Virgin for the Billionaire's Taking

by Penny Jordan

  What nonsense was this? That one woman could quite easily be replaced by another was Jay’s personal mantra—one he adhered to strictly. Jay moved restlessly in his chair, oblivious to the disappointment of his companion as she recognised his lack of interest in her. There was only one explanation he was willing to accept for Keira’s unwanted intrusion into his thoughts, and that was quite simply that he ached for her because he had not brought their intimacy to its natural conclusion. If he had done so then he would not still be wanting her. That was all there was to it. Nothing more. Nothing more at all.

  Jay was still repeating those words to himself several hours later, as he lay alone and sleepless in his bed in his hotel suite, the business documents he had intended to study left ignored on the beside table.

  Keira.

  Jay closed his eyes, only realising his mistake when immediately his memory furnished him with a mental image of her in which her eyes burned dark gold with desire for him and her breath came in swift, unsteady little gasps of escalating arousal.

  His own heartbeat picked up, hammering its message of need through his body.

  He had been a fool not to take what had been on offer. She had probably had condoms to hand—women like her were always prepared.

  The Bollywood actress had insisted on writing down her mobile number for him. He had two more days in Mumbai—could spend longer there if he chose. Longer? Since when did it take more than one night in bed with any woman to satisfy his desire for her? Wasn’t that why he had grown bored with the ritual of pretending to have to seduce a woman who had already made it plain that she was up for sex with him, taking her shopping for the present she had made it clear she expected, then finding that, like a tiger fed on tame game instead of having to hunt, his belly was full in the sexual sense, but his appetite was somehow not satisfied. It was no wonder that he had actually welcomed the celibacy that had become his only sleeping partner these last few months.

  And wasn’t it in reality that very celibacy that was responsible for the white heat of his desire for Keira?

  Keira. His thoughts had turned full circle, and his body now ached like hell. Jay threw back the bedcovers. Picking up the documents from the bedside table, he strode naked to the desk. He pulled on a robe and switched on his laptop, and proceeded to do what he could to blot Keira out of his thoughts by engrossing himself in some work…

  ‘Oh, I love this toile,’ Keira enthused as she studied the fabric sample in front of her, with its design of Indian palaces, monkeys, elephants and howdas printed in traditional single colours against the creamy white of the cotton background.

  ‘I designed it myself,’ Alex Jardine told her with a smile. ‘I had some original copperplate rollers for toile fabric I was lucky enough to pick up in an antique market in France years ago, and when I showed them to Arjun, here, and explained what I wanted to do, he was able to find me a craftsman to copy the rollers for us so we could create this toile. It’s one of four we’ve been experimenting with: two traditional, of which this is one, and two very contemporary designs.’

  Keira nodded her head, fascinated by the designs.

  ‘We’re experimenting at the moment with charcoal, to black-dye the modern toile and give it a more edgy look,’ he continued.

  From the moment she had stepped into the fabric factory Keira had felt as though she had stepped into her own private Aladdin’s cave. Bolts of fabrics of every hue imaginable were stacked to the ceiling, mouthwatering acid sherbet colours, rich traditional colours of crimson ruby, jade and emerald embellished with gold thread, sea and sky colours, and even pale creamy naturals. Her senses had fed on them as greedily as a child let loose in a sweet shop, and now she was every bit as giddy and dizzy as that child might have been, from consuming too many additives. She was on a high with the sheer intensity of her own rush of delight. And that delight was compounded by her sense of having met someone so much in tune with her own way of thinking in Alex.

  At first sight she had felt slightly put off by him. Over six foot tall, with thick curly hair that reached down to his shoulders, he was dressed in white linen trousers, a loose linen shirt and with his feet bare. His voice was a languid ‘okay yah’ upper crust London drawl, and Keira had felt initially that there was rather too much of the faux hippie about him—so much so, in fact, that it was almost a theatrical affectation.

  But then he had shown her his fabrics, his large hands as tender on them as though they were small children, his voice softening as he told her about their provenance and his own desire to keep his designs true to tradition whilst bringing in something unique and modern that was still ‘of India’, and Keira had been entranced and captivated.

  ‘I am hoping that we’ll be able to design something that has a bit of a Bollywood twist to it, but Arjun, here, thinks I’m being over-confident.’ Alex laughed as he smiled at the factory owner.

  ‘I just love what you’re doing,’ Keira told him. ‘And if it was up to me I’d be buying up everything for this new venture, but I don’t have that authority.’

  ‘We can supply you with samples and you can show them to His Highness Prince Jayesh,’ the factory owner was assuring her eagerly.

  ‘Arjun won’t let you leave until he’s heaped you with samples,’ Alex warned her, with a warm smile, reaching out to pluck a stray thread of cotton that had attached itself to the sleeve of her top as the factory owner hurried away for more samples.

  Keira smiled back at him, unaware of the fact that Jay had just walked into the building and was standing watching the byplay between them with a glacier cold look in his eyes.

  It was Alex who saw Jay first, his own gaze sharpening in recognition of what he could see in Jay’s eyes as he strode towards them.

  ‘There’s a very angry-looking alpha male heading this way,’ he told Keira drolly. ‘And he looks very much as though he thinks I’ve been trespassing on his private property.’

  ‘What?’ Puzzled, Keira turned round and then gave a small ‘oh’ of mixed comprehension and surprise as Jay bore down on them, her stomach churning out its message of acute physical awareness of him as her heart pounded erratically.

  He was wearing light linen, apparently oblivious to the heat in the factory, with no sign of perspiration dampening his skin in the way Keira knew it was dampening her own—although she could see the dark shadow along his jaw where he needed to shave. It gave him an extra edge of raw masculinity that touched her own femaleness as directly as though he himself had touched her—very intimately.

  A giddy, nerve-tingling feeling had somehow taken hold of her, reminiscent of the way she felt after drinking champagne. Bubbles of sensation fizzed through her veins, heightening her awareness of him and her sensitivity to him. Her gaze was somehow drawn to his face, and refused to be moved. It was as though she had been possessed by the greed of a hedonist with an insatiable appetite, Keira decided shakily, unable to stop herself from visually gorging herself on the pleasure of looking at him.

  Jay—here! What an extraordinary coincidence that he should have business here himself. Not that he looked at all pleased to have found her here, she noticed.

  ‘Jay,’ she greeted him weakly. ‘You’ve come back early from Mumbai. I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve just seen the most wonderful fabrics. You’re going to love them, I know…’ She was gabbling like an idiot, unable to stop herself as she plucked sample after sample from the pile Arjun had just returned with, wafting them before Jay’s totally immobile gaze.

  He hadn’t spoken or moved, hadn’t so much as acknowledged her in any way, and yet he filled her senses. All she could see, all she knew, was him.

  ‘You must meet Alex,’ Keira gabbled on. ‘He’s got the most wonderful ideas—’

  She broke off as she physically felt the increase in tension, as clearly as though someone had actually tightened the air and removed oxygen from it. Jay’s lips had thinned, his gaze icing over her before being directed past her to Alex.

 
‘Arjun’s got all the samples Keira and I have discussed,’ Keira heard Alex saying easily. ‘But you’ll want to check them out for yourself, and as Keira knows I’m open to whatever input she wants to give me. Next time you come to visit, if you let me know beforehand, Keira, I’ll book you into that boutique hotel I was telling you about and we can do dinner,’ Alex offered, giving Keira another smile. ‘And then I’ll have time to show you what I can really do.’

  When he winked at her and grinned, Keira couldn’t help but laugh. Alex was a tease, but harmless, and she didn’t in any way object to his mild social flirting, knowing it for what it was—which was nothing more than something to oil the wheels of business.

  She would have liked to stay a bit longer, to share her enthusiasm and excitement for what she had seen with Jay, but he was making it very plain that he was not in the mood to look at fabrics and was clearly waiting to leave. He was also making it very obvious that he was expecting her to leave with him. Presumably he had completed his own business, whatever it had been, and so Keira thanked Arjun and allowed Jay to escort her out of the factory, whilst two young boys carried her precious samples over to the car and handed them to her driver.

  However, when Keira made to follow them to her car, Jay stopped her.

  ‘You’re travelling back with me,’ he told her abruptly.

  She could have objected—perhaps she should have objected, given his dictatorial manner—but for some reason she remained strangely silent. Not because she actually wanted to travel back with him, of course, Keira insisted to herself as Jay opened the passenger door of his Mercedes and then stood beside it, waiting for her to get inside more in the manner of a gaoler than anything else. Keira winced when he closed the door with a definite thud.

  It was late in the day and the town was busy with traffic, filling its narrow streets. All too conscious of the hazards presented by small children darting out into the road, plus old people, cyclists, bullock carts, the highly decorated trucks that were so much a part of India’s road culture, not to mention stray cows and other cars, Keira didn’t venture to speak for fear of distracting Jay’s attention from his driving.

  Once clear of the town, though, when Jay himself made no attempt to engage her in conversation, Keira found that despite the oppressive atmosphere caused by his silence she didn’t feel brave enough to break it.

  With the sun setting over the dusty plain she focused instead on the view beyond the window, and she couldn’t stop herself from exclaiming aloud in delight when they passed a herd of camels being made ready to travel as they took advantage of the evening coolness.

  ‘We’re so close to the desert that I’d love to take the opportunity to see the annual Cattle Fair,’ she told Jay enthusiastically. ‘Have you seen it?’ she asked him.

  ‘Of course,’ Jay told her shortly.

  Of course he would have. This was his country, after all, Keira reminded herself. His manner was so European that she tended to forget that at times.

  It made her feel uncomfortable and on edge to recognise that just the fact of seeing Jay when she hadn’t expected to do so had had such a dramatic effect on her mood, changing her from an in-control businesswoman into someone whose every reaction was controlled by her awareness of him: a smile from him sent her heart soaring upwards, and a frown had it plunging downwards.

  No one had affected her like this before, and knowing that he could and did made her feel on edge and vulnerable. She wanted to reject completely the pull he had on her senses, and yet at the same time she was drawn helplessly to check over and over again the intensity of it—like a moth drawn to the light that would ultimately destroy it, she thought with a small shiver, witnessing the helpless suicide of the soft-winged creatures as they flew into the beam of the car’s headlights, switched on now that darkness had fallen.

  The lights of the city broke the stark emptiness of the plain as they drove closer to it.

  Jay was still struggling within himself to justify his intense and uncharacteristic reaction to the fact that Keira had been absent from the palace on his return.

  That he had automatically expected she would be there and had been so infuriated when she was not had been bad enough, but he might have dismissed those feelings as being caused by the ongoing sexual challenge she represented to him. However, explaining his own sense of aloneness and the emptiness of the building without her in it was something else again, and something for which he could not find any logical reason.

  In short, it had infuriated him to return and find her gone. It had infuriated him even more to have to admit to his own reaction to her absence. And it had infuriated him most of all to have to endure his own inner sense of desolation and the emptiness of the palace without her.

  Why on earth should the absence of one woman—a woman he barely knew—affect him to such an extent that he had been driven to set out in pursuit of her? It was simply not logical. And it was most definitely not acceptable.

  Jay considered himself to be a man who had overcome the human weakness of being held hostage to emotion. Everything he did was governed and motivated by reason and rationality. Of course he permitted himself to be pleased when his goals and objectives were achieved, but it was a controlled and disciplined satisfaction. Not for Jay the pantomiming, posturing foolishness of the type who found it necessary to trumpet their success to the world in ridiculous displays of conspicuous consumption, which invariably involved magnums of champagne, flashy models and equally flashy so-called ‘boys’ toys’.

  Yes, he had celebrated his successes—with a carefully chosen piece of art, or an addition to his worldwide property portfolio, and always a generous anonymous donation to those charities he supported. These were charities in the main that provided for orphaned children in the poorest of the world’s countries, but this was a private matters.

  What he had experienced today came dangerously close to challenging everything he believed about himself. That must not be allowed to happen. The enormity of what it might mean was too much. It wasn’t the intimacy he had witnessed between Keira and her fellow countryman that had affected him. Rather it was his anger at her behaviour and the effect it might have on his own business reputation. Indians placed a great deal of importance on good moral behaviour, and he had no wish to see the reputation of his business tarnished by Keira’s flirtatious and unprofessional manner. That was the cause of his anger, and it was perfectly logical. It had nothing whatsoever to do with emotion—and certainly not an emotion like jealousy.

  They had reached the palace car park. Without a word to Keira Jay stopped the car, got out, and then went round to open the passenger door for her.

  They were back inside the palace before Keira could find the courage to break the crushing silence Jay had imposed, telling him brightly, ‘I’d better go and thank my driver, and retrieve the samples…’

  ‘Wait,’ Jay demanded curtly. ‘There’s something I wish to discuss with you first. We’ll go to my office,’ he told her, gesturing towards the stairs.

  Whatever he wanted to say to her it wasn’t going to be something she wanted to hear, Keira recognised as she took in the grim set of his mouth and the way he distanced himself from her as they walked up the stairs.

  Once they were inside his office Jay closed the door with the same controlled ferocity with which he had closed the car door earlier, the small but definite thud of that closure causing Keira’s heart to jolt uneasily into her ribs.

  Keira could sense that a storm was brewing as clearly as though she had seen thunderclouds building up and growling ominously on the horizon. It swept into the room without warning or ceremony, feeding on the oxygen in the air and leaving her chest tight as she struggled to breathe in the air that was left.

  When Jay spoke, his words were like sheet lightning, slicing through the stifling silence.

  ‘You had no business travelling so far out of the city without advising me of your plans beforehand.’

  ‘You weren’t
here, and—’

  ‘And you couldn’t wait?’ Jay challenged her coldly.

  Keira gulped in air, bewildered by his anger.

  ‘You were the one who introduced me to the fabric merchant so that I could obtain some samples,’ she reminded him.

  ‘The merchant, yes. But I most certainly did not suggest that you, a woman on your own, should travel anywhere unescorted, and that once having done so—’

  ‘I was not unescorted,’ Keira protested. ‘I was with my driver. I’d gone there on business to—’

  ‘To flirt with one of your own countrymen?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes. Since that is most certainly what you were doing when I saw you.’

  ‘What? That’s ridiculous,’ Keira defended herself.

  ‘But you knew that he would be there?’ Jay queried.

  ‘Well, yes,’ Keira admitted. ‘But—’

  ‘And immediately you knew that, you decided to go and check him out?’

  ‘No! This is crazy. It was the fabric merchant who suggested that I might want to meet the designer and see his work at first hand.’

  ‘Was it? Or did you suggest it yourself? Was it his work you wanted to inspect at first hand or the man himself? A fellow European…’

  What he was insinuating was as insulting as it was incorrect, Keira thought angrily.

  ‘I went to check out fabric—Indian fabric. Not a European man, or indeed any kind of man,’ Keira told him fiercely. ‘I’m not interested in checking out men.’

  Too late she realised her mistake. The look Jay slanted her was as steely sharp as a new blade.

  ‘No? That’s not the impression you’ve been giving me,’ he taunted her.

  Another minute and he’d be reminding her of her response to him. Keira tensed herself inwardly for the expected verbal blow, but to her relief instead he accused her coldly.

  ‘You were flirting with him—you can’t deny that.’

  Relief washed through her, chilling the heat of her earlier anger.