His Christmas Virgin

by Carole Mortimer

  Jonas scowled. ‘What the hell does that mean?’

  She gave an awkward shrug. ‘I—This apartment is way out of my stratosphere. That bottle of wine you just opened probably cost what some people earn in a week.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I am what I am. How I am. I hate dressing up in fancy clothes and “being seen”.’ She winced. ‘I’ve already been through one experience where a man thought I would make a nice trophy to show off on his arm at parties—’

  ‘And you think that’s what I want, too?’ Jonas asked.

  Mac looked a little confused. ‘I’m not really sure what you want from me.’

  ‘Then that makes two of us,’ Jonas told her with a sigh. ‘For some inexplicable reason you have a strange effect on me, Mary “Mac” McGuire.’ His gaze held hers as he reached out and took the wine glass from her slightly trembling fingers, placing it on the table beside his own before grasping Mac’s arms to pull her slowly to her feet so that she stood only inches away from him.

  Jonas looked down at her searchingly, noting the almost feverish glitter in those smoky grey eyes, the flush to her cheeks, and the unevenness of her breathing through slightly parted lips. Parted lips that were begging to be kissed.

  His expression was grim as he resisted that dangerous temptation. ‘I’m going through to my bedroom now to change out of my suit. If you decide you don’t want to stay and help me cook dinner then I suggest you leave before I get back.’ He released her abruptly before turning on his heel and going out of the room in the direction of his bedroom further down the hallway.

  Mac was still trembling somewhat as she stood alone in the kitchen. She should do as Jonas suggested and leave before he came back. She knew that she should. Yet she didn’t want to. What she wanted to do was stay right here and spend the evening cooking dinner with him before they sat down together to eat it in this warm and comfortable kitchen…

  Except she knew that Jonas wasn’t suggesting they just cook and eat dinner together. Her remaining here would mean she was also agreeable to repeating their earlier shared kisses.

  Mac sat down abruptly, totally undecided about what to do. She should go. But she didn’t want to. She knew she shouldn’t allow that explosive passion with Jonas at the restaurant to happen again. But she wanted to!

  She was still sitting there pondering her dilemma when Jonas came back into the kitchen, her breath catching in her throat as she saw him casually dressed for the first time. The thin black cashmere sweater was moulded to wide shoulders and the flatness of his chest and stomach, jeans that were faded from age and wear rather than designer-styled to be that way sat low down on his hips and emphasised the muscled length of his legs, and his feet were as bare as her own had been earlier when Bob Jenkins had arrived at the warehouse to replace her broken window. They were long and somehow graceful feet, their very bareness seeming to increase the intimacy of the situation.

  Jonas looked everything that was tall, dark, and most definitely dangerous!

  Mac raised startled eyes. ‘I decided to stay long enough to help you cook dinner at least.’

  Jonas’s enigmatic expression, as he stood in the doorway, gave away none of his thoughts. ‘Did you?’

  She stood up quickly, already regretting that decision as she felt the rising sexual tension in the room, her pulse actually racing.

  Even breathing was becoming difficult. ‘Would you like me to help prepare the vegetables or something?’ she offered lamely.

  Jonas very much doubted that Mac wanted to hear what he would have liked to ask her to do at this particular moment. He had never before even thought about sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs with a woman’s naked thighs straddled either side of him as he surged up into the heat of her, but the idea certainly had appeal right now. Making love to Mac anywhere appealed to him right now!

  ‘Or something,’ he murmured self-derisively as he made himself walk across to the refrigerator and open the door to look inside at the contents. ‘I have the makings of a vegetable and chicken stir-fry if that appeals?’ He looked at her enquiringly.

  ‘That sounds fine.’

  Jonas was frowning slightly as he straightened. ‘Wouldn’t you be more comfortable out of those leathers? Unless of course you aren’t wearing anything underneath?’ he added mockingly. ‘In which case, neither of us is going to be comfortable once you’ve taken them off!’

  It was time to put a stop to this right now, Mac decided. They hadn’t even got as far as cooking dinner yet and already Jonas was talking about taking her clothes off!

  ‘Of course I’m wearing something underneath,’ she said, scowling at Jonas’s deliberate teasing, sitting down to remove her boots before unzipping the leathers and taking them off to reveal she was wearing a long-sleeved white t-shirt and snug-fitting jeans above black socks. ‘Satisfied?’ she challenged as she stood up to lay her leathers over one of the kitchen chairs and place her heavy boots beside it.

  ‘Not hardly,’ Jonas murmured.

  ‘Jonas!’

  ‘Mac?’ He raised innocent brows.

  She drew in a deep, controlling breath. ‘Just tell me what vegetables you want me to wash and cut up,’ she muttered bad-temperedly.

  ‘Yes, ma’am!’ he shot back.

  To Mac’s surprise they worked quite harmoniously together as they prepared and then cooked the food, sitting down at the table to eat it not half an hour later. ‘You said you’ll be moving from here soon?’ she reminded Jonas curiously as she looked across the table at him.

  He nodded as he put his fork down on his plate and drank some of his wine before answering her. ‘By this time next year we should be neighbours.’

  Mac’s eyes widened. ‘You’re moving into the apartment complex next to me once it’s finished being built?’

  Jonas didn’t think she could have sounded any more horrified if he had said he was actually moving in with her. ‘That’s the plan, yes,’ he confirmed dryly. ‘Unless, of course, you decide to sell and move out, after all.’

  Her mouth firmed. ‘No, I can safely assure you that I have no intention of ever doing that.’

  Jonas frowned. ‘Why the hell not?’

  ‘It’s difficult to explain.’

  ‘Try,’ he invited grimly.

  Mac frowned. ‘The warehouse belonged to my great-grandfather originally, then to my grandfather. Years ago my great-grandfather owned a small fleet of boats, for delivering cargos to other parts of England. Obviously long before we had the huge container trucks that clog up the roads nowadays.’ She chewed distractedly on her bottom lip.

  Jonas’s gaze was riveted on those tiny white teeth nibbling on the fullness of her bottom lip, that ache returning to his thighs as he easily imagined being the one doing the biting…

  For the moment Mac seemed unaware of the heated intensity of his gaze. ‘I spent a lot of time there with my grandfather when I was a child, and when he died he left it to me,’ she finished with a shrug.

  Jonas forced himself to drag his gaze from the sensual fullness of her lips. ‘So you’re saying you want to keep it because it has sentimental value?’

  ‘Something like that, yes.’

  ‘Your grandfather didn’t want to leave the property to your parents?’

  It really was difficult for Mac to explain the affinity that had existed between her grandfather and herself. How he had understood the love and affection she felt for the rambling warehouse beside the river. How living and working there now made Mac feel that she still had that connection to her grandfather. ‘My parents had already moved out of London to live in Devon when my grandfather died, and so didn’t want or need it.’

  ‘No siblings for you to share with?’

  ‘No. You?’ Mac asked with interest, deciding she had probably talked about herself enough for one evening.

  Jonas’s mouth thinned. ‘I believe my parents considered that one mistake was enough.’

  Mac gasped, not quite sure what to say
in answer to a statement like that. ‘I’m sure they didn’t think of you as a mistake—’

  ‘Then you would be wrong, Mac,’ he said dryly. ‘My parents were both only nineteen when they got married, and then it was only because my mother was expecting me. She would have been better off—we all would have—if she had either got rid of the baby or settled for being a single mother.’ He finished drinking the wine in his glass, offering to refill Mac’s glass before refilling his own when she shook her head in refusal.

  Mac had continued to eat while they talked, but she gave up all pretence of that after Jonas’s comment that his mother should have got rid of him rather than marry his father!

  Jonas looked bitter. ‘I have no doubts that your own childhood was one of love and indulgence with parents and a family who loved you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted with slight discomfort.

  Jonas gave a hard smile. ‘Don’t look so apologetic, Mac. It’s the way it should be, after all,’ he said bleakly. ‘Unfortunately, it so often isn’t. I believe it took a couple of years for the novelty to wear off and the cracks to start appearing in my own parents’ marriage, then ten years or more for them to realise they couldn’t stand the sight of each other. Or me,’ he added flatly.

  Mac gave a pained wince. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong about that, Jonas.’

  ‘I’m sure your romantic little heart wants me to be wrong about that, Mac,’ he corrected.

  He meant his mockery of her to wound, and it did, but Mac’s ‘romantic little heart’ also told her that Jonas’s taunts hid the pain and disillusionment that had helped to mould him into the hard and resilient man he was today. That had made him into a man who rejected all the softer emotions, such as love, in favour of making a success of his life through his own hard work and sheer determination. That had made him into a man who didn’t even bother to put up Christmas decorations in his apartment…

  ‘Your parents are divorced now?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, thank God,’ he replied. ‘After years of basically ignoring each other, and me, they finally separated when I was thirteen and divorced a couple of years later.’

  Mac didn’t even like to think of the damage they had done in those thirteen years, not only to each other, but most especially to Jonas, the child caught in the middle of all that hostility.

  ‘Which one did you live with after the separation?’

  ‘Neither of them,’ Jonas bit out with satisfaction. ‘I had my own grandfather I went to live with. My father’s father. Although I doubt Joseph was the warm and fuzzy type your own grandfather sounds,’ he added.

  Mac doubted it too, if Jonas had actually called his grandfather by his first name, and if the expression on Jonas’s face was anything to go by!

  Jonas would have found Mac’s obvious dismay amusing if it weren’t his own childhood they were discussing. Something that was unusual in itself when Jonas usually went out of his way not to talk about himself. But it was better that Mac knew all there was to know about him now. To be made aware that falling in love and getting married wasn’t, and never would be, a part of his future. Jonas had seen firsthand the pain and disillusionment that supposed emotion caused, and he wanted no part of it. Not now or ever.

  ‘You said earlier that you didn’t belong in these surroundings,’ Jonas reminded her. ‘Well, neither do I. My parents were poor, and my grandfather Joseph was a rough, tough man who worked on a building site all his life. I’ve worked hard for what I have, Mac.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to imply—’

  ‘Didn’t you?’ He gave her a grim smile. ‘I probably owe part of my success to the fact that my grandfather had no time for slackers,’ he continued relentlessly. ‘You either worked to pay your way or you got out. I decided to work. My parents had both remarried by the time I was sixteen and disappeared off into the sunset—’

  ‘Jonas!’ Mac choked as she sat forward to place her hand over his as it lay curled into a fist on the tabletop.

  He pulled his hand away sharply, determined to finish this now that he had started. Mac should know exactly what she was getting into if she decided to become involved with him. Exactly! ‘In between working with my grandfather before and after school and cooking for the two of us, I also worked hard to get my A levels. Then I worked my way through university and gained a Masters degree in Mathematics before going into architecture. I worked my ba—’ He broke off with an apologetic grimace. ‘I worked hard for one of the best architecture companies in London for a couple of years, before I was lucky enough to have a couple of my designs taken up by a man called Joel Baxter. Have you heard of him?’

  Mac’s eyes were wide. ‘The man who makes billions out of computer games and software?’

  ‘That’s the one,’ Jonas confirmed. ‘Strangely, we became friends. He convinced me I should go out on my own, that I needed to take control of the whole construction of the building and not just the design of it, that I would never make money working for someone else. It was a struggle to start with, but I took his advice, and, as they say, the rest is history.’ He gave a dismissive shrug.

  Yes, it was. Mac was aware of the well-publicised overnight success of Buchanan Construction—which obviously hadn’t been any such thing but was simply the result of Jonas’s own hard work and determination to succeed.

  She moistened dry lips. ‘Are you and Joel Baxter still friends?’

  Jonas’s expression softened slightly. ‘Yeah. Joel’s one of the good guys.’

  Mac brightened slightly. ‘And your parents, surely they must be proud of you? Of what you’ve achieved?’

  Jonas’s eyes hardened to icy chips. ‘I haven’t seen either one of them since my father attended my grandfather’s funeral when I was nineteen.’

  Mac looked at him incredulously. ‘That’s—that’s unbelievable!’

  He looked at her coldly. ‘Is it?’

  ‘Well. Yes.’ She shook her head. ‘Look at you now, all that you’ve achieved, surely—’

  ‘I didn’t say that they hadn’t wanted to see me again, Mac,’ Jonas cut in. ‘Once Buchanan Construction became known as a multimillion-pound worldwide enterprise, they both crawled out of the woodwork to claim their only lost son,’ he recalled bitterly.

  Mac swallowed hard. ‘And?’

  ‘And I didn’t want anything to do with either of them,’ he said emotionlessly.

  Mac could understand, after all that had gone before, why Jonas felt the way that he did about seeing his parents again. Understand his feelings on the subject, maybe, but accepting it, when the situation between Jonas and his parents remained unresolved, was something else. Or perhaps he considered that just not seeing or having anything to do with his parents was the solution?

  She looked sad. ‘They’ve missed out on so much.’

  Jonas lifted an unconcerned shoulder. ‘I suppose that depends upon your perspective.’

  Mac’s perspective was that Jonas’s parents had obviously been too young when they married each other and had Jonas, but it in no way excused their behaviour towards him. He had been an innocent child caught up in the battleground that had become their marriage.

  Was it any wonder that Jonas was so hard and cynical? That he chose to concentrate all his energies on business relationships rather than personal ones?

  ‘Don’t go wasting any of your sympathy on me, Mac,’ he grated suddenly as he obviously clearly read the emotions on her face. ‘You told me earlier what you didn’t want, and the only reason I’ve told you these about myself is so that you’ll know the things I don’t want.’ He paused, his mouth tightening. ‘So that you understand there would be no future, no happy ever after, if you chose to have a relationship with me.’

  She raised startled eyes to look searchingly across the table at Jonas as he looked back at her so intensely. She saw and recognised the raw purpose in his gaze. The underlying warmth of seduction and sensuality in those hard and unblinking blue eyes.

  Chapter Seven

>   THE chair scraped noisily on the tiled floor as Mac suddenly stood up. ‘I think it’s time I was going.’

  ‘Running scared, after all, Mac?’ Jonas mocked, watching her through narrowed lids as she turned agitatedly to pick up her leathers.

  She dropped the leathers back onto the chair and faced him, her chin raised challengingly. ‘I’m not scared, Jonas, I just don’t think I can give you what you want.’

  ‘Oh, I think you can give me exactly what I want, Mac.’ He stood up slowly to move around the table to where she stood determinedly unmoving as she looked up at him. ‘Exactly what I want,’ he repeated as he reached out to curve his arms about her waist and pull her firmly up against him so that she could feel the evidence of what it was he wanted from her. All that Jonas wanted from her or any woman.

  Mac gasped as she felt the hardness of his arousal pressed revealingly against her. She felt an instant echoing of that arousal in her own body as heat coursed through her breasts to pool hotly between her thighs.

  God, she seriously wanted this man! Wanted him so badly that she ached with it. Longed to strip the clothes from both their bodies and have him surge hard and powerfully inside her and make her forget everything else but the desire that had burned so strongly between them ever since they’d met again at her exhibition on Saturday evening.

  She gave a desperate shake of her head. ‘I don’t do casual relationships, Jonas.’

  His face remained hard and determined. ‘Have you ever tried?’

  She swallowed. ‘No. But—’ Her protest ceased the moment that Jonas’s mouth claimed hers in a kiss so raw with hunger that she could only cling to the hard strength of his shoulders as she returned the heated hunger of that kiss.

  Jonas felt wrapped in the luscious smell and heat that was Mac, even as his hand moved unerringly to that strip of flesh between her T-shirt and jeans that had been tantalising him all evening. He needed to know if those full breasts were bare beneath that thin cotton top, and the first touch of her creamy flesh against Jonas’s fingertips made him groan low in his throat.