One Night On The Virgin's Terms (Mills & Boon Modern) (Wanted: A Billionaire, Book 1)

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘Look, if we’re going to do this, then I think we need to keep a low profile. I don’t want the press sniffing around and it getting back to Ronan.’

  Ivy could understand his guardedness on one level but another part of her wondered if his reluctance to be seen in public with her had more to do with her looks. She wasn’t his usual type. He went for tall and tanned leggy blondes, and she was short and curvy, her hair was red and her skin as white as milk. Not exactly billboard model material.

  ‘Fine. We can do that. When do we start?’

  He took a deep sip of his wine before he answered. ‘Are you free this Friday night?’

  Ivy rolled her eyes. ‘I’m free every Friday night. That’s the whole problem.’

  A smile played at the edges of his mouth. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with the young men in London to overlook you for all this time.’

  She gave him a rueful glance. ‘It’s not the young men that’s the problem. It’s me. I’ve refused heaps of offers of dates. But hopefully you’ll be able to fix me.’

  His smile faded and a frown appeared on his forehead. ‘You don’t need fixing, Ivy. There’s nothing wrong with you.’

  ‘What if I’m frigid? What if I can’t get over my inhibitions?’

  ‘We’ll work on building your confidence first and I bet the rest will sort itself out.’

  Ivy grasped his hand across the table. ‘Thank you.’

  He picked up her hand and brought it up to his lips, holding her gaze with the grey-blue intensity of his. He pressed a soft-as-air kiss to her bent knuckles, sending a wave of heat through her entire body. Electric fizzes and tingles that made her acutely aware of the throbbing pulse deep and low in her pelvis. She couldn’t break his gaze even if she’d wanted to. She was transfixed by the naked need she could see reflected there, the same need she could feel vibrating in her body.

  But he still hadn’t fully committed to sleeping with her and the clock was ticking as she approached her thirtieth birthday. Tick. Tick. Tick. What if he refused to do as she asked? What if his ‘possibility of sex’ became an impossibility for him? The thought of hooking up with a stranger was even more distressing to her now, especially since she had been kissed by Louis. His kiss had surprised and delighted her in a way no other kiss had. Her previous dates had kissed her, but those kisses hadn’t been a patch on Louis’. He’d suggested spending time together first, and that sounded all fine and dandy, but what she wanted—needed—was to offload her inhibitions. And the only way to do that was to get the deed done. With him.

  The moment was broken by the waiter turning up with their entrée but, all through the rest of the meal, Ivy was conscious of Louis’ every movement. It was as if her body’s radar had a new setting, aware of him in a way it hadn’t been before. His hands as he operated his cutlery. The movement of his lips as he took a sip of wine. The way his crisp ice-blue business shirt framed his broad shoulders and muscular chest. The tan of his skin that hinted at the amount of time he spent outdoors. The long, straight blade of his nose, the aristocratic contour of his cheekbones, the dark slash of his eyebrows above his sharply intelligent eyes.

  As far as the male package went, he had everything—looks, wealth, stability, sex appeal. Why hadn’t she noticed that brooding sex appeal before? Or maybe she had but had dismissed it, thinking he would never be interested in her.

  But he was interested in her. His kiss had proved that without a doubt. The chemistry between them was unmistakable, obvious even to someone with as little experience as her.

  Ivy picked up her napkin and dabbed at each corner of her mouth. ‘Just out of interest—have you ever made love to a virgin before?’

  Louis blinked as if her question had startled him out of a private reverie. ‘No.’ He put down his knife and fork in the ‘finished’ position on his dinner plate.

  Ivy picked up her wine glass, a strange tickly sensation trickling down the back of her legs. ‘Does the thought of doing so make you nervous?’

  His eyes came back to hers and another jolting sensation pulsed through her body. ‘No. I can see now how much your virginity is troubling you.’

  She studied him for a moment. ‘So, you’re really serious about helping me?’

  ‘One thing you should know about me, ma chérie. Once I commit to a goal, I always see it through. Always.’

  Ivy suppressed a delicious shudder. Lucky me.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘SO HOW DID your dinner with Louis Charpentier go?’ Zoey, her other flatmate, asked the next morning. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Millie told me about “the plan”. Did he agree to it?’

  So much for keeping her plan a secret. One thing was certain, Millie would never cut it as an undercover agent. ‘Yes and no. I think he’s stalling but I’m going to change his mind. I have to. I’ve only got a month to get this done.’ Ivy reached for a coffee pod and popped it in the machine. ‘We’re going out on Friday night.’ Saying those words out loud made her body tingle all over in anticipation. Louis hadn’t touched her again after he’d dropped her home the night before, and it surprised her how much she’d wanted him to.

  ‘Ooh! Where’s he taking you?’ Zoey leaned on the counter near the coffee machine, her own steaming cup cradled in her hands.

  ‘I don’t know. He didn’t say.’ Ivy spoke over the noise of the coffee machine. ‘Do you think I’m crazy to ask him to help me?’

  ‘Not really,’ Zoey said. ‘You’re friends, so you already trust him. That’s huge when it comes to physical intimacy.’

  ‘He’s not actually agreed to sleep with me, or at least not on the first date. He just wants to spend time with me first with sex being a possibility rather than a given. He thinks it will help me to gain more confidence around men.’

  ‘Listen, honey, if a man wants to spend time with you he wants to sleep with you.’ Zoey’s tone was dry.

  Ivy was still in two minds about what Louis wanted. On the one hand, she was certain he wanted to make love to her, but on the other hand, she suspected he was feeling too conflicted to act on his desire. Her job was to change his mind one way or the other. ‘Millie thinks I might fall in love with him and get my heart broken.’

  Zoey studied her for a moment. ‘Do you think that’s a possibility?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I’m not attracted to love-them-and-leave-them playboys.’ She chewed at her lower lip and stirred her coffee. ‘I’ve known Louis for close to a decade and never once felt anything for him other than friendship.’

  Apart from the moment she’d walked into his office. And at dinner. Not to mention the kiss. And every time he dropped a French endearment her way.

  ‘Why should that change if we did have a one-night stand?’ Why should that change after one kiss? But, niggling doubts aside, she couldn’t back out now. She wanted to see this through no matter what. It was imperative she get herself sorted out and no one could help her better than Louis.

  Zoey plonked her cup down and pushed herself away from the bench. ‘It’s a risk, I guess. Good sex can have a potent effect on your emotions. Not that I’ve had any lately, but nor do I want any. I’m completely over men.’

  Ivy knew her friend was still getting over the betrayal of her long-term boyfriend who had cheated on her while she’d been away with her father on business. Zoey was still in a man-hating phase even though it had been over a year since she’d found out about the affair. ‘How did your dinner with your dad go?’

  Zoey sighed and picked up a piece of toast. ‘He drank too much and I had to bundle him into a taxi. Same old.’ She bit into the toast as if she wanted to hurt it, her stunning violet eyes shadowed with decades-old pain.

  ‘Oh, dear.’

  Ivy knew all about embarrassing parents. Her mother had struggled, self-medicating with alcohol and casual affairs with multiple partners, after Ivy’s dad had left when sh
e was a teenager. Her mother had only ever had one lover until then—Ivy’s father—so it had been weird seeing her mother with a host of men she’d met in a pub or wine bar. Ivy had never known who she would meet on her way to the bathroom or what sounds she would hear coming from her mother’s bedroom. None of the men had stayed around longer than a night or two before someone else would appear.

  ‘I’m worried it’s going to affect the business,’ Zoey went on. ‘I’ve had to cover for him so many times lately.’ She speared a hand through her thick, glossy black hair, her expression troubled. ‘It’s like he’s self-sabotaging what he’s worked so hard for all his life. I can’t stand by and watch him destroy the company. It’s my company too—or it would be if he’d change his mind and make me a partner.’

  ‘Oh, Zoey, I wish I could say something that would help. It must be so awful for you.’

  Zoey stretched her mouth into an on-off smile. ‘Don’t mind me, I’m just venting. The thing that gets me is the blatant sexism. If I was the son he’d wanted, he would’ve handed the partnership to me years ago on a golden platter. But, no, I’m just a frivolous, empty-headed girl like his three ex-wives. What would I know about advertising?’

  ‘You know heaps,’ Ivy reassured her. ‘That dog food commercial you worked on last month was absolutely brilliant. And, if your mum was still alive, I know she would be proud of you.’

  Zoey twisted her mouth and picked up her coffee cup again. ‘Maybe, but I still lost the pitch to one of our biggest competitors. But I’m determined to win next time we’re vying for the same account.’ Her eyes began to sparkle with determination. ‘I can’t wait to wipe that arrogant smirk of victory off Finn McConnell’s face once and for all.’

  ‘You go, girl,’ Ivy said, holding her coffee mug up in a toast. ‘To achieving our goals—no matter what.’

  Louis was not normally a thank-God-it’s-Friday person. Call him a hard-nosed workaholic, but the weekends were when he got a sense of satisfaction from ticking off the long list of jobs he had to do that couldn’t be done during the week. He often preferred to work at weekends rather than socialise, especially since his last lover had had trouble accepting he wasn’t interested in taking things further than a short fling. But, as the weekend approached, he found himself thinking less about work and more about his ‘date’ with Ivy.

  It was faintly disturbing how much he was thinking about her. Hardly an hour went by without him recalling the taste and velvety texture of her mouth. And he’d developed a sudden craving for strawberries. Every time he thought of what she’d asked him to do, he got aroused. He was distracted, daydreaming when he should have been working, mentally dwelling on what it would feel like to bury himself deep inside her and take them both to heaven.

  But, while he could allow himself the odd daydream, what he couldn’t allow was making those daydreams a reality. Ivy wasn’t a one-night-stand type of woman and he’d had nothing but one-night stands. How could doing the deed with her be a good thing?

  Louis had hours before he had to pick up Ivy, so he sat at his desk and worked on a project that needed some final adjustments before it was sent to the builder. His mind kept drifting to his date with Ivy. He blinked, sat up straighter in his chair and locked his gaze back on the design on the screen.

  Work. Work. Work. He chanted the words to himself, but it wasn’t long before his mind was going off on another tangent.

  The possibility of sex.

  A hot tingle ran down his spine and he shifted in his chair, cleared his throat and spoke out loud just to drive the point home.

  ‘You can do this. You work ten to twelve hours a day. Get on with it.’

  So now he was talking to himself as well as daydreaming about Ivy. He was well aware of the risk of spending more and more time with her. It might raise her expectations that he would solve her virginity problem. And he hadn’t signed up for that—only the possibility of it which, weirdly, was making it even harder to resist her.

  But he refused to think any further than spending the evening with her to help her feel more at ease. He was good at cordoning off his emotions, especially when it came to sex. Sex was a physical experience he enjoyed, like any other full-blooded man. He didn’t associate any feelings with sex other than that of lust and pleasure. He had never been in love and never intended to be. He wasn’t even sure the concept existed outside of novels and Hollywood movies. The chances of finding one person who complemented and fulfilled you in every way and would continue to do so throughout a lifetime was a fantasy in itself.

  And one he never dabbled in.

  But taking Ivy out a few times to help her build her confidence was certainly doable. There was no harm in kissing and fooling around a bit. No harm in that at all. His conscience rolled about the floor laughing.

  Ahem. Mr Amazing One-Night Stand is going on a few dates with the same woman with only the possibility of having sex? The man who doesn’t date anyone longer than a day, and then only for sex?

  Louis leaned one elbow on his desk, pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to block the taunting of his conscience. He was thinking of Ivy, not himself. She needed to be more relaxed without the pressure of sex hanging over her. That was his plan and it was a good one. A safe one. To hang out together on a few dates without the expectation of intimacy. Easy.

  Louis continued to stare blankly at his computer, but then his phone suddenly rang and Ivy’s number and name popped up on the screen. A stone landed in his gut with a sickening, organ-crushing thud. What if she was calling to cancel? What if she had changed her mind because he hadn’t committed to her request? What if she’d decided to go with the stranger plan instead? Maybe someone else had already volunteered to take her virginity. Maybe she’d done it last night with a stranger she’d found online or even one of those male escort services.

  He was ambushed by the host of unfamiliar emotions assailing him—disappointment right at the top of the list. He hadn’t realised how much he was looking forward to being with her tonight until the possibility of it being cancelled became possible. She’d cancelled lunch a couple of months ago, and even now he didn’t like admitting how disappointed he had been.

  He snatched up his phone and answered it. ‘Ivy.’ He was pleased with how cool and collected he sounded when his heart was thumping as though he’d just consumed three energy drinks.

  ‘Hiya, Louis, I just wanted to know what type of clothes to wear. You didn’t say where we were going tonight. Do I need to dress in anything fancy?’

  He hadn’t said because he hadn’t decided until that morning. But he’d managed to secure box-seat tickets to a popular musical he knew she’d always wanted to see. He wanted their ‘date’ to be special and memorable. There was a risk of drawing press attention by being in such a public place. While he’d thought of taking her to his house in Chelsea or his place in the Cotswolds to afford them more privacy, he knew it wouldn’t be wise to spend time completely alone with her. Tempting, yes, but definitely not wise. ‘I’ve booked tickets to a West End musical. We can have supper afterwards.’

  ‘Oh, what fun! I haven’t been to the West End in ages. Shall I meet you there or...?’

  ‘Ivy, when I date a woman I pick her up and I take her home. I’ll see you at seven.’

  Ivy was putting the last touches to her make-up when the doorbell sounded, announcing Louis’ arrival. She pressed her lips together to set her lip-gloss, quickly snatched up her evening bag and went out of her bedroom to greet him. When she saw him standing there in a dark charcoal suit, with a crisp white shirt and blue-and-grey-striped tie, her breath caught and her heart did a funny little skip. He was the epitome of a handsome, successful male in his prime.

  ‘Hiya. Do you want to come in for a minute? No one else is home.’

  ‘Sure.’ He stepped over the threshold and she closed the door.

  Suddenly her flat seemed too sm
all to accommodate his six-foot-four frame. She could smell the citrus and woodsy notes of his aftershave and his eyes looked darker than normal—more pupil than iris. His gaze swept over her black cocktail dress and high heels and then back to her face.

  ‘You look stunning.’ His voice had a rusty edge that did strange swoopy things to her stomach.

  Ivy smoothed her hands down her hips. ‘I bought it this afternoon. I thought I’d better treat myself since this is my first proper date in months.’

  ‘How many months?’

  She could feel her cheeks warming and leaned down to pick up her bag from where she’d put it when she’d answered the door. ‘Ten.’ She cast him a sideways glance. ‘I’ve been out with girlfriends and stuff but not alone with a guy for close to a year.’ She twisted her mouth in a rueful grimace. ‘Kind of weird for an almost-thirty-year-old, huh?’

  He came over to her and took one of her hands in his, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand, his eyes locking on hers. ‘It’s a little unusual but definitely not weird.’ He gave her hand a light squeeze and released it, slipping his hand in his suit pocket as if determined not to touch her.

  Ivy was aware of the grey-blue intensity of his gaze, aware of the tightening of the air, aware of the faint tingling of her skin where his thumb had stroked. ‘So, how was your day?’ Nothing like a bit of inane conversation to recalibrate the atmosphere.

  Louis glanced at her mouth and her stomach swooped and dived again. ‘Boring until now.’

  She moistened her lips, her pulse fluttering. ‘Are you flirting with me?’

  He stepped closer, his hands taking both of hers, his thumbs doing the spine-loosening, stroking motion again. ‘Isn’t that what a man does when he takes a woman out on a date?’

  Ivy’s stomach fluttered and she couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. ‘If I was one of your normal dates, you would sleep with me at the end of the evening, wouldn’t you? How do I know if you will or you won’t?’