The fact that she had been a virgin, and there had been her blood on the fleecy beige carpet in the library, had made him wince a the time; O’Grady had never, ever f*cked a virgin.

And the act of taking her soft, rounded body, of claiming her, head made him feel jealously possessive about her.

He did not want to share her with anyone; okay, St Just was different, but even the thought of his brother and his long, lean hands on Bianca’s soft flesh, made him growl in jealousy.

Throwing back his head, he gulped the whiskey and felt the liquid poison burn its way down his throat....