The Boss's Virgin

by Charlotte Lamb

  Johnny talked excitedly about an adventure trip he had been taken on by the school the previous week. ‘We camped in the woods and did canoeing and climbed trees—I climbed to the top of one, and I didn’t fall out, but Jamie fell and broke his wrist so he can’t do games or swim and can only write one-handed. And we ran races. I got a blister as big as this…’ He measured an improbable size with his fingers. ‘It burst and pink stuff came out…’

  ‘Thank you, very interesting, but no medical details while we’re eating,’ his father said. ‘I’m glad you had a great time. But be careful climbing trees. You don’t want to break your wrist, do you?’

  ‘No. Jamie screamed,’ Johnny said thoughtfully. ‘Screamed and screamed. And now he’s got plaster on his wrist and can’t do anything. We all wrote our names on the plaster and drew cartoons.’

  As they were drinking their coffee Renata and the blond Australian came past and paused. She gave a dazzling smile to Randal and purred, ‘We’d like to take Johnny for a drive to have tea somewhere—would that be okay? It’s ages since I saw him. Please, Randal?’

  Randal considered her dispassionately, his grey eyes remote, then looked at his son. ‘Up to you, Johnny. Do you want to go for a drive with Mummy and Alex?’

  Pippa read his uneasy hesitation, the uncertainty in his eyes. He sneaked a look at the blond golf champion. Was Alex a hero to him? wondered Pippa as he slowly said, ‘Well, okay, then, if you don’t mind, Dad.’

  ‘Whatever you want to do is okay with me, Johnny,’ Randal reassured firmly, and the boy’s face lightened.

  ‘Come on,’ Renata said, offering her hand, and he got up from the table and went with her. Over her shoulder she said to Randal, ‘See you at dinner.’

  When they had gone Randal let out a long, rough sigh. ‘There wasn’t any choice, was there? I couldn’t refuse to let him go while he was there, listening. I don’t want him blaming me because he never sees her.’

  ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t. You seem to have a great relationship, the two of you.’

  He smiled at her. ‘Do you think so? Well, I hope so. It isn’t that I want to stop her seeing him—I wish she visited him more often—but Renata is given to arbitrary fits of spite. She might suddenly decide to take off with him, not bring him back—only to get bored with the game after a day or two and dump him, and Johnny could get hurt.’

  Dryly, Pippa said, ‘I don’t think she’ll run off with him. I think she’s looking forward to playing a very different game tonight, at dinner.’

  He gave her a shrewd, sharp look. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Pippa lifted a shoulder in a shrug. ‘She may enjoy having a succession of men, but I got the impression she was still interested in you. Maybe she’s the type to want to keep any man she’s owned once on a leash, and she resents the fact that you got away.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ he asked, finishing his coffee.

  Pippa did not add that she also suspected that his ex-wife had not been pleased to see him with another woman, especially one who was a good ten years younger.

  ‘If you’re ready, shall we check out our rooms and unpack?’ he suggested, rising, and she agreed, following him out to the reception area. They collected their keys and took the lift upstairs to the first floor.

  Pippa let herself into her own room; Randal stood at the door, staring round, frowning. The room was small but comfortable, with a single bed. On a luggage rack against the wall stood Johnny’s overnight bag.

  ‘They obviously thought Johnny was going to be using this room,’ Pippa said, seeing a connecting door open, leading into another room.

  Randal walked over there and went through into what turned out to be a sitting room. Pippa followed him across that into a third room, a spacious double bedroom with twin beds covered in blue silk brocade that matched the floor-length curtains. It was a charming room, with elegant eighteenth-century furniture. On the luggage rack were her suitcase and Randal’s side by side.

  She turned on him. ‘You can’t have made it clear that this room was for you and Johnny! They obviously thought you and I would be sharing this room, while the smaller room was for the child.’

  ‘I didn’t discuss the sleeping arrangements with the booking staff!’ he said irritably. ‘I just asked for a double suite and one single room. I’ll ring down now and get you a better room.’

  ‘No, don’t bother—that room is fine.’ She picked up her own case. ‘I’ll unpack. Would you collect Johnny’s case and unpack for him?’

  He took her case from her. ‘Look, I’m sorry, Pippa. I didn’t realise they would give you such a tiny room.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter; it’s only for a couple of days.’

  ‘You can use the sitting room as much as you like!’ he offered in placation, carrying her case into her small bedroom.

  She deliberately checked that there was a bolt on the inside of her bedroom door. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Will you mind having dinner with Renata and Alex tonight?’ he asked, removing Johnny’s case from the luggage rack.

  ‘No, why should I?’ She put her case on the bed and unlocked it. Casually, she asked, ‘You knew she was going to be here, didn’t you? That’s why you were so insistent I should come with you. I’m here as a trophy, to let her know you aren’t still pining for her, you’ve already found another woman.’

  His face filled with angry dark red, his eyes flashed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! I told you, she rarely comes to see Johnny. I didn’t expect to see her here!’

  She did not believe him. Renata had said she had hinted that she might come, and Randal’s pride, his male ego, had needed to convince his ex-wife that he had another woman, she needn’t think he wasn’t missing her.

  Randal had been using her! Pippa felt jealousy and resentment burning deep inside, twisting like a knife in her entrails. All the way here, to the school, she had been wondering what might happen in this hotel, had been trying to work out how to keep Randal at bay, make certain he didn’t try to share her bed once his son was asleep. She had been shaking with excitement and passion, too, because even while she was determined he should not make love to her she couldn’t help wanting to be in his arms. It might be contradictory, irrational, crazy, but her body ached for his, however hard she tried to convince herself he was forbidden to her.

  It hadn’t even occurred to her that his ex-wife might turn up, or that Randal might have brought her along as a shield against Renata realising he still wanted her.

  Because he must still want his ex-wife, or why would he have been so insistent about Pippa coming with him? She had seen his face at lunch, when he first glimpsed Renata across the room. She had seen his clenched features, the taut jawline, the glitter of his eyes. He still wanted Renata; he was jealous of the tall, tanned Australian golfer who, Pippa angrily decided, was a perfect match for the luscious blonde. They might have been made for each other, in fact, although Randal obviously wouldn’t be too pleased if she told him so.

  She started unpacking, walking to and fro, sliding clothes into drawers, hanging others up in the tiny wardrobe.

  ‘Do you want me to unpack for Johnny, or will you?’ she said without looking at him.

  ‘You’re jealous,’ he said suddenly. ‘You’re jealous of Renata, aren’t you?’ He was at her elbow a second later, grabbing her by the shoulders and swinging her round to face him. ‘Ever since we met again you’ve been trying to convince me you’re indifferent, never want to see me again—but you’re jealous of Renata, which proves you’re nothing of the kind. You can’t be jealous if you’re indifferent.’

  ‘I am not jealous!’ she furiously snapped.

  ‘Oh, yes, you are. I can see it in those big green eyes.’ He held her away from him, gazing down into those eyes, his own flickering and gleaming, silvery stars.

  ‘Pure imagination,’ she flung back. ‘Wishful thinking!’

  His voice husky, he whispered, ‘Believe me, Pippa, I never expected to see Renata
here. I meant what I said—I wanted you and Johnny to get to know each other. And—’ He broke off and she watched him suspiciously, trying to probe behind his features, see inside his head, read his mind.

  ‘And what?’ she insisted.

  He hesitated. ‘Nothing. I forget what I was going to say.’

  ‘I don’t believe you! Come on, you started to say something—finish it!’

  He grimaced. ‘Okay, but you won’t like it! I was going to say I wanted to spend the weekend with you!’ He pulled her closer, his eyes eating her. ‘You kept saying you didn’t want to see me again, but I wasn’t giving up. I meant to keep in contact with you.’ One hand ran down her spine, over the soft silk of her dress, slowly, caressingly. When it reached the hem just above her knees, he pushed her dress upward, slid his hand up inside, between her thighs, fingertips sensuously brushing the inner secret heat, forcing a cry of excitement from her.

  ‘You see? You want me,’ he whispered, bending his head. His tongue-tip softly stroked her mouth. ‘Close contact, that’s what we both need.’ He groaned, pulled her hard so that their bodies collided, touched, from shoulder to thigh. ‘I need to touch you, make love to you.’

  ‘No, don’t! Stop that,’ she broke out, trembling violently, her mouth hot from the mere touch of his tongue. She was aware of his body touching hers everywhere, the heat between them intolerable.

  ‘And you need it, too, whether you’ll admit it or not,’ he muttered, one hand on her back, pressing her hard against him while he cradled her head in his spread fingers with the other, manoeuvring it into position so that he could kiss her.

  She would rather die than admit anything of the kind, and she resisted his fierce, invading mouth, struggling so hard he shifted his hand from her spine to her waist and held her possessively, his hand just below her breast.

  Her treacherous mouth had parted to admit him, her body clung hotly to his, but she still struggled—so furiously that the two of them swayed and toppled on to the bed, knocking her suitcase off, on to the floor, spilling her clothes in all directions.

  ‘Let go, let go,’ she cried, pushing at his wide shoulders.

  Randal looked down at her, eyes half-open, smouldering, languorous, and her mouth went dry at the expression in those eyes.

  He moved his hand to touch her breast and she drew a shaken breath. He slid an arm under her, lifting her, swiftly pulled her dress over her head, followed by her lacy white chemise and then her bra. She fought him uselessly, tried to stop him stripping her, but his deft fingers were too fast and certain. In seconds she was naked all but her brief white panties.

  ‘You’re so lovely,’ Randal groaned, letting her slip back on to the bed and lying next to her. His grey eyes wandered freely over her nakedness, sensuously explored her breasts, moved downwards to her hips and thighs. He leaned over to kiss the pale flesh his eyes had just discovered. ‘Beautiful,’ he whispered.

  Her eyes closed helplessly as his mouth heatedly caressed her breast, his hands stroking below, over her hips. Her tiny panties slid down; alarm shot through her as that last barrier went and she recognised that if she didn’t stop him now he was going to take her and she would not be able to resist him.

  She tried to struggle up, get off the bed, but he pulled her back so that her thighs fell open with him sliding between them. She wished desperately that it did not seem so natural to her to have them there, fitting with her like spoons in a drawer.

  ‘I won’t let you!’ she gasped.

  ‘Well, I won’t force you,’ he said thickly, staring down at her smooth bare flesh. ‘But I need you, Pippa, my God, I need you.’ He kissed her again, deeply, passionately, and her eyes shut again, her lips moved in hot response, her body quivered. Every time he kissed her, touched her, he got the same reaction; she could not help it, even though she angrily despised herself for being so weak and foolish. Had her mind no control at all over her treacherous body, then?

  Through the feverish clouds of her pleasure she suddenly realised Randal was taking off his jacket, then he was shrugging out of his shirt. He was stripping, she thought, appalled! As she realised what was happening she felt his legs kicking his trousers away.

  Events were moving far too fast. She must stop it now, before it was too late!

  But it was already too late. Randal was between her parted thighs and now he was naked, too, his bare skin brushing hers sensuously, his hands sliding beneath her, lifting her buttocks off the bed so that her knees fell apart.

  ‘Randal, don’t!’ she groaned. ‘I’ve never…I’m a… It would be my first time and I can’t, not like this!’

  ‘Sweet,’ he whispered, kissing her. ‘That’s what I love about you, your innocence, your integrity and sense of self-respect. They are what make you the woman I adore.’ His kiss deepened, took fire, until she drowned in it, forgetting everything else but him, her arms round his back, her body clinging to his.

  ‘You’re mine. You know you are,’ Randal breathed against her parted, hungry lips. ‘And I want you to be part of me, for ever.’

  She wanted that, too, but she mustn’t admit it. Between her thighs he moved in a slow, sensuous rhythm, and she moaned with pleasure, moving, too, opening to the seduction of that brushing contact. The pressure deepened, she felt him pushing into her, then a sharp pain. She gave a cry, ‘You’re hurting! Don’t!’ and tried to push him off, her palms flat on his naked chest.

  Randal kissed her harder, groaning. ‘Don’t ask me to stop now, darling, not now, so close…’

  Another pang of pain, fiercer, and then he was deep inside her, filling her, and she lay still, breathing wildly, feeling an intolerable ache of pain and satisfaction and desire. What was the point now of denying that she wanted this, had longed to merge with him, be part of him?

  His mouth moved down to her breasts, sucked at her nipples, his hands cupping the warm, rounded flesh until she relaxed again, her pain forgotten, and a moment later he began moving again, his hot, hard flesh probing inside her, setting off jangling pulses in places where she had not known they existed, sending waves of ecstatic sensation through her entire body.

  Over the next few minutes she almost lost consciousness, mind drowning in physical sensations, holding him, moving with him, mindlessly, sobbing in ecstasy. The next clear awareness she had was of lying still, limp and drained, with Randal collapsed on top of her, while tears ran down her face.

  Suddenly he rolled off her. They were separate again and she felt cold and lonely, losing him.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ he whispered. ‘What is it? Did I really hurt you?’

  She put her hands over her face, shuddering in sobs, couldn’t answer. She didn’t even know why she was crying; it certainly wasn’t with pain, but in a sort of desolation. After the intense pleasure she had been through she had come down from a wild peak into this darkness and misery.

  Randal pulled her hands down, leaning over to stare at her, then began kissing her wet lids shut, kissing her nose, her cheeks, her trembling lips.

  ‘Stop it, Pippa, stop crying. I’m sorry, don’t be unhappy. It was selfish of me, but I was afraid you would vanish again after this weekend, and I couldn’t bear it. I had to stop you somehow, make you stay. I thought…’

  ‘Thought what?’ she muttered, sat up and grabbed her dress, hurriedly put it on, wishing he wouldn’t watch her.

  He sighed. ‘That if you finally let me make love to you, you’d stay. There’s an old legend about a mermaid, who fell in love with a human man, but kept going back into the sea until he made love to her and then she became human and they were married and lived happily.’

  ‘Until one day the call of the sea was too strong and she vanished again, this time for ever,’ Pippa recalled.

  He grimaced. ‘Is that how the legend ends? I only remembered…’

  ‘The bit you wanted to come true?’ she mocked. ‘How convenient! Well, I’m going to have a shower, and I’d like you to go back to your own room, please.’
>
  ‘We have to talk!’

  ‘We’ve done enough talking. Randal, I need to take a shower. Please leave.’

  He rolled off the bed and collected up his clothes. She knew she shouldn’t watch him, but she couldn’t take her eyes off that long, lean, supple, naked body which had just taken her to heaven and back. Randal walked to the door without bothering to dress and she padded barefoot after him to bolt the door behind him.

  Wryly, she faced the fact that she was locking the stable door after the horse had bolted. All these years she had avoided making love to him, to anyone, and finally it had happened. She was aching physically, body burning, bruised, weary. What did she do now? She asked herself as she went into the bathroom to shower. What in God’s name did she do now?

  She discarded her green dress and stepped under the shower, washed from head to foot, the warm water sluicing over her, trying to think, trying to understand how everything had changed over what had just happened.

  Randal was right. She groaned, closing her eyes. Oh, he was much too shrewd; he understood her far too well. Nothing would ever be the same again. In taking her just now, he had conquered, had shattered all her arguments, her reasons for saying no to him.

  He had realised what she had always known, that she had been dying to make love with him for so long, but had resisted him under the lash of her rational mind—and now it had happened, and she was different. As Randal had intended, she felt differently.

  Or did she?

  She walked out of the shower and put on a white towelling robe, towelled her damp chestnut hair, looking at herself in the cloudy bathroom mirror. Her green eyes held a bleak realisation now.

  Had those moments of bliss and intimacy altered anything? He would still put his son first if it came to it. He would never put her first. She would never matter more to him than anyone else in the world.

  Nothing important had changed. She still did not want to accept second place in his life. She still couldn’t stay with him; she had to go away.

  Like the mermaid in the legend she would have to vanish, this time for ever.