The Ruthless Billionaire’s Virgin

by Susan Stephens

  Everyone had rejoiced on the day Ethan had agreed to be patron of the rugby academy set on her parents’ farm. Savannah had quietly celebrated, knowing it marked his return to the world. From the moment Ethan had given his agreement, things had moved quickly. Savannah had persuaded her parents to enter into a long-term lease with the RFU for the use of some land, and that money had saved the farm. She couldn’t have felt more passionate about this opening today for all sorts of reasons, and the only anxiety she had was seeing Ethan again. As Ethan’s helicopter cast a shadow over the field, she told herself she could handle it, and what better time than this? Everything was in place, and even the local mayor had accepted her invitation to cut the ribbon outside the new clubhouse. But seeing his face at the controls undid all her good intentions. Ethan helped so many people, and yet the one person Ethan seemed incapable of helping was himself. This would be their first face-to-face meeting since they parted in Tuscany, and she loved him as much as ever. But this was no time to be nursing a broken heart. The project was far too important for that. And now she must greet the guest of honour.

  He saw her immediately. Even amongst the crowd of excited children and local dignitaries, she stood out. Savannah had real presence, and the place she still held in his heart drew him to her.

  Though she should be in Salzburg giving a recital today, he remembered, not standing on a rugby pitch dressed in a track-suit and trainers with her hair drawn back in a simple ponytail but never looking more beautiful. Right now she was running on the spot, surrounded by a group of youngsters, as if sport was her only passion now.

  He was hugely disappointed, but the love he felt for Savannah would never change. He had come because he would do anything on earth to help Savannah and her family, and this scheme she’d dreamed up benefited everybody. Which was so like her. Savannah Ross might be the most irritating woman he had ever met, but Savannah always put others before herself.

  The next few hours were going to be tough training for a life without Savannah, but where that was concerned he hadn’t changed his mind. He was still scarred and she was still beautiful—inside and out. Some things never changed.

  As he ducked his head to clear the rotor blades he caught a glimpse of her pale face angled towards him at the edge of the field. Was she smiling? He hoped not. He hoped she would only remember the distance he had put between them before she’d left Tuscany. He didn’t want to see a look of love in her eyes. He wanted to know she had moved on.

  They would never have worked as a couple, he told himself firmly as he strode towards her. How could he live with someone with no sense of responsibility? Though the fact that Savannah had broken her contractual obligations had surprised him. This youth project was vital, but she didn’t need to be here. She had sacrificed a great career move, and in doing so had put herself at risk of having her contract terminated.

  Now he was within touching distance, he registered explosions of sensation. He didn’t trust himself to shake her hand, and was glad when the current manager of the England squad intervened. He moved on with relief, spearheading the group responsible for making this day a reality, conscious that Savannah was behind him. As beautiful as ever, with her skin as flawless as porcelain, and her eyes…

  He breathed a sigh of relief as he approached the line of local dignitaries, but as he fell into easy conversation he was conscious of Savannah’s wildflower scent coupled with her breathy laugh. But she’d let his team down, he reminded himself grimly, and anyone who did that let him down. As she’d shunned her engagement to sing in Salzburg to be here, Ethan was under pressure from his team to end her contract.

  His heart lifted when he met the first youngster on the scheme, and he recognised the same determination to succeed he’d had blazing from the boy’s eyes. It was more than possible that one of these boys would play for England some day, and he knew then that that even without Savannah’s involvement this was the type of project he would gladly give his last penny to.

  ‘But this time your money isn’t enough,’ one of the officials told Ethan goodnaturedly, glancing at Savannah, who had joined their little group for confirmation of this.

  He didn’t need his attention being drawn to Savannah when he was conscious of her every second. His attention might appear to be focused on the RFU official, but he was communing with her on some other level. His feelings towards her were as turbulent as ever, but he could understand now why she was so reluctant to leave the countryside for the anonymous bustle of the opera world. However prestigious that world might be, it lacked the honest goodness of the soil, and the unspoiled beauty of these rolling fields and ancient trees. The delicate tracery of lush, green hedges and dry stone-walls surrounding her parents’ farm created a quintessentially English scene, and one which he was even buying into with his purchase of the adjoining land. But even as a result of everything he could see here Savannah shouldn’t have broken her agreement and let people down.

  He was snapped out of these thoughts by officials ushering him into the recently erected club-house for tea. As he turned he found Savannah at his side. He steeled himself. What he had to say to her wouldn’t be easy, and so he greeted her formally before glancing towards the private office where they wouldn’t be overheard. ‘Could I have a moment of your time?’

  ‘Hello, Ethan,’ she said softly, reminding him of another occasion when his fast-ticking clock had ruled out the space for proper introductions. He felt a pang of remorse for then, for now, for everything that could never be. And what was he thinking? Was he going to take her aside and tell her she’d lost her contract on this wonderful occasion for which she was largely responsible? Was that his way now? The look in Savannah’s eyes contained a disturbing degree of understanding. She knew him too well. She knew that once his mind was made up there could be no turning back, but as she turned to walk ahead of him he did wonder at the flicker of steel in her gaze.

  He launched in without preamble, listing all the reasons why breaking her contract to attend the opening of a training facility that had nothing to do with her career was unacceptable. She stared at him throughout with little reaction other than a paling of her lips. He always gave right of reply in these circumstances, and when she didn’t speak up immediately he prompted her.

  He was shocked by the way Savannah’s face contorted with fury, and then she croaked something unintelligible at him. ‘If you’d just calm down,’ he said with dignity, ‘Perhaps I’d be able to understand what it is you’re trying to say.’

  She made a gesture, like a cutting motion across her throat.

  ‘That’s a bit over-dramatic, isn’t it?’ he commented with a humourless laugh.

  ‘I’ve lost my voice,’ she half-huffed, half-squeaked at him.

  Every swear-word in the book flew through his head then. He’d been so wound up like a spring at the thought of seeing her again, he hadn’t even paused to consider all the facts. So a sore throat accounted for her no-show in Salzburg.

  ‘Please forgive me,’ he said stiffly. He couldn’t blame her for the way she was looking at him. He never made mistakes, and therefore lacked the technique to account for them. Or maybe he did make mistakes—maybe he had—and maybe the biggest mistake of all was his underestimating Savannah. She was an integral part of this training project. He’d learned from the officials at the RFU that this training facility was all Savannah’s idea, and that she had come up with the plan of leasing part of her parents’ land to the club so they could have a proper training-facility for the youth squad, as well as all the other local youngsters who wanted to come along and taste the sport. There were scholarships and training programmes and grading examinations the various groups could work towards—funded by him, but all of it dreamed up by Savannah.

  More silent swear-words accompanied this thought, with the addition of a grimace and a self-condemning shake of the head. ‘Savannah, please accept my apologies, I didn’t realise…’

  If he had expected benediction and fo
rgiveness, he was out of luck. Spearing him a look, she spun on her heels and left him flat.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  HE FOUND her in the cosy farmhouse kitchen where she was standing by the Aga, drinking a steaming glass full of something aromatic. She barely looked up when he walked in, and, other than stirring her brew thoughtfully with a stumpy cinnamon-stick, she didn’t move. ‘Savannah.’

  Her eyes were wounded and her mouth was both trembling and determined when she did turn to look at him. She gestured for him to stay away from her, but since when had he ever taken orders? He stopped short halfway across the kitchen when he saw the tears in her eyes, and his guts twisted at the thought of what he’d done. ‘Savannah, please.’

  She shook her head and gestured that he should stay away from her.

  ‘I had no idea. I just got back—I came straight here.’

  She shrugged her shoulders, and made a sound that showed more clearly than words that she couldn’t give a fig what he did, and her blue eyes had turned to stone.

  ‘I should have double checked my facts before wading in, but I just wanted to…’

  Her finely etched brows rose in ironic question.

  ‘All right, then,’ he admitted, raking his hair with stiff, angry fingers. ‘I just wanted to see you. There, I’ve said it.’

  She huffed.

  ‘Savannah, please.’

  Lifting her tiny hand, she used it to push him away.

  He wasn’t as easy as that to get rid of.

  How was she supposed to have a go at him when she couldn’t even speak? Gestures and angry looks only got you so far—and that wasn’t nearly far enough where Ethan was concerned. ‘You can’t just walk in here and act like nothing happened.’ She wasn’t sure how much of that Ethan got, seeing as she could barely force a sound that wasn’t a squeak out of her infected throat.

  ‘You should be out there, enjoying your success,’ he said, confirming her impression that he hadn’t understood a word of what she’d said. She pulled a face. What was the point going outside without Ethan? The scheme needed him—and not just to give it a popular face. She needed him to take on a fuller role than that, but right now her angry look was telling him: you’re a selfish, egocentric brute, Ethan Alexander, and I never want to see you again.

  But Ethan remained undeterred. ‘So, just as a matter of interest, who is taking your place in Salzburg?’

  ‘Madame de Silva,’ she managed to husk.

  He smiled, remembering Savannah had looked sensational in Madame de Silva’s slinky gown, which was another reason he’d been only too eager to drag her off the pitch. But while he was reminiscing the wounded look returned to Savannah’s eyes. ‘But Madame couldn’t look half as beautiful as you do right now in your track-suit,’ he assured her gently.

  And before he could stop himself he dipped his head and kissed her very gently on the lips. He thought for a horrible moment she was going to push him away. She was certainly crying again; he could feel her tears wetting his face, and he could taste them.

  ‘You’ll catch it,’ she warned, her eyes wide with concern when he released her.

  ‘Your sore throat, do you mean? I certainly hope so,’ he said, kissing her again.

  She wasn’t nearly finished with saying hello to Ethan yet, as he released her when the door opened and everyone piled in. In typical English spring fashion the rain had chosen that moment to pour down, and there wasn’t enough space in the club house or even the large marquee her parents had erected to accommodate everyone who had turned up for the opening ceremony.

  Ethan quickly went about introducing himself to her parents, and then Savannah watched him mingling easily with everyone else. They had a marvellous team of workers on the farm, some of whose families had lived on the land adjoining theirs for generations. It was thanks to these lifelong friends that Savannah’s parents had been in a position to accept Ethan’s offer of a cruise, and she was glad he had the opportunity to meet them and thank them personally. Maybe Ethan could never be part of her life, but perhaps he understood now how special her life on the farm was, and how family and friends were a precious and integral part of that life.

  As Savannah watched Ethan ease his powerful frame through the crowd of noisy visitors in the cosy farmhouse kitchen, it wasn’t possible to think of him as the same man she’d first met. When he came out to socialise he radiated friendliness. Perhaps that should be her next project. If she could bring youngsters with similar injuries to Ethan’s into contact with him, he could give them the confidence to live their lives to the fullest.

  Was she only dreaming, or would that really be possible? The first step would be persuading Ethan to take a full part in the scheme…

  She would just have to try a little harder, Savannah concluded, passing round the savouries she’d baked. ‘Ethan.’ She caught up with him by the window, where he was holding a conversation with the local mayor. It was so hard to make him hear her with a scratchy voice. ‘Excuse me,’ she squeaked politely. ‘Do you think I could borrow you for a moment?’

  ‘Would you excuse me?’ Ethan asked the mayor politely.

  As soon as they found a space, she launched right in, ‘Ethan, we need you.’

  ‘You’re speaking again?’ His facial expression ran the gamut from relief to wry to mock-weary in the space of a breath.

  ‘Happily, my voice is coming back,’ Savannah agreed, ignoring Ethan’s groan. She couldn’t sing the praises of hot water, honey and lemon stirred with a cinnamon stick highly enough.

  ‘Sorry?’ Ethan dipped his head very low until his ear was level with her mouth. ‘You’ll have to speak up; you’re still croaking,’ he teased, turning Savannah’s ailment to his advantage.

  ‘If you think you’re going to distract me with that wicked look…’ He probably would, she realised.

  ‘Go on,’ Ethan prompted.

  ‘We need you, Ethan,’ she said, not messing about. ‘And not just for a flying visit every now and then.’

  ‘Ah…’ He looked down at her sternly, but he was smiling inwardly as he remembered the house he’d bought close by. He’d see Savannah, though what she was proposing for the scheme was a step too far for him. He couldn’t let the youngsters see his scars and put them off their game. ‘You’ve touched on the one subject I’m not prepared to discuss,’ he said flatly, and when she squeaked at him he put up his hand. ‘Are you quite sure your throat is getting better? Only I can’t tell you how peaceful it’s been since you lost your voice.’

  ‘Well, I found it,’ Savannah assured him firmly. ‘And it’s getting better all the time.’

  ‘No,’ Ethan said flatly when Savannah put her proposition to him outside the club house by the fence. ‘How many times do I have to say no to this idea of yours?’

  ‘As many times as you’re asked—until you say yes,’ she told him steadily.

  ‘Savannah, I should warn you, I don’t succumb to pressure.’

  ‘There has been the odd occasion,’ she reminded him brazenly, using tactics she should be thoroughly ashamed of but wasn’t.

  ‘Don’t you know you’re playing with fire?’ he warned, seeing her eyes darken.

  ‘Am I?’ she asked. She was all innocence as she angled her face towards him. ‘Perhaps that’s because I’ll stop at nothing to get you properly into this scheme.’

  ‘Well, I never thought you’d sink this low,’ Ethan murmured with his lips very close to her mouth.

  ‘Then you have a great deal to learn about me.’

  Dragging her close, he kissed her again.

  ‘Though I have to admit,’ she admitted breathlessly when Ethan released her, ‘That I usually try to make sure that when you and fire are concerned there’s no one else around.’

  Breaking off to say hello to some of the England squad—who, dressed in kit, were leading a group of youngsters out onto the pitch—he couldn’t have agreed more. The moment he turned back to her, she said, ‘I won’t give up, you know.’


  ‘I think I guessed that much,’ he told her, drawing her after him.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘Somewhere we can talk privately and your enthusiasm can be harnessed.’

  ‘Sounds lovely,’ she murmured as he helped her over a stile.

  ‘It will be.’ Vaulting over the same stile, he took her by the hand and led her waist-deep through a field of long grass.

  ‘Well, I think we can talk here,’ she agreed when he finally stopped in the middle of it.

  ‘You can talk if you want to.’

  ‘Ethan…’

  Love, contentment and unimaginable happiness…as well as a nice, dewy meadow freshly watered by the rain. ‘Thank goodness, you’re underneath me,’ Savannah murmured groggily to Ethan some time later.

  ‘I didn’t want you getting grass stains on your nice, new track-suit,’ Ethan mocked softly as they recovered.

  ‘Why worry? The sun is shining now and I’ll soon dry out.’ As she outlined Ethan’s sensual mouth with her fingertip until he threatened to bite it off, Savannah wondered whether this was the right time to broach the subject at the forefront of her mind or not.

  ‘Well?’ Ethan pressed, knowing she had something on her mind.

  ‘Well, what?’ she said, pulling on her innocent face. ‘Why must you always be so suspicious of me?’

  ‘I might only have known you a short time, but I know there’s usually something brewing when you have that look.’

  She hesitated and then said bluntly, ‘When you sprang over that stile…’

  ‘Yes?’ He wasn’t going to help her.

  ‘Well, I just thought, with your back and—’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Moving his head, he dislodged her teasing finger. ‘You want to know how I can do something like that when I can’t play rugby. Or, more importantly—at least as far as your scheme is concerned—why I won’t help out with the coaching.’