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

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  Louis eased back to look down at her. ‘Are you still sure about this?’

  Ivy was getting off just being held in his arms. Never had her body felt so warm and tingly, especially with his erection pressing against her feminine mound. Why wasn’t she freaking out and trying to put some distance between them? Or was it because Louis’ body spoke to hers in a way that made her feel more confident in her sensuality? ‘Yes. It feels like you are too.’

  His pupils flared like black holes in infinite space. ‘I’ve been thinking about nothing else all week.’

  Ivy could feel heat stealing over her cheeks. ‘I hope I’m not a disappointment. I’m such a prude, I can’t even watch sex scenes in movies without blushing.’

  He stroked a gentle finger down the curve of her hot cheek. ‘I think it’s cute how you blush all the time. Don’t ever apologise for it.’ The timbre of his voice made her legs feel weak. Or maybe it was the tender look in his eyes.

  Ivy patted his chest with one of her hands. ‘I’m holding us up. Give me five minutes to finish packing?’

  He bent down and brushed her lips with his. ‘Go for it.’

  Louis had to stop himself from following her into her bedroom and finishing what he’d started. Yes. What he’d started. So much for his boundaries. He’d promised himself he would keep his hands off her until they got to his place in the country, yet as soon as he’d seen her he’d crushed his mouth on hers like a magnet attracted to metal.

  He scraped a hand through his hair, trying to get his breathing back under control. Every time he kissed her, it made him want her all the more. It was as though a switch inside him had been flicked and there was no turning it off again. Kissing her at the wine bar had nailed it for him. A kiss here or there was never going to cut it. Not now. He was too far gone for that. He wanted her with a fervour that was unlike anything he had felt before.

  Desire pounded through him with an unstoppable force, a need so raw and primal he felt it in every cell of his body. He wanted to think it was because he hadn’t had sex in four months but, deep down, he suspected it was more to do with Ivy. She was someone he cared about, someone he respected, someone he would continue to see long after their physical relationship ended. It made their alliance dangerous in a way none of his previous encounters had been. But he was a master at putting emotions to one side when he needed to. This would be no different. Their little secret tryst in the country had all the makings of a hot-blooded fantasy. If he allowed it.

  The thought wandered about his mind like a stray guest in a mansion looking at things he shouldn’t be looking at, touching things he shouldn’t touch. Trespassing into areas he had never allowed himself to go before. They would be spending the night doing all the things he’d told himself they weren’t going to do...

  Louis pulled himself out of his reverie and wandered over to the sideboard in the sitting room where a group of photos was displayed. There was one of Ivy and Ronan at his graduation, another of Ivy with two attractive young women he presumed were her current flatmates. His gaze landed on another one of Ivy as a child at an Irish dancing contest. He picked up the photo frame and couldn’t hold back a smile. The red-gold-haired cherub in that photo was enough to make anyone’s heart melt.

  He put the photo down and his gaze went to the one of her rescue dog, Fergus, who had died a couple of years ago. Ronan had told him Ivy had been inconsolable and on an impulse Louis had sent her flowers and a card. She’d sent him a neatly written thank-you note that he still had in his filing cabinet. He couldn’t quite explain why he’d kept it.

  Ivy came back into the sitting room lugging two overnight bags. ‘I’m ready.’

  ‘Here, let me take those for you,’ Louis said, reaching for them. ‘What have you got in them? A full set of encyclopaedias?’

  Her cheeks pooled with twin circles of pink. ‘I hate people who can go away for a weekend and fit everything in one bag. My make-up and toiletries fill one bag on their own.’

  Louis gave a soft laugh. ‘Come on. Let’s get going before we get stuck in traffic.’

  He wanted no time wasted until he could kiss her again.

  About two hours after leaving London, and after driving down a long, winding hawthorn-fringed lane and over a narrow bridge across a small river, they arrived at a traditional Cotswold-stone manor house. Ivy leaned forward in her seat in excitement, struck by the beauty of the gardens surrounding the house that had been recently renovated, with an extension that perfectly suited the old bones of the house. ‘You said it was a little place in the Cotswolds. This is huge!’

  ‘Only ten bedrooms,’ Louis said. ‘I could have bought one with fifteen but thought that was a little over the top for one person.’

  She glanced at him as he brought the car to a halt in front of the house. ‘But don’t you want to have a family one day to share this with? I mean, this would be ideal for—’

  ‘No.’ His tone was blunt. Emphatic. Decision made and will not be changed. ‘I don’t.’

  Ivy unclipped her seatbelt, more than a little intrigued as to why he was so adamant against settling down one day. ‘How often do you come down here?’

  ‘Not often enough.’ He got out of the car and came around to her side to help her out. ‘I have a caretaker and housekeeper and a couple of gardeners who keep things in check. I try to spend a couple of weeks here in the summer and the occasional weekend throughout the year.’

  ‘Is that all?’ She looked at him in surprise. ‘If this was my place, I would never want to leave. It’s so private and peaceful.’

  ‘Speaking of private—we’re keeping our time together a secret, right? I don’t want anyone speculating that we’re an item. The press would have a field day.’

  ‘Sure...’ Ivy avoided his gaze, pretending an avid interest in a garden sculpture near the front of the house.

  ‘Ivy.’ His tone was commanding. ‘Look at me.’

  She sucked her lower lip inside her mouth and turned to glance at him. His gaze was probing, the line of his mouth firm. ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to tell Millie, but then...but it kind of slipped out the other week when we first went out for dinner, and then she told Zoey.’

  ‘Oh, God.’ His despairing groan was a shattering blow to her self-esteem. Was it so embarrassing for him to be associated with her, even for a weekend? ‘And who else will they tell? Will it be all over social media by now?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, they would never do something like that.’

  ‘Who else have you told? Your mother? Or Ronan?’ His frown was savage, his eyes as piercing as a detective honing in on a suspect.

  ‘No, of course not.’ Ivy sent him a glowering look. ‘Do you really think I’d crow to all and sundry that you’re helping me with my intimacy issues? It’s embarrassing enough for me without broadcasting it to the world.’

  He released a rough sigh that had a note of resignation on its backdraft and turned to pop the boot open. ‘Okay. Fine. But don’t tell anyone else.’

  She looked down at her feet and kicked at a pebble with her toe. ‘Is this embarrassing for you too? I mean, being here with me?’ She somehow found the courage to meet his gaze once more.

  His expression was unreadable. ‘No. Not at all.’ He turned and took her bags out of the boot as if they weighed nothing more than a couple of pillows. ‘Come on. I’ll show you round.’

  Ivy breathed in the scents from the herbaceous border—stocks and lupins and foxgloves and hollyhocks, the colourful array attracting busy bees and fluttering butterflies. The early-summer sunshine was surprisingly warm and was a stark contrast to the greyness of the London sky they had left behind close to two hours ago. Birds twittered in the shrubbery and the neatly trimmed hedges, and in the distance, she heard the eerie call of a peacock on a neighbouring property. She followed Louis to the front entrance of the grand manor house, wondering how man
y other women he had brought here. Should she ask or would it seem too intrusive?

  He put down her bags, deactivated the alarm system on his key fob and unlocked the front door, pushing it open for her. ‘In you go. I’ll take these up to your room and then come and show you around.’

  ‘Why separate rooms? Aren’t we supposed to be—’

  ‘I’m a restless sleeper, and I often get up to work at night. Besides, you won’t be up to marathon sessions just yet.’

  Ivy stepped into the house and turned to face him once he’d brought the bags in and closed the door. ‘How many women have you brought here for marathon sessions? Or have you lost count?’

  He placed his keys in a glass bowl on a polished hall table—a beautiful Regency piece that was in perfect condition. ‘I’ve never brought anyone here before.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Really? Why not?’

  ‘I come down here to chill out and relax. I find relationships—even temporary ones—hard work.’

  Ivy shifted her gaze, her teeth savaging her lip. ‘I hope my presence isn’t going to spoil your precious idyll for you.’

  He stepped forward and trailed his index finger down her cheek, his expression softening. ‘It won’t. I’d thought of asking you and Ronan down some time anyway. I just didn’t get round to it before he emigrated to Australia because the renovations took a little longer than I expected.’

  Ivy was conscious of her heartbeat increasing at his proximity. Aware of the tingle in her cheek from his faineant touch. Her gaze drifted to his mouth and something in her stomach fell off a shelf with a soft little kerplunk. His jaw was peppered with late-in-the-day stubble and, before she could stop herself, she lifted her hand to his face and stroked it down the sexy prickles, the sound overly loud in the silence. ‘Thanks for bringing me here. It’s so beautiful and I already feel relaxed.’

  His hand came up and encircled her wrist, and for a moment she thought he was going to remove her hand from his face and set her away from him. But then his eyes darkened and he brought her inexorably closer, until she was flush against his rock-hard body. She smothered a gasp, her heart thumping so loudly she wondered if he could feel it pounding against his chest.

  ‘I have this insatiable desire to kiss you.’ His voice was so deep and rough, it made her skin lift in a delicious shiver.

  ‘Same here.’ Her voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

  His eyes went to her mouth and he muttered a swear word and brought his down to hers. It was a kiss of fervent passion that made every hair on her head lift off her scalp. Desire flooded her being, giant waves of it coursing through her body in scorching-hot streaks. His hands skated down the sides of her body and then settled on her hips, bringing her even closer to the jutting heat of his. He lifted his mouth off hers, his eyes glittering with unbridled lust. ‘I’m finding it hard to believe you need any tutoring from me. You turn me on so much I can barely stand it.’

  Ivy glowed at his compliment and her damaged ego crawled out of the corner and unfolded itself from the foetal position. ‘I didn’t realise it would be this way between us.’ She stroked his lean jaw again. ‘But I’m worried you’ll be disappointed when it comes to having sex with me.’

  His eyes darkened to a midnight-blue. ‘You won’t disappoint me.’ He brushed the pad of his thumb over her lip where her teeth had just been. ‘Now, let’s get you unpacked, and we’ll have a drink in the garden before dinner.’

  Ivy followed him up the stairs with her body still buzzing from his passionate kiss. If she’d had the confidence, she’d have insisted he make love to her right now. Why wait when they were alone for the whole weekend?

  But maybe he was right not to rush her. She needed to take things slowly, to be more in control of what happened with her body. Her previous dates had pressured her, and it had made her panic, and they hadn’t taken the rejection well. One had made insulting comments about her body that she had been fretting over ever since. She wanted it to be different this time. To be able to enjoy every moment without embarrassment, or feeling pressured and on edge, or fearful of being body shamed.

  Louis led her to a room on the second storey that had a beautiful view of the back garden and the rolling fields beyond the estate. Her bedroom was decorated in cream and white, which gave the room a spacious and luxurious feel that would rival that of any top hotel. Her eyes went to the queen-sized bed and molten heat pooled between her legs at the thought of lying in it with Louis, his body buried deeply in hers...

  He placed the bags on a velvet-covered linen box at the end of the bed and straightened to look at her. ‘There’s an en suite bathroom through there.’

  ‘Where’s your room?’

  ‘Farther down the hall.’

  ‘How much farther?’

  He released a heavy sigh and reached to tuck a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear. ‘Don’t take it personally. I often get up at night and tinker away on my computer. I wouldn’t want to disturb you.’

  Ivy searched his features for a crack in the firewall of his self-control. He kept glancing at her mouth as if unable to pull his gaze away. And there was a doggedness about the line of his jaw, as if he was calling on every bit of willpower to stop himself from acting on the desire she could see shining in his eyes. ‘You work too hard.’

  He gave a lop-sided smile and released her. ‘I’m going to rustle up some dinner. Come down when you’re ready.’

  Louis left her to unpack and went downstairs to check if his housekeeper had followed his instructions to leave supplies for dinner. Yep. Done, and done well. Who said you couldn’t get good help these days?

  The dining room was set up, the fridge and pantry stocked, the champagne and wine on chill. A casserole was in the slow cooker, filling the kitchen with the fragrant aroma of chicken and herbs. There were even flowers from the garden on the table and throughout the house, filling the air with a summery smell.

  The garden was bathed in golden early-evening sunlight, making him wonder why he didn’t come down here more often to relax. Like ‘commitment’, ‘relax’ was another word he’d shied away from in his quest to succeed as an architect. The thing was, he now had the success he’d always aimed for, but he still kept striving. He was stuck in work gear, always going at full throttle, because that was all he knew now. It was all he wanted, right? Work. Achievement. Success.

  Louis opened the fridge and took out the champagne. He got two glasses from the cabinet and placed them on a tray, along with cheese, crackers, fruit and pâté. He heard Ivy’s footsteps coming down the stairs and along the passage to the kitchen and something deep and low in his pelvis tightened. Sheesh. Even the sound of her footsteps got his blood roaring.

  She came into the kitchen wearing a long, summery, Bohemian-style off-the-shoulder dress that highlighted the creamy perfection of her neck and shoulders. Her hair was bundled up in a makeshift up-do with some loose tendrils cascading about her heart-shaped face. She glanced at the champagne and smiled, making her eyes sparkle. ‘That’s my favourite.’

  ‘I know.’ Louis picked up the tray and nodded towards the French doors leading to the garden. ‘Let’s take this outside and enjoy the sunlight before dinner.’

  Ivy walked ahead of him and opened the door, then followed him out to the garden. ‘I love your garden. Was it already like this or did you design it?’

  ‘I made some changes, along with the house.’

  Louis put the tray down on the outdoor table under the wisteria trellis, the sweet fragrance of the pendulous blooms as heady as a drug. Or maybe he was feeling a little intoxicated by the way Ivy looked and the fact she was here. Alone with him.

  ‘How long have you had this place?’

  ‘Three years.’ He uncorked the bottle and poured out two glasses. He put the bottle down, handed her a glass then picked up his own.

  Ivy
took the glass from him, her fingers brushing his, and a jolt of electricity shot through him. ‘I really like the way you’ve blended the old with the new. You didn’t think of designing a new house from scratch like you do for most of your clients?’

  Louis shrugged one shoulder. ‘I saw this place and liked it. It had good bones, so I didn’t see the sense in changing it too much, just enough to put my stamp on it.’

  ‘I think you’ve done an amazing job,’ she said, turning back to look at the house. Now that her back was towards him, Louis had an uncontrollable urge to press a kiss to the back of her neck where red-gold curls dangled like miniature corkscrews.

  She turned around again and smiled. ‘Your parents must be so proud of you. How many awards have you won now? Dozens?’

  Louis held his glass to hers. ‘To achieving goals.’

  Her brow furrowed, her blue eyes searching his. ‘They are proud of you, aren’t they? I mean, you’re one of the most talented architects in the world. Ronan told me you have a long waiting list of clients desperate for you to work for them.’

  ‘I don’t like talking about my family. It’s too depressing to be reminded of how much of a disappointment I am to them, especially to my father.’ He handed her the plate of cheese and fruit. ‘Want some?’

  She took a grape off the plate and popped it in her mouth. After she’d swallowed it, she took a portion of cheese and placed it on a cracker. ‘I’m glad my parents never really interfered with Ronan’s or my career plans. I love working in antiques and can’t imagine doing anything else.’

  ‘What do you love about it?’

  ‘So many things...like the fact that generations of people have used a piece of furniture or crockery, or glassware or jewellery, before. The sense of history fascinates me.’ Her face shone with enthusiasm, her tone almost reverent as she went on. ‘My pet love is Victorian crockery. I sometimes just hold a piece of it in my hand and imagine the people who have used it before. I’m going to Paris next week to see a collection from a deceased estate.’