The Sicilian's Defiant Virgin

by Susan Stephens

  ‘Yes, you do,’ she argued, taking another step forward right into the doorway. ‘Jasper sent me to you.’

  Jasper had told her Tomas was still recovering from the accident. That he needed more help than he liked to admit. And while Tomas might not want her assistance, she owed him for more than he’d ever know and she wanted to pay him back for that.

  He looked her over again, more slowly that time. There was still not the recognition in his expression that she’d expected, but as she watched something else emerged—something raw.

  ‘I don’t need or want your help,’ he said slowly, cynicism harsh in his eyes.

  She tried not to be insulted, but she failed. ‘You don’t even know what I can do for you.’

  ‘I’m not interested in anything that you think you can do for me, sweetheart.’ A bitter smile curved his lips as he glanced over her again. He looked so thoroughly and slowly it was as if the rains had stripped her naked and he could see every tiny intimate detail of her body.

  Embarrassed heat stormed through her as his gaze lingered on her breasts. She fought hard to control her reaction to his perusal but sensual awareness circled around her, fogging everything.

  ‘Excuse me?’ she choked, stunned at her own horrendous reaction.

  ‘What is it you’re offering?’ he asked. ‘A massage?’

  ‘You think I’m here to give you a massage?’ she asked, utterly astonished.

  ‘And other...services as required.’ Now he was looking at her mouth with a dark gleam in his eye.

  She could feel herself blushing, she could almost see into his mind and knew exactly where he thought she might use her mouth on him...and the dreadful thing was, the truly dreadful thing was, she’d once dreamt about that. But she’d rather die before she admitted that—even to herself.

  ‘Does Jasper usually send women to provide these “services” for you?’ she asked huskily.

  ‘No.’ He frowned suddenly, that gleam vanishing, as if he too rejected the idea outright. ‘This is...unexpected, even for him.’

  She drew herself up, gaining less than an inch in height and she was still far from being able to look him straight in the eye, but it was better than shrinking in front of him. She wasn’t that naive girl any more. She wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself now. She wasn’t going to run away and hide. ‘I’m not here to provide you with intimate entertainment.’

  His gaze clashed with her own fierce one. Something changed within his expression. Then he too straightened.

  ‘What did Jasper say to you?’ he asked harshly, even angrier now.

  ‘That you were going to be alone this weekend.’

  ‘And he thinks that’s a problem?’ he asked bitterly. ‘Does he think I can’t handle being alone?’

  ‘You’d have to ask him that,’ she answered crossly. ‘I’m just doing what he asked me to.’

  ‘Well, Jasper was mistaken in asking you to do anything for me. I apologise for my crass assumption. You may leave.’

  It couldn’t have sounded less like an apology. The sky was darkening more and she could see less of his face but she could sense his anger and his resistance to her presence. Her own anger bubbled. That he could be so rude? Had he truly forgotten her? She didn’t care if he couldn’t cope on his own or not, he didn’t look remotely incapacitated to her. As far as she was concerned, Jasper was worrying about nothing and she couldn’t wait to get out of the place. But she couldn’t get past him not recognising her. ‘Don’t you know who—?’

  But it was then that the heavens truly opened, turning from torrential rain to ice. Marble-sized hailstones pelted down, bouncing on the gravel and her car and creating such a din she could no longer hear herself think let alone catch a word of what he was now saying. She saw him mutter something else—most likely impolite—then he stepped back and held his arm out towards her.

  Was he inviting her in now?

  Furious, she didn’t move. He sent her such a speaking look and then reached for her. His grip on her upper arm was hard and her feet were moving before she’d thought better of it. The door slammed behind her, shutting out the worst of the icy racket. But it was colder indoors than it had been out there. Her heart pounded. He’d stepped back only enough to drag her inside and suddenly they were face to face and only a couple of inches apart, his grip on her wasn’t any less ferocious and she could feel his breath on her frozen face.

  Her gaze clashed with his. In the dim light she could see little of his expression, only that it was harsh. Her breathing—and her pulse—quickened at his nearness. Her body remembered his touch and she shivered.

  Abruptly he released her. As he turned away his hand brushed hers and she quivered again as that electricity arced into her.

  Yes. For her, he’d always packed a punch.

  ‘You may wait in here, until the hail has stopped,’ he said stiffly, taking another step back from her, frowning down at his hand before turning to switch on the light.

  She blinked as the sudden brightness hurt her eyes—as did his silence. Shaken by her intense reaction to his proximity, she decided it was better to stay silent herself.

  He didn’t invite her into a warm room and offer her a seat or a drink or anything more comfortable, only shelter from the storm that should hopefully pass quickly overhead.

  It was clear he didn’t want to wait with her, yet he didn’t want to leave her alone in his large, inhospitable house either. She suppressed a vicious smile at his quandary, still smarting from his lack of recognition of her.

  A year ago she’d seen him smile and heard him laugh as he’d joked with Jasper. From her hidden corner she’d been so drawn to him. He’d been arrogant then too, confident and assured, but it was different now—cold disapproval radiated from every inch of his body. He didn’t want the intrusion. He didn’t want her.

  Well, he’d never wanted her. And that was just fine, wasn’t it?

  Except there’d been one moment all those months ago. One moment when he’d teased her, smiled at her, reassured her. And then come close to her. Her cheeks burned at the memory of just how close he’d gotten to her then. He’d taken her by surprise—and her own reaction?

  ‘Miss—?’

  He interrupted her thoughts, dragging her back to the cold, miserable presence.

  He was staring, his eyebrows raised slightly as if he was wondering what she was thinking. Embarrassed, she glanced around the vast interior. It was freezing and so unwelcoming.

  ‘Falconer.’ She told him her new name. ‘Zara Falconer.’

  She looked back at him as she spoke but there was no reaction at all in his expression.

  And there was no outward sign of injury either. He seemed perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Yet Jasper had been adamant that Tomas needed her. He’d been agitated about it. And curiosity had been too much for her.

  Tomas was undeniably the same lethally attractive man, but the shadows in his face were deeper and darker. He didn’t look like the carefree, rapier-sharp devil she’d met that day.

  ‘Jasper asked me to housekeep for you for a few days,’ she finally, formally explained her mission.

  ‘You’re too young.’ He dismissed the idea in an instant.

  She bristled, a bitter smile twisting her lips. How many times had she heard that in her life? Yes, she did look younger than she was, but she wasn’t stupid and she could work as hard as anyone. In fact, she could work harder. She had for years. ‘I’m not as young as I look.’

  * * *

  Tomas stared down at the bedraggled woman standing in front of him. She might think otherwise but he knew what Jasper’s intentions had been in sending her to him. The old schemer had been insisting for months that what Tomas really needed was some fun times with a beautiful woman. That if he relaxed, it would all come right, but his old friend was completely wrong. And the minute he got rid of her, he’d be phoning Jasper to tell him so. Again.

  But it surprised him that Jasper had sent someone s
o unlike the usual high-maintenance-model bombshell that the old man himself preferred. This girl was too sweet. She looked so damned young in those thin sneakers, wet jeans and the light jacket that didn’t offer sufficient protection from the rain and annoyed the hell out of him. But as he looked closer he saw she was right. She wasn’t quite as young as her appearance first suggested.

  When Tomas had opened that door she’d had a shy smile on her glowing face. The rain had been like dew on her radiant skin. Her loosely tied back rich brown hair had been starting to tumble, so wet tendrils curled softly at her temples. Her sweetheart-shaped face was dominated by those large sea-green shining eyes and full rosebud lips. Hell, she’d even had a dimple when she smiled. She’d looked the very picture of innocence and joie de vivre.

  Everything he wasn’t. Everything he’d never had.

  Right now she looked the picture of indignation. It was no less attractive and he was finding it very hard to wrench his eyes off her.

  His thoughts were appallingly sexual in nature. He’d taken one look at her and been hit by the almost irresistible urge to draw her close and kiss her—and made a fool of himself in thinking that was why she’d come here. But her mouth looked full and soft and perfect for kissing and she was just the right size to fit in his arms and press against his hard body. He ached for that even now.

  He couldn’t remember when he’d last kissed a woman. Or last wanted to. But then, he couldn’t remember anything.

  Angered, he stepped towards her, not stopping even as her eyes widened in wary surprise. He didn’t want to know why she was here making a small puddle on the hall floor as the water streamed from her stupidly light jacket. He didn’t want to be bothered by how frozen her fingers had felt when the back of his hand had brushed against them. He didn’t want to see those still-shining eyes casting their innocent, cautious appeal at him.

  He didn’t want to want her.

  What he wanted was for her to be gone.

  ‘How do you know Jasper?’ His voice still sounded rusty. No real surprise given he hadn’t spoken to anyone in two days, not even a quick phone call.

  She looked uncomfortable and didn’t answer. His eyes narrowed. What didn’t she want to tell him? Was she Jasper’s latest little affair? His anger flared irrationally. He forced himself to breathe evenly and assess the facts. She wasn’t Jasper’s type. And given the way she’d blushed before at his out of order assumption, she wasn’t the type at all.

  ‘He helped me out with something a while back,’ she eventually answered evasively. ‘Have you eaten dinner?’

  ‘That’s not your concern.’ But even as he answered his stomach growled. He wondered if she’d eaten. She looked as if she could do with something hot and filling. Where the hell had she driven from anyway? And why? And he did not want to be wondering about her like this.

  She walked the length of the hall, not bothering to hide her curiosity behind a veil of politeness. ‘The house is dark and cold.’

  Her tone wasn’t judgmental but he felt argumentative. ‘Maybe I like it that way.’

  ‘You like to make it as unwelcoming as possible?’ She flashed that impish smile as she turned back to face him. ‘Are you that afraid of people?’

  The edgy question was softened not so much by that smile as the shining candour in her eyes but it didn’t defuse his simmering anger.

  ‘I work hard and I don’t like interruptions,’ he corrected, refusing to be melted by her radiance, refusing to be drawn nearer to her. But the pull was powerful. He glared, infuriated by his primary, base response to her. ‘And I don’t need a baby-faced babysitter. It really is time for you to leave.’

  Except he couldn’t help wondering where she would go.

  Her smile faded and a confused look entered her eyes, dulling the sea-green brilliance. Stupidly he felt he’d disappointed her in some way. He didn’t like it.

  ‘I’m not as young as you seem to think,’ she suddenly declared with a lift to her chin, as if she’d made up her mind about something and was determined to see it through. ‘I was married once.’

  He huffed out a breath, stunned that her words wounded him in a niggling way. ‘But you’re not now?’ he replied softly. The silence hung with significance.

  Her eyelids dropped and she looked down, as if it hurt to hold his gaze. ‘I guess it wasn’t meant to be.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Tomas said stiffly. Not so innocent then; she’d been bruised. The thought of her being hurt grated on his already strained nerves.

  He cursed Jasper for sending her to him.

  He walked back to the front door, but when he opened it he saw that, while the hail had stopped, the rain had returned. It was almost completely dark now and it would be impossible for her to see three feet in front of her while driving. No way could he let her leave in this weather. Inwardly he cursed more.

  ‘It isn’t safe for you to leave tonight,’ he said gruffly. ‘You’ll have to stay here.’

  He looked at her again and something stirred in the back of his mind. Had he said those words to her before?

  He scowled at the déjà vu—the trick of a feeble mind.

  He loathed it when it happened. Hated thinking there might be a memory just out of reach and that there was nothing he could do to draw it closer or clearer. The most random, inconsequential things sparked it. He paused, waiting, hoping the fragment would float to the forefront of his mind.

  It didn’t. It never did.

  Frustration flamed his anger to fury. He stepped towards her, his gaze narrowing. The shine in her eyes had gone. So had her smile.

  ‘Do I know you?’ He rapped the question, like machine-gun fire, hating that he was compelled to ask. Hated giving his weakness away.

  * * *

  ‘No,’ Zara answered baldly, her throat aching from holding back her disappointment. She’d tried to prompt him just then, but it seemed that what had happened a year ago had been so minor that he’d forgotten it. He’d forgotten her.

  She knew it was stupid to feel it, but the reality of her insignificance crushed her. Yet what had she expected? This wasn’t a fairy tale. It never had been and never would be. It had been one afternoon, one night, one morning. It had been nothing to him, not even worth remembering.

  And she hadn’t just lied. He didn’t know her. He never truly had.

  But that hadn’t stopped him from marrying her.

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  Copyright © 2017 Mills & Boon

  Mobilism

  ISBN: 9780263924084

  THE SICILIAN’S DEFIANT VIRGIN

  © 2017 Susan Stephens

  Published in Great Britain 2017

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

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