The Millionaire's Virgin (Mills & Boon By Request)

by Susan Stephens

  ‘I rather doubt it,’ said Zoe. ‘Why don’t you sit down and have a coffee?’ She waved at the barman, who was deep in conversation and not looking. ‘And a glass of water. Several glasses.’

  Banana seemed to think well of the idea. She began to hoist herself onto one of the tall bar stools. And then just seemed to give up midway. For half a second it looked as if she might make it, getting half a buttock onto the seat. But then gravity and two spaghetti legs took over. She put her hand to head and folded up as neatly as a concertina.

  Zoe was off her bar stool before she knew it. She pulled Banana clear of the fallen bar stool and turned her on her side. She had another go at attracting the attention of the barman. But, crouching on the floor, she had even less success.

  To her surprise, Jay arrived, speeding out of the crowd as if he was on rollerskates.

  ‘What’s wrong? Has she taken something?’ He felt her forehead. ‘Clammy.’

  Zoe had seen this before. She had seen Harry through more than one encounter with serious alcohol while her mother watched old videos in her room.

  ‘Too much to drink, I guess. She was swigging back margaritas earlier.’

  ‘Damn. She told me it was the first time she had had them. I should have realised and stopped her.’

  Across the prone body, Zoe raised her eyebrows. ‘Do you think you could have? Banana seemed pretty determined to get her own way to me.’

  He had that cold look back. ‘Yes, I could.’ He sounded angry. More with himself than anyone else, she thought. ‘Too late to think about that now, though. What she needs is water. Then hospital, I suppose. Just in case she really has drunk enough to make this alcohol poisoning.’ He had more success with the barman. ‘Hey, Derek. Chuck us over a jug of water.’

  The barman did.

  Jay propped the girl up while Zoe dribbled water between her lips. Remembering Harry, flopping and incapable at fifteen, she massaged the girl’s throat to make her swallow. Eventually her eyelids began to flutter and she moaned.

  The barman was hanging over them by then, along with several of the other guests.

  Jay took charge. ‘Nothing to worry about, guys. Party on. I’ll see she gets home safe.’ And then, when they had gone back to the dancing, he said quietly, ‘Call us a cab, will you, Derek? Zoe, can you help me with her?’

  ‘Sure.’

  It was gone three when they got her into the Accident and Emergency Department of a big London teaching hospital. The waiting room was almost empty. A weary-eyed triage nurse assessed Banana’s state and whipped her straight into a cubicle. Unpleasant noises ensued.

  Jay grimaced. ‘Looks like we got here just in time.’

  ‘At least if she’s sick they won’t have to pump her stomach,’ said Zoe practically.

  That surprised a choke of laughter out of him. ‘Tell me, do you always look on the bright side?’

  ‘No point in doing anything else.’

  The receptionist at the glass-walled desk beckoned them over. ‘Just a few details…’

  Between them they did not know much. But then Zoe had the idea of looking through the girl’s sequined evening purse. It contained her small pocket diary and gave her home address and assorted details, including her blood group and the fact that she had no allergies.

  ‘Pity she didn’t remind herself that alcohol was poison at the same time,’ said Zoe acidly.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ He was maddeningly tolerant. ‘She’s just young and inexperienced.’

  ‘Huh!’ That caught her on the raw. She said unwarily, ‘Still, I suppose it’s better than being old and inexperienced.’

  ‘This will teach her a valuable lesson—’

  Another nurse was coming towards them.

  ‘Can you tell me something about her? And this party tonight? When did she last eat? Is she likely to have taken recreational drugs?’

  Jay shook his head. ‘Not at any party of mine.’

  ‘But maybe someone brought something that you didn’t know about—’

  ‘These guys work for me. They wouldn’t risk it.’

  Looking at the set of his mouth, Zoe found she believed him.

  So did the nurse, evidently. ‘Well, it could just be too much to drink. I’ll tell the doctor.’ She disappeared.

  Zoe suddenly began to feel immensely tired. As if he sensed it, Jay put an arm around her and steered her towards a bench against a wall. He pushed her gently onto it and stood back, looking down at her with concern.

  ‘Like a coffee?’

  She smiled palely. ‘Out of a machine? No, thank you.’

  ‘Snob,’ he said peacefully. ‘Does it matter if it’s wet and warm?’

  ‘I’m not cold.’

  And she was not. The harsh hospital lighting made everything seem dreamlike. She was neither hot nor cold, nor awake nor asleep, but floating somewhere in the suspended animation of near exhaustion.

  ‘You’re wiped, aren’t you?’

  She closed her eyes. ‘I’ve been up since five. How long before that means I’ve been awake for twenty-four hours?’

  He was startled. ‘Five? Why on earth—?’

  ‘My brother has finished his exams. He’s got himself a summer job. Guiding field trips for schoolchildren. He’d never have got himself out of the house if I hadn’t. Afterwards I couldn’t go back to sleep. So I did some housework.’

  ‘And then you ran around preparing my Venice paper all day. And ran the party all night. Topping it off with a crisis.’ He sounded remorseful. ‘Poor old Discovery. You really are a tower of strength, aren’t you?’

  Zoe pulled a face. ‘You really know how to flatter a girl.’

  He shook his head. ‘No flattery. I told you. I tell the truth.’

  And quite suddenly it was all too much for her. All the deceit and the games and the feeling of everything getting away from her. She just didn’t want it any more. She was so tired of it.

  She said baldly, ‘Well, I don’t.’

  He went very still.

  ‘I’ve not been telling the truth so long that when I try I can’t do it.’

  Zoe tipped her head back against the wall. The harsh light made her eyelids ache. She stared at the ceiling almost dreamily. She felt as if she were in free fall, as if all the conventions and pleasant, safe habits of every day had fallen away. All the rules, too.

  She said in a flat voice, ‘Don’t run away with the idea that you know one single thing about me. You don’t.’

  Jay sat down on the bench beside her, carefully not touching her. But she could feel him watching.

  ‘Want to tell me about it?’ he said quietly.

  And quite suddenly she did. Well, she wanted to tell someone.

  There was no reason in the world why she should tell Jay, of course. She didn’t know him. What she did know she didn’t like. He was serial flirt with a tough break-up technique and no conscience. Or that was what they said. It seemed to be true. He was the last person in the world she would have expected to confide in.

  But the small hours, the nearly empty waiting area, and those fierce lights seemed to have got her spaced out quite as much as any recreational drug would have done.

  He was also her boss and the owner of Culp and Christopher. Which meant he paid her salary. You didn’t tell things you wouldn’t tell—hadn’t told—your best friend to a man like that, did you?

  Of course you didn’t. It was crazy.

  Knowing it was crazy, Zoe watched a fly walk across the ceiling towards one of the panels of white light and said idly, ‘You remember those oddballs we were talking about earlier?’

  ‘Lovebirds and pair-bonders?’ he said in a still voice. ‘Are you telling me you’re secretly married, Discovery?’

  A little laugh shook her.

  ‘No. Odder than that. Sorry, Jay, you’ve got a real weirdo on your hands this time. I’m a virgin.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  JAY stared at her. She did not look at him. Her eyes were fixed dr
eamily on the ceiling. She looked tired to death. But she did not look as if she was drunk. Or lying.

  He said cautiously, ‘Is this a wind-up?’ Of course she could have gone mad. ‘You’re telling me you’re—er—untouched by human hand?’

  Zoe’s tired eyes lit with a rueful smile. ‘Yup. That’s about the size of it.’

  Jay saw the smile with relief. Well, at least she wasn’t completely barking yet. He thought about what she had said for several moments.

  At last he said, ‘Why?’

  She avoided his eyes. It did not take much to work out that she was embarrassed. Covering it well, but embarrassed all the same.

  Another argument for her sanity, judged Jay. He thought fast. Undoubted sanity made her claim all the more odd.

  She was gorgeous. She was funny. She was sensible. She could not be a virgin. Not in metropolitan London in the twenty-first century.

  She saw his disbelief. Her eyes slid away from his. ‘I suppose I just—never got round to it.’

  ‘Ah.’ Curiouser and curiouser. ‘But actually I meant— why tell me?’

  She flushed faintly. ‘Oh. Sorry. That.’ She considered. ‘You said, Want to tell me about it? People don’t usually say that to me,’ she said simply.

  Jay stared. ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t have crises. My friends and family have lots. So I’m the one who listens.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘Makes sense.’

  It didn’t. It had to be a lot more complicated than that. But now was not the time to point it out. Not if he wanted her to carry on confiding.

  Jay was astonished at how much he wanted her to confide in him.

  She gave a rueful laugh. ‘You’re kind, aren’t you?’ She sounded surprised.

  ‘Is that so unbelievable?’ said Jay, wounded. Then, hurriedly, as she opened her mouth, ‘Don’t answer that.’

  She smiled, more easily this time. ‘Well, you have to admit, you did warn me against—er—intimacy. You said it was a sacking offence.’

  ‘I didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to tell me things.’

  ‘Didn’t you?’ Her eyes were shadowed. ‘But that’s the start of intimacy, isn’t it? Telling someone something private. Something—special. Something you don’t want to tell the world.’

  Was that she what she had done? Told him something she didn’t want to tell the world?

  Yes, he thought. Suddenly he felt ten feet tall.

  Aloud, he said, ‘When I warned you off, I’m afraid I was thinking of something a bit more basic. It included sending me overheated e-mails and trying to get my clothes off.’

  ‘Oh!’

  He smiled at her, straight into her eyes, the way he always did to women who moved him. ‘As long as you keep your hands to yourself, you can tell me anything you want to.’

  But she wasn’t noticing the penetrating smile. She was too busy picking over her own part in the conversation.

  She shook her head ruefully. ‘It doesn’t begin to make sense. Why on earth would I start unloading on a man who pays my salary? It’s not only unprofessional, it’s a quick and easy way to talk myself out of a job.’

  He realised, suddenly, that he had not been thinking of her as an employee for hours. Even before she had dropped her confiding bombshell. Certainly he would never have said, Want to tell me about it? to Barbara Lessiter. Or anyone else in the office, probably.

  It started another idea running. Not a welcome one.

  ‘Do you want to talk yourself out of a job?’

  ‘Oh.’ Zoe looked astonished. ‘No, of course not. I like what I do. I like helping Abby and Molly and Tom. I like doing your research. I was even wondering if there might be a chance of a permanent job—’ She broke off, flushing deeper. ‘No, I didn’t mean that. Hell, I’m being stupid tonight.’

  She jumped up and walked about the overlit room for a bit.

  She was making a valiant attempt to curb it but she looked really upset. He saw that she was biting her lip and she was frowning.

  Jay did not say anything. But he was relieved that she did not want to leave him. Hugely relieved. He was not quite sure why. It seemed out of all proportion.

  Though Zoe Brown was good at her job, no question. One of the best they’d ever had, in fact. But even so—when had he last cared enough about whether someone joined the firm to hold his breath in case they turned him down?

  He did not like the implications of that. He put it out of his mind. Now was the time to address himself to immediate problems, he thought. That was what he was good at: problem- solving. He brought his cellphone out of his pocket and went into practical mode.

  Eventually Zoe stopped pacing and came and stood in front of him. She looked oddly young and brave, in her tired party gear.

  ‘I’m sorry. This is the last time and place to start hustling for a job. I apologise,’ she said formally.

  He was not going to let her see his relief. Of course he wasn’t. Especially as he was not sure where it came from. He didn’t share things he didn’t understand.

  Instead he gave her one of his best knock-’em-dead smiles. Not the one for women who moved him. The one for women he wanted—needed—to charm.

  ‘I agree. We’ll talk about the job in the office.’

  He meant, And now we’ll talk about you and your extraordinary announcement. Only she took it as a rebuke. She hardly seemed to notice the high-voltage charm. Instead, she looked away.

  ‘Okay,’ she said in a constrained voice.

  Then the nurse came back with the doctor. And it was too late to explain that he hated the idea of her leaving.

  They were intending to keep Ms Lessiter in for observation for twenty-four hours, they said. They thought it was just the drink, but they weren’t quite sure what was going on. And as they could find her a bed—for once—they would run some more tests in the morning.

  Jay nodded. ‘And after that? Will she need to be looked after?’

  The doctor grinned. ‘My guess is that she’ll have the mother and father of a hangover and the ward staff will give her hell. Apart from that she should be fine. This is just a precaution.’

  Jay nodded. ‘Keep me posted.’ He fished out one of his business cards. ‘If there’s anything wrong I will get in touch with her family. But they don’t live in London. And I don’t see much point in letting them know their daughter has been partying too hard, do you? Not if that’s all it is.’

  The nurse took the business card.

  ‘So you’re not—er—her partner?’

  ‘Former employer,’ said Jay briefly. ‘And—before you ask—I’m not doing cold compresses and warm drinks for Banana Lessiter. It wouldn’t be safe. If she needs nursing I’ll pay for it. But that’s where my responsibility stops.’

  The nurse looked rather shocked, but the doctor laughed. ‘It shouldn’t come to that. But call tomorrow and she can tell you herself.’

  Jay hesitated. ‘Can we see her?’

  ‘If you like. She’s making sense of a sort.’

  She was making enough sense to rear up from her hospital trolley and fling herself onto Jay’s breast.

  ‘Take me home. I wanna take your clothes off…’

  Zoe blenched, and even the tolerant doctor looked taken aback. Only Jay was unmoved. He detached the girl’s indecently busy hands without fuss.

  ‘We’ve been through this before,’ he said calmly. ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’

  ‘But I wanna—’

  ‘Got it,’ said Jay. ‘You want. I don’t. No room for negotiation on this one. Sorry and all that.’

  The doctor looked at him with admiration bordering on awe. ‘She does this often?’

  Jay stepped back and checked the fastenings of his clothes. ‘Couple of times. She hasn’t been tanked out of her head before,’ he added fair-mindedly. ‘But she wasn’t listening to reason, either. The only thing is to say no and keep on saying it as you back out of the door.’

  They exchanged a look of total masculine
comprehension.

  ‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ said the doctor. He sounded as if he meant it.

  Banana let out a wail like a thwarted six-year-old. The nurse urged her down again, repressing a smile.

  ‘Relax. A porter will be taking you up to the ward in a few minutes.’

  Jay looked at Zoe. ‘Well, that seems to let us off the hook. Coming?’

  She said goodbye to Banana, who ignored her, and followed him out of the hospital.

  ‘I’ll have to find the bus stop for—’

  ‘I’ll take you home, of course,’ he said, shocked.

  ‘And how are you going to do that?’ she said dryly.

  He stepped out of the brightly lit entrance. In the darkness an engine switched on. From the shadows a car detached itself and slid up to the kerb in front of them. Zoe stared at it, half-astonished, half-annoyed.

  ‘Don’t tell me. You’re a magician.’

  Jay shook his head. ‘Just a guy with a cellphone and a friendly limo service,’ he told her solemnly.

  ‘A friendly limo service that follows you around after dark?’

  He laughed aloud at that. ‘No. They already knew I’d need a car some time tonight. I just called them when you were pacing around back there.’

  ‘Oh.’

  He opened the door behind the chauffeur for her. ‘Where am I taking you?’

  She gave him the address.

  It was not what he was expecting. Annoyed with this further failure on the part of his office administration, he raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought you lived in North London?’

  He saw that she was surprised. ‘I do. But when I know I’m going to be out really late I beg a bed for the night from a friend. No taxi driver in the known world wants to go to Muswell Hill after midnight.’

  ‘Ah.’

  He closed the door behind her and gave the address to the driver. Then went round the car and got in beside her. It was a big car. He had room to stretch out his long legs. There was also plenty of room on the back seat. And if Zoe did not exactly huddle in the corner—well, she made sure that there were several cubic feet of air space between their bodies.