So I stay standing, and eye him with some of the wariness I’m feeling. ‘This won’t take long.’
I’ve piqued his interest. I search for something to say to get me out of this but draw a blank. Besides, I want this.
Life’s too short for timidity.
‘Go on.’ He reclines in the chair, his large frame relaxed, his eyes intense.
‘It’s simple,’ I say, telling myself it really is simple. He hooks up with enough women for me to know that sex means very little to him. And I want this to be meaningless. A transaction. My virginity, for his experience. A first time that is pleasurable, that means nothing. A memory, for the album I’m collecting on this trip of a lifetime.
‘What’s simple?’ he asks, leaning forward a little, so that I catch a hint of his masculine fragrance, earthy and spiced, and my insides kick in immediate response. His legs are long, his thighs muscular. His pants strain across them and I force myself to hold his gaze. If he agrees to this, I’ll have time to admire his body later.
Be brave.
Be brave.
Be brave.
‘I want to go home with you. Tonight.’
One thick brow lifts, sardonic amusement the only emotion I can detect on his handsome, rock-hard features.
‘I see.’ He runs a finger around the top of his glass, a smile flickering on his lips.
‘I’m serious,’ I say with a shake of my head, swallowing past the sense of panic, ignoring a desire to wrench the words back into my mouth.
Suddenly the itch to fast forward three weeks and leave immediately for Paris wraps around me. The mortification is intense.
Heat stains my cheeks. ‘But maybe that’s a stupid idea. Forget about it.’
I take a step towards the bar but his hand reaches out, catching my wrist. It’s the first time we’ve touched and I think the feeling will stay with me for ever. Sensation zaps under my skin, setting miniature explosions raging in every cell. I’m electrified.
‘I didn’t say no,’ he growls and my stomach squeezes. His eyes latch onto mine, and I imagine what he’s like in court—formidable, intimidating, inquiring. And whip-smart. ‘Why?’
I swallow, knowing this is kind of the point of no return. I want this. I’m actually surprised by how much I want this. Now I just have to own that.
‘Because I’m a virgin, and I want you to be my first.’
HER WORDS ARE drumming through my head. I wait until we’re in the car and it’s moving and then turn to face her, the screen up between my driver and us.
‘You’re a virgin.’
It’s not a question, but I feel like I have to say it again just to try to unravel it.
She nods, her eyes shuttered. Her cheeks are stained a pale pink and her long blonde hair falls disarmingly over one shoulder, half covering her face from me.
‘Yes.’ There’s strength in the response. Defiance.
‘Why?’
Her lips twist in a half-smile. ‘Does it matter?’
My pulse is hammering me from the inside out. ‘Yes.’
She blinks, even that simple gesture distracting. ‘Why?’
Great question. Why do I care? I turn away from her a little, staring out at Dublin as it passes in a brightly lit blur.
There’s uneasiness inside me. Something I can’t put my finger on. A hesitation I don’t understand, and I tell myself it’s because none of this makes sense. I’m someone who likes to comprehend people, what makes them tick, why they act the way they do. My job and life are predicated on my abilities there. But with this woman, I can’t make sense of it.
She’s surprised me. I’m not often surprised. ‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty-three.’ More defiance.
I barely register it though. I turn back to face her and my scepticism must show, because she regards me with a look of defensiveness.
‘A twenty-three-year-old virgin.’ I drawl the words, while my mind rushes furiously, trying to comprehend this.
‘So?’ She moves a little closer, her eyes sparking to mine, a hint of her vanilla fragrance catching my nostrils. ‘What does that matter?’
‘I’m not interested in being your first.’ That’s obviously not completely true. My dick is hard, my body’s surging with adrenaline and desire.
‘Liar.’ She calls me on it with a soft laugh and, to my surprise, unbuckles her seat belt and slides across the leather seat, right to my side. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at me.’
I fix her with a level stare; my cock throbs. ‘And how’s that?’
‘Like you’re undressing me with your eyes.’
She’s right. That’s exactly how I’ve been looking at her since she first started working at the bar. ‘Is that right?’
She nods slowly, her eyes not leaving my face. ‘I think you want to fuck me.’
She’s brazen, I’ll give her that. ‘Yeah.’ It’s a gruff admission. But then... Jesus. A virgin. ‘I don’t do relationships.’
Her brows arch and then she laughs. ‘Good. I don’t want that.’
Relief washes over me, followed quickly by uncertainty. ‘Why not?’
‘For one—’ she presses a hand to my chest, her gaze following its path ‘—I’m only in Ireland another few weeks. Second, I don’t “do” relationships either. At least, not now. I’m not looking for any kind of emotional complication.’
‘You say that now...’
She laughs then, a sound so sweet it’s unbelievably sexy. I wonder if she knows how she’s driving me crazy. ‘You think you’re so good in bed I’m going to forget my travel plans and beg to stay here with you?’
I realise how arrogant that sounds and my own husky laugh fills the limo. ‘You never know.’
She sobers, her eyes narrowing. ‘I do know.’ Steel crosses her expression. ‘I will be leaving Dublin in less than three weeks.’ The words are vice-like. ‘Nothing and no one will change that.’ Her fingers creep higher, to the button of my shirt. She flicks it, her tongue darting to the corner of her lips as she concentrates on pushing it through the shirt hole.
‘But, before I go, I
