She stared at him, her mouth dropping open. He thought she’d been raped?

“I apologize. I shouldn’t have reminded you.”

Before she could even think of how to respond, he ushered her out of the room and the building. When she sat in the van again and watched him put the key into the ignition, she put her hand on his arm, stopping him.

Surprised, he turned his head to her, but said nothing.

She didn’t know why she felt compelled to correct his misconception, but she did. Perhaps his tenderness and the understanding that he had shown while in her former cell had done something to her. Or maybe she was just getting soft.

“We were never raped.”

Surprise lit up his eyes. “But the vampires . . . the bite. You must have experienced the arousal. And with somebody as beautiful as you . . . ”

He thought she was beautiful?

“I’m sorry to say, but I don’t see what vampire could resist. I didn’t mean to pry, and it doesn’t matter that you don’t want to tell me. I had no right to mention it. Just forget it.”

He appeared embarrassed. And so utterly human.

“I know about the sexual arousal, I’ve been through it so many times, but the guards, they made sure the leeches never touched us that way. It would have reduced the potency of our blood, they said.”

“What?” Confusion tainted his voice.

“They claimed that if a girl experienced sexual gratification, it would negate the drugging effect her blood had. That’s why they never raped us. They weren’t going to blemish the merchandise. That’s also why we were shackled to our beds at daytime. So we couldn’t touch ourselves.”

Oliver’s mouth dropped open as the news sank in.

Ursula nodded slowly, remembering the sleepless hours during which she’d fought her sexual urges. “And during nighttime, they used mind control on us so we wouldn’t try to masturbate when we were alone.”

“You mean . . . ?” He stopped himself.

She looked away, suddenly embarrassed that she’d been so frank. She didn’t have to tell him about this part of her ordeal, but for some reason, she wanted him to understand what she’d been through. “I haven’t had an orgasm since they captured me three years ago.”

At her admission, she heard him exhale sharply. “Oh my god!”

She felt heat suffuse her cheeks.

“But you’re so full of passion.” He reached for her hand, making her look at him.

“I wish I could make it up to you.” Instantly he seemed to realize what he’d said. “Oh God, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant . . . ”

She knew exactly what he meant. It should make her recoil, yet it didn’t. Even though Oliver was a vampire, over the last few hours she’d seen another side of him. He cared. He’d listened and put his disbelief aside. He’d made an effort to help her. And the way he’d behaved when she’d been afraid to enter her former prison cell was downright sensitive. As if he could sense what she felt. Was it so wrong to want to lean against him for support? For some warmth?

“Maybe you can . . . ” Her voice trembled slightly when she continued, “I crave to be touched.” Touched by him. By the vampire who had rescued her.

Oliver reached for her, his hand cupping her cheek. “You want me to touch you?”

Ursula closed her eyes and leaned into his palm. “Would it be such a hardship?”

She felt him shake his head. “Do you really think I’m cute, I mean, for a vampire?”

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. Cute? It didn’t even begin to describe what she felt. “Cute was maybe not the right word.”

“What’s the right word then?” he asked and inched closer.

Her gaze dropped to his parted lips. “What would you do if I said I found you . . . hot?”

Oliver groaned. “Are you playing with me, Ursula? Because if you are, you should stop, or I’ll do something you might not want me to.”

She scooted closer to him. “And what would that be?”

No, she wasn’t playing with him. She wanted him. And she was sure now that it wasn’t the residual arousal from the vampire’s bite. Too many hours had passed since. No, what she felt right now was different. She wanted Oliver. And she wanted to forget.

“I thought you hated vampires,” he deflected.

“I do.” But she couldn’t conjure up that same feeling for Oliver.

“Then why would you want to sleep with me?”

She brushed her index finger over his lower lip. “When you kissed me in your house, you made me want more.” So much more than she’d hoped for in the last three years.