asleep. My head is foggy with memories of how it used to be with us, back when I thought he was an ogre, back before our new contract went into effect.

I’m once again bewildered and stinging because ofhim.

But somehow I make it through the night. The next morning begins my usual routine.

Get out of bed and prepare for theday.

Eat breakfast.

Get ready to work with the bank, make calls to social services and ancillary organizations, my lawyer, etc., try to get in touch with whichever of my siblings is available to speak.

But when the afternoon rolls around, my routine is thrown off course.

Owen comes home from work much earlier than usual.

Nat is the one who tells me he’s here, and I excitedly leave everything at the desk in the den where I’ve been working.

He’s home! Early. What does thatmean?

I’m almost out of the room when my phone rings, stopping me cold, because it’s the ringtone I assigned to my lawyer.

Torn, I stand there for a second, but I know what I have todo.

I go back to the desk to take the call. Just as I lift up the phone, I see Owen appear in the doorway.

He’s actually smiling a little, dressed in one of his perfect suits and filling it out with every hard muscle on his amazing body. He looks happy to seeme.

But I’m already answering. “Hello?”

“Juliet? This is Edgar. I’ve got some troublingnews.”

Owen’s smile fades as he watches me. He must see the terror on my face, because he tenses up. He still doesn’t want the chaos of my emotions, but I can’t hide them as my lawyer goeson.

“The foster parents who are taking care of Jasmine are trying to stop you from getting herback.”

Jasmine, my youngest. My eleven-year-old sister. The one who called me on the jet because she missed our parents and me so badly.

As the news sinks in, I feel sick, and I slump down into the nearest seat because my legs won’t hold me up. I lose my cool in front of Owen, whose expression has gone blank as he folds his hands behind hisback.

Then my lawyer puts the nail in the coffin. “They want to try and adopt her, Juliet.”

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