Throwing off the covers, I dashed for the bathroom. This was impossible! There was no way in hell that I would have married a werewolf. I had to get a grip and think.
What happened last night?
I’d put on my little black dress after an argument with Zane and had gone to one of the hotel’s in-house clubs for some live music.
Drinks. Lots and lots of drinks. Men had kept buying them for me, and I’d kept drinking.
Valamir — the vampire — he’d dazzled my mind with some form of vamp magic and kissed me. After that, everything got fuzzy.
My reflection caught my attention, reminding me of my horrible predicament. Dear Lord. The mirror revealed an exhausted-looking woman with dark half-moons under both eyes. I shook my head. The reflection shook hers. No doubt about it — I was the bedraggled woman in the mirror.
One thing was clear; I didn’t look anything like a blissful newlywed.
I was miserable inside and out. Besides the blistering headache, my stomach was churning, and I felt all wobbly. Even worse, if what Zane said was true, I was no longer a virgin, and I didn’t even remember my wedding night.
“Babe, come on. Let’s talk. Don’t get all shy now,” Zane called. “I had the maid come and change the bedding. Please, I promise; it was incredible.”
Inhaling, and then blowing air out my nose like a raging bull, I slid into the hotel-provided bathrobe and cinched the waist with its tie. Flinging open the door so hard it battered the wall, I stormed into the room, ignoring the drumbeat in my head.
In the short time that I’d been secluded in the bathroom, the bed had been remade and Zane was lounging across it with his arms behind his head. His long hair spilled over his shoulders. He’d put on a pair of athletic shorts. They didn’t begin to hide his muscular form. My breath caught in my throat. Had I made love with this man and forgotten?
I got it now that drinking, for me, was no longer an option, at least not in public, and not without a very sober chaperone.
“How could you? Why would you?” I pleaded, letting my revulsion rise to the surface.
“That’s two questions, Princess.” He smirked, still looking delicious.
“I’m going to sit down,” I announced, afraid I would vomit should I continue standing. He patted the bed, imploring me with his eyes.
I ignored the gesture and chose a chair by the window. “Why would you take advantage of me? Why?” I tried to keep the tears behind my eyes where they belonged. It didn’t work. I could feel the liquid trails winding down my cheeks, increasing my humiliation.
“Babe, please, don’t cry. I thought you wanted this. You agreed to the marriage. You were so happy last night.”
“I was so drunk,” I sobbed, no longer able to control my emotions.
“You’d had a few too many, but I had no idea you wouldn’t remember. I would never …”
“Yes, you would have! You know my religious upbringing. Thanks to you, I can’t even get an annulment and feel right about it. Couldn’t you wait until I was sober before we, we did that.” I cried harder, choking down sobs. I couldn’t remember anything about what was supposed to be the most memorable night in a woman’s life. I deserved to cry.
Did he even consider how his actions might be regarded as rape?
He moved with stealth, like always, and was kneeling beside me before I could begin to protest. Wrapping his arms around me, he held me while I wept. “Hey, hey, I promise; it’ll be all right. I’ll make it okay.”
The realization that I was clinging to the cause of my anguish, startled me into action. Pushing him away, I leapt to my feet; I pummeled his bare chest with my fists.
“You can’t make it okay. Don’t you understand? I will never experience that experience again. Ever. You stole something precious from me, married or not,” I cried.
“I’m sorry, Chloe. So sorry.” From the depth of pain evident in his eyes, I almost believed him. Sadly, his regret couldn’t repair my grief or return my virginity.
Yet, on some level, I felt just a smidgen of relief. His emotional responses and my woman’s intuition assured me that he’d, without doubt, believed me to be a willing participant last night, and I knew enough about Zane to know he wasn’t the type to resort to rape. Still, I felt violated, and