haunted his innermost fantasies for most of his life. He could deny her nothing. “Anything.”
“Would you teach me about sex?”
Chapter 2
Okay, Nell thought, at the look of shock on Riley’s face. Maybe the direct approach wasn’t the wisest choice of action. As Riley continued to remain silent, his hand wrapped around the empty glass, astonishment showed on his face and in his deep brown eyes.
Her confidence began to deteriorate. Somehow, in the cold light of day, the idea she’d had in the deep of the night didn’t seem logical anymore. She’d been dreaming about the future and realized she had her future in the palm of her hand. She could finally, after so many years, make her dream a reality. She could finally go to New York, go back to school to become something other than poor, old, boring inexperienced Nell. But how was she going to fulfill her aspirations of being the quintessential New York City sophisticate if she was still a virgin?
Riley blinked at her a couple of times, then shook his head and screwed his finger in his ear. “Would you say that one more time for me?”
Wiping damp palms on her uniform, she swallowed the lemon-sized lump in her throat. She knew Riley wasn’t attracted to her. He liked pretty women. Thin women. Women who had perfected the art of conversation.
“I was wondering if…” she said in a timid tone. “Well, if you could…teach me how…” She stared at her shoes, noticing she had a spot of country gravy on the left tip and a smear of what looked like peanut butter on the right one. “About sex?”
He just stood there with his mouth open, staring at her as though he couldn’t believe her. She didn’t blame him. He had some of the most beautiful women in three states lining up to seduce him. Why would he even entertain the notion of making love to her?
He leaned against the counter, seeming to ponder her words.
Nell had to admit she just liked looking at him. He was tall and well-built, with the grace of a dancer and the movements of a panther. Wide shoulders tapered down to a trim waist and strong muscular thighs. His skin was a lovely shade of light cinnamon and his hair was cut close to his scalp. Little droplets of water still sparkled on the surface of his black hair.
Once upon a time, she’d dreamed about marrying and starting a family with someone like him. But those young-girl dreams had been abandoned as the years crept by and very few men had showed any romantic interest in her. But the times had changed. Now a horde of single men—and a few not-so-single men—were attempting to insert themselves into her life since word had spread about her inheritance. Greed was a huge incentive for any man to ask out a prissy, plain Jane like herself. “Riley, did you hear what I said?”
He slipped a finger under her chin and forced her head up to meet his gaze. “Why?”
The tip of his finger was warm on her skin. She tried to move away, but her feet refused to move. She even attempted to look away, but his eyes held hers. The intensity of his gaze burned her to the spot. “I have several reasons.”
“Name one.”
“Well—” She shouldn’t have come. Instinct told her to back herself away and hope he forgot she’d ever made this silly suggestion.
She took a deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound, her grandmother had always said. “Because I’m going to move to New York City.” Boy, did that sound dumb, but she simply didn’t know what else to say.
He blinked again, and opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Oh, boy, she needed to say something else—something that made sense. “And because you’re the only single man in this town who hasn’t been calling me up on the phone, sending me flowers, sending me candy or telling me I’m the most beautiful thing that ever graced the planet now that I’m an heiress and have enough money to keep a good man in comfort. Frankly, that makes me think you like me just because I’m me. And that’s why you would be perfect.” Okay, she’d said it all, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a torrent.
Riley nodded, but didn’t say anything for a few seconds as if he needed to give her words time to sink in and make sense. He took his finger from under her chin. “I do like you for you, but what does moving to New York have to do with you needing to learn about sex?”
How did she explain her big dream without sounding dumb? It all made sense in her head. In New York, she didn’t have to be boring old Nell Evans, diner waitress and granddaughter of the stingiest woman in Mississippi. Nor did she have to be the daughter of the easiest woman in Mississippi—a woman who didn’t even know who of all the men she’d slept with, had been Nell’s father. In New York, Nell could be the woman she wanted to be. The one she knew in her heart she was destined to be. She just didn’t want to go there with her backwoods country ways showing like a ripped hem on her skirt. “I can’t be there and be a virgin.”
His dark eyes widened. “You’re still a virgin?” His voice held an almost reverent tone.
She could feel a tingly heat infuse her cheeks. “Yes.”
“How did that happen?” He ran both his hands over his dark hair. “Or how didn’t it happen?”
Sex hadn’t happened because Nell wasn’t exactly the prettiest or most flirtatious girl in town. Nor was she exactly thin. And it didn’t help that her grandmother knew everyone in town and had had the ability to intimidate a marble statue into staying away from Nell. “Well, no one really ever asked me out, that is until I inherited millions of dollars.”
“You sound a little bitter.”
Yes, she was bitter. She’d spent her whole life in Wayloo and not one man had ever been interested until she became the town’s version of a cash cow. Who wouldn’t be bitter?
Since gossip about the will had spread, she’d been getting phone calls and had been sent flowers from every man in town who had aspirations toward wealth. Including the men who’d laughed at her in high school.
“You’re twenty-five years old, Nell,” he continued. “A fully-grown woman.”
She rolled her eyes. He hadn’t been forced to live in the maximum-security prison her grandmother had called a house, where her every move was accounted for. She had stayed with her grandmother out of guilt and some twisted attempt to win the old woman’s love.
Being a good girl had always earned her the only praise her grandmother had thought to issue. “I know how old I am. And trust me, I know about my lack of a social life.” She had to get out of his house and find herself a large rock to hide under and hope he’d never ever mention her being here. Or what she’d asked of him. Suddenly, the embarrassment was too much for her.
He crossed his arms over his powerful chest and rocked back on his heels. “I did.”
“You did what?”
“Ask you out.” He held up three long fingers. “Three times.”
How could he have been serious? No one paid her any mind. All the boys in the area had only wanted to date the pretty girls and she’d never measured up. Too shy and self-conscious, she’d always felt everyone was laughing at her behind her back. “You weren’t serious.”
She
