Biker's Virgin (An MC Romance)

by Claire Adams

  “It sounds like you regret the decision,” I pointed out.

  “I do sometimes,” he nodded. “In a way, my way of escaping the pain of the divorce was to bury myself in work. Which is probably the reason I became so successful. But sometimes I can’t keep thinking that if I’d chosen differently, I’d be living a quiet life in the suburbs with my wife, a couple of kids, and a minivan parked in the drive.”

  “Where is she now?” I asked.

  “My ex-wife?”

  “Yes.”

  “She moved to Switzerland shortly after we got divorced,” Gregory replied. “She married some Swiss guy a couple of years later, and she’s got a son now.”

  I looked at his face and could see the regret there. “Do you still keep in touch with her?”

  “I did for a while,” he nodded. “But it was too hard to see her in her new life. It’s been a few years since we last spoke.”

  I nodded. “Is that why you’re helping me?”

  “I like you, Molly,” he said. “You’re a great girl, but up until last night, I didn’t know you. I know Tristan, though, and he reminds me a lot of myself. Why should he repeat the same mistakes I made?”

  “That’s very noble of you.”

  Gregory smiled. “I’m getting soft in my old age.”

  I laughed. “I wasn’t aware that thirties were considered old.”

  “Working this hard ages you,” he said. “You forget to live; you forget to enjoy your life. This vacation is the first one I’ve been on in four years.”

  “Wow.”

  “Everyone seems to have forgotten that we work to support and enjoy the families we’ve built,” he reflected. “What’s the point in working this hard if we have no one to go home to?”

  “I don’t know if everyone thinks that way, though,” I said, thinking of Tristan. “Some men just aren’t cut out for family life.”

  “Maybe not,” Gregory agreed. “But I don’t think Tristan’s one of them.”

  “Based on?”

  “Instinct,” he said vaguely. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “What do you want?” he asked. “In regards to Tristan?”

  I sighed—that really was the million-dollar question. “Would you judge me if I said I didn’t know?”

  Gregory smiled. “Take the time to figure it out,” he said. “Don’t waste your whole life living on memories.”

  There was sadness in his tone when he said it, and I couldn’t help but reach out and take his hand. “You’re a nicer guy than I had you pegged for.”

  He laughed. “I’ll take that as a high compliment.”

  “It was meant as one,” I said. “I wish… I wish that if I were in a different place emotionally…”

  “I know,” he nodded. “I wish that date last night had been real.”

  I could sense the possibility between us, but in the same breath, I knew it was a hollow feeling. It was hollow because of how I felt about Tristan. With that realization staring me in the face, I finally knew exactly what I wanted.

  And I also knew that Lizzie had probably been right. I would probably get hurt.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tristan

  “Have all the preparations been made?” I asked, turning to Ben.

  He nodded. “Everything’s taken care of.”

  “The decorations?”

  “They were un-crated this morning and strung up in the ballroom.”

  “I don’t want it looking like some mediocre Christmas party at home,” I said.

  “It’s looking good,” he assured me. “Very classy. We had Terrence Staten fly in from New York just to organize the look for this party.”

  I groaned. “How much is that costing me?”

  “Three nights in one of the deluxe suites.”

  “Huh… I suppose that’s a fair price to pay,” I shrugged. “What about the food?”

  “The menus were finalized four days ago,” Ben reminded me.

  “I remember the meeting,” I said. “I don’t remember the menus.”

  “Chef Pierre and Chef Arnaud are going to be the main chefs for the evening. We have two sections cordoned off for the buffet and the bar, and we’re going to have three live cooking stations.”

  “Who were the three chefs we chose to manage the live stations?”

  “Iokua, Kaleo, and Damien.”

  I frowned. “Was I a part of that decision?”

  “You told me to handle it,” Ben reminded me.

  “Ah…right.”

  He rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Is Kaleo the best person to be in charge of a live station?” I questioned. “He’s not the most personable chef we have.”

  “No, but he cooks seafood to perfection.”

  “Yes but—”

  “You handed the decision over to me,” Ben cut in. “And now you’re micromanaging.”

  “Okay, fine,” I conceded. “Kaleo can stay, but for God’s sake, tell the man to smile a little bit more—this is a fucking Christmas party.”

  “I’ll pass on the message.”

  “The band?”

  “They arrived this morning,” Ben informed me. “They’ve been rehearsing in the rec room since they got here, and they sound great.”

  I nodded. “Okay… Everything seems to be on track,” I said. “The construction’s finished, and the resort is finally at five-star status.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “About what?”

  “Opening to the public,” he said.

  “I’m always nervous right before opening day,” I admitted. “But they’re good nerves. It keeps the adrenaline pumping.”

  “Good to know.”

  “And, you’ve informed all the guests that all the restaurants will be closed for the night?”

  “I have.”

  “That includes room service.”

  “I’ve notified everyone.”

  “Good,” I nodded.

  I was about to get out when I turned to Ben. “Try and relax tonight,” I told him. “This party is as much for the senior staff as it is for the guests.”

  His smirk was dubious. “I don’t know that I relax so well.”

  “Try,” I said. “You’ve been working around the clock this past week. I just want you to know that I’ve noticed.”

  Ben looked slightly embarrassed as he nodded. “Thank you.”

  Smiling, I left my office and headed to my room to change for the party. I walked through the western hall that boasted floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked one of the resort’s two outdoor pools. I had spotted Molly swimming there a number of times, but today there was no one around. She was probably getting ready for the party, just like everyone else in the resort.

  I had done a good job of avoiding her for the past week. We hadn’t crossed paths at all, and the one time I had glimpsed her had been fleeting, and she hadn’t even noticed me. After our little confrontation in the hallway, I had stopped going to Albero’s for dinner. I just jumped between the other three restaurants, knowing I wasn’t likely to run into Molly there.

  I wasn’t exactly sure why I was avoiding her so studiously. Was I embarrassed about my behavior, or did I simply wish to avoid temptation? I had thrown myself into work in the hopes that it would keep my mind off her, but unfortunately, there was nothing pressing enough that distracted me for long. Each night, at dinner, I would sit alone at my table and wonder what Molly was wearing that night and who she was sitting with. I had even stopped inquiring after her from my wait staff because a part of me was scared of hearing who she was with and flying into another rage.

  I had a quick shower and then put on my navy-blue tux with the silver cufflinks. I ran my fingers through my hair and stared at my reflection in the mirror for a moment. I looked sharp, and on any other night, I would have felt confident and calm.

  But tonight, I was anything but composed. I knew Molly would be at the party, and I
knew she would look stunning. I would need to play host, but at the same time, I would need to stay far away from her.

  I left my suite and headed into the ballroom where the party was being held. The ballroom was a large circular room with a domed ceiling painted in styles reminiscent of the ancient Italian painters. The roof alone contributed to the hall’s grand and luxurious feel.

  When I stepped inside, I felt a surge of approval. The massive natural Christmas tree that I’d had flown in especially for the party was standing in the center of the hall. It was decked out in grand fashion and looked exceptionally beautiful. The decorations were classy and had been artfully placed around the space to create the feel of Christmas, without going overboard. There were Christmas wreaths everywhere, and mistletoe hung from the natural creepers that had been draped over and around pillars, lights, and chandeliers.

  The hall was already half full when I entered. I started mingling with the crowd, welcoming guests and stopping to talk to a few of my investors. The buffet had been set up in the back of the hall, and the Christmas feast on display looked positively regal. The choice was elaborate, but if there was one holiday that demanded extravagance, it was this one.

  I was walking over to the bar when Gregory blocked my path. “Hey, stranger,” he said. “Haven’t seen you around much.”

  I felt more than a little ashamed of my behavior towards Gregory, but it had never been easy for me to say I was sorry. “I’ve been busy,” I said, employing an apologetic tone.

  “Planning this shindig couldn’t have been easy,” he said, looking around. “I must say, this is spectacular.”

  “Then mission accomplished.”

  “I had dinner at Albero a few times over the last week,” he continued. “I noticed you weren’t at your usual table.”

  I paused slightly. “Uh… Yeah. Well… I guess I was avoiding the restaurant.”

  “I thought you might be…”

  “Listen, Gregory,” I said, deciding that I needed to be a man and cop to my mistake. “About what happened last week…”

  “It’s okay, Tristan,” Gregory said graciously. “I know. You don’t have to apologize. If I were that in love with a woman, I might have done way worse.”

  I frowned. “I’m not in love with her, Gregory.”

  “You’re sticking with that story?” he seemed surprised. “Still?”

  “Because it’s the truth.”

  He sighed. “If you say so. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to work my way down that buffet line.”

  I stared after him, caught up in the conflict raging in my mind. Frustrated, I headed straight for the bar and helped myself to a large glass of eggnog that was heavy on the rum. I continued to circulate through the hall, refilling my eggnog each time I emptied another glass. I had well past my sixth drink when I caught sight of her.

  She was standing near the Christmas tree, bathed in the light that twinkled down from its branches. She looked like some ethereal creature from another world. She was wearing a sparkling beaded red gown that hugged her chest, stomach, and hips before billowing out at the bottom half of the skirt. The beads glittered magnificently underneath the light, and I could see the faint outline of her legs through the thin fabric.

  Her golden hair hung loosely around her shoulders, and her makeup was flawless elegance. Unable to turn away from her, I stood there like some hopeless idiot and stared until desire won over common sense, and I started walking towards her, through the gathering of people.

  She didn’t see me until I was standing right beside her. When she glanced my way, she looked startled and slightly nervous.

  “Tristan,” she said.

  “You look beautiful,” I told her.

  I could feel the alcohol buzz through my system. It was giving me the courage I needed to see this through. I wondered if I would consider it courage tomorrow morning, but decided not to think too hard about that. Instead, I focused on Molly and her dazzling blue eyes.

  “Thank you,” she replied. I noticed her tone was slightly wary.

  I knew Molly was waiting for me to say something as we stared at each other. When the silence drew on and on, her body seemed to tense suddenly. I saw a flash of something in her blue eyes, and then she had turned her back on me, and she was walking away.

  I was about to call out after her, but I thought better of it. Instead, I followed the path she took until I arrived at one of the hall’s five large, semicircular balconies that overlooked part of the resort and a fantastic section of the ocean just beyond. The sea was bathed in moonlight, and I could see dark purples and dancing grays in the blue of the waves that bowed at the shore.

  Molly stood at the very edge of the balcony. Her perfect hourglass silhouette put the view to shame. I approached her cautiously, aware that the alcohol was making me do things I would have considered risky. If I had been sober and in full command of my faculties, I would have realized that the night was too romantic, the mood was too calming, and Molly was too beautiful for me to approach.

  I walked up to her on the balcony and put my hand on her shoulder. She shook me off violently and took a step back.

  “What do you want, Tristan?” she demanded.

  Taken back by her fierceness, I tried to figure out what was causing her anger. “Molly,” I started weakly. “I’m sorry about last week… I… I should never have interrupted your date.”

  She shook her head in frustration. “That’s what you’re apologizing for?”

  “I…yes.”

  “Great,” she replied, but her tone sounded sarcastic more than sincere. “Thanks for that. Excuse me.”

  She walked around me and headed back to the party. Completely taken off guard, I followed her back through the gathering and straight out of the hall. She was walking down one of the deserted corridors in the direction of her suite when I caught up with her.

  “Molly…wait,” I said, grabbing her hand and forcing her to turn around to face me.

  Her eyes were blue fire when they met mine. “This is all just a game to you, isn’t it?” she demanded. “And I’m just another piece on your chessboard.”

  I stared at her for a moment. “That’s not true,” I said softly. “Nor is that fair.”

  “Ever since I got here, I’ve felt something between us,” she said blatantly. “It was subtle at first, but it’s got stronger and stronger. There’s something there, but you won’t acknowledge it. Because you’re a coward; you’re scared.”

  “I am scared,” I blurted out.

  Molly stopped short, and I realized that she hadn’t expected me to admit to anything. “What are you scared of, Tristan?”

  I shouldn’t have answered her. I knew that. I should have turned around and walked away. But how could I possibly walk away from her now? Her eyes were beckoning, her body was leaning into mine, and her lips were only inches from mine.

  “I’m scared of how much I want you,” I said.

  The anger drained from her face, and I realized that my admission had justified every emotion she had experienced in the last few weeks. She was waiting for the truth, and she had finally received it. I had been fighting the truth all this time, and I had finally released the words that were clawing at me from the inside.

  And after that, there was nothing else left to do but kiss her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Molly

  It happened as unexpectedly as that first kiss. One second he was staring at me with some unrecognizable emotion flitting through his eyes, and the next his lips had descended on mine, and he was kissing me passionately.

  There was no lead up to the kiss, no caution in the way he approached me. There was no subtlety or hesitation. There was no build up and no anticipation. It happened all at once.

  I could feel his hands on my body; his lips pushed hard against mine. I could hear the grappling of his breath mixed in with mine. I could feel his tongue, warm and sweet with the taste of eggnog and rum, against my mouth.
<
br />   This kiss was much like the first one: bold, hard, passionate, and intoxicating, but everything was heightened somehow. It was as though the six years between our first kiss and this one had made everything come into living color.

  I could feel my heart pounding against my chest, I could feel goosebumps prickle my skin, and I felt almost as though I could hear Tristan’s heartbeat, too. My body was alive with need and desire, and I could sense that he was battling with the same untenable emotions.

  When we broke apart, we were both panting deeply, as though we had just taken part in a hundred-mile sprint. My lips felt sore and raw, and Tristan was looking at me intensely. I thought I saw a conflict in his eyes, but couldn’t be sure. I wasn’t about to let this moment pass. I wouldn’t allow him to simply walk away from me now—not after all this time, not like he did the last time.

  I took his hand and pulled him along to my suite. Surprisingly, he came without a fight. I could sense a little shock mixed in between us. We were both shocked at what had just happened, and now that it had happened, it almost felt like it had been inevitable.

  Tristan followed me inside. We walked to my bedroom together. I didn’t bother turning on the lights because I had left the blinds open and the light from the sky and the ocean flooded the room and bathed it in romantic blue light. When I turned around to face Tristan, he was looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

  We stared at each other for a moment.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” he said slowly, breaking the hypnotic silence.

  “Then why did you come?” I asked, challengingly.

  He looked down for a moment. “Because I’m weak.”

  “You’re a fool,” I whispered. “This moment is six years in the making.”

  He seemed to agree because he took a step towards me. Then he stopped abruptly, as though shocked by his own presumption.

  I could taste every single daydream I had ever had about Tristan. They were separate little jewels that I’d held close to heart in all those years of absence. Was it possible to fall in love at first sight? I wondered. It certainly seemed like that had been the case for me.

  I didn’t care to decipher what it all meant, however. For now, I just wanted to be with Tristan. I wanted to put aside the daydreams and experience the real thing. I wanted to have something real to hold onto if I ever found myself on my own again.