The Virgin Heiress: A Billionaire & Virgin Romance

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by Virginia Sexton




  The Virgin Heiress: A Billionaire & Virgin Romance

  Copyright 2017 Virginia Sexton. All right reserved.

  Kindle Edition

  All characters depicted are over the age of 18.

  This book may not be reproduced in any form by any means, without the author’s permission, except for reviewers, who may quote short excerpts.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and action come from the author’s imagination and presented as fiction. Any resemblance to real individuals, alive or deceased, as well as events or places, is completely coincidental.

  This book features explicit depictions of sex and other material that may offend some audiences. Therefore, it is intended for adults only.

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  Table of Contents

  “Chapter 1”

  “Chapter 2”

  “Chapter 3”

  “Chapter 4”

  “Chapter 5”

  “Chapter 6”

  “Chapter 7”

  “Chapter 8”

  “Chapter 9”

  “Chapter 10”

  “Chapter 11”

  “Epilogue”

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  “I can’t believe you’re tying the knot,” I say, my chin resting on my open palm. “Don’t you feel like you’re too young?”

  Allison, my best friend, smiles and shakes her head, sending her short blonde curls waving back and forth. “Not at all. Not for me and Brett.”

  I nod, understanding. She’d been dating him since they met in freshman orientation.

  “Plus, when you’ve met the right person, you know it,” she adds. “Someday, Susie. You’ll see.”

  Rolling my eyes, I sip from a paper cup of coffee. Double cream, extra sugar. “I’ll take your word for it,” I mutter.

  “I’m serious!” Allison’s cute, squeaky voice rises as she says it, but she quickly cuts herself off. Scanning the room tentatively, we see a dozen children napping on cots, undisturbed. When they wake, they’ll rise like a tornado, only louder and more destructive — but for now they’re still little angels.

  “I’m serious,” she repeats, quieter this time. “Brett’s perfect. Everything he does just makes me love him more.”

  “Everything?” My bullshit detector is barking. “Even when you fight?”

  “Oh God, yes,” Allison moans, pursing her small lips. Her eyes squeeze shut and her hand presses against her chest. “Seeing him get angry is so freaking hot, Susie! He’s so intense. And he says I breathe really hard, and it makes my boobs heave…” She leans in close and beckons me to do the same. “As soon as the fight is over, he’s on top of me. It’s amazing. He’s like an animal,” she whispers, blushing and biting her lip.

  I sigh and sit back in one of the leather recliners I bought for the center. “Sounds nice,” I say.

  “Sorry,” Allison replies. “Meet any good prospects lately?”

  “Please,” I snort. “The only guys I meet work for my dad. They’re either-”

  “I know,” she interrupts. “Daniels or Kens.”

  I nod. “Exactly.”

  Daniel was my first boyfriend. I’m not sure if my dad encouraged him to ask me out back when I was feeling especially lonely, but it wouldn’t surprise me. I almost felt bad for Daniel: we went on two dates, and he was so nervous I couldn’t take it anymore. Every other word out of his mouth was an apology. He agreed with everything I said. He kept staring at the bodyguards sitting at the next table.

  I dated a few Daniels before I met Ken. When he first asked me out, I was so taken with his confidence, I thought I’d finally met the right guy. That illusion faded quickly. Sure, he was young, successful, and cocky — the exact opposite of Daniel — but all he talked about was himself and the amazing future he’d have. He knew the exact type of yacht and helicopter he wanted to buy, as if that impressed me. He bragged about being the future of the communications industry. He treated our courtship as a done deal, as if dating was a mere formality.

  I couldn’t even make it through our first date. I had to have my driver pull him out of the limo. Ken thought we were going to consummate our “partnership” that night; instead, he wound up on his ass as we drove off. I swear he nearly cried. I don’t think he’d ever not gotten his way before.

  Every guy I meet ends up being a Daniel or a Ken.

  “Sorry, babe,” says Allison, shaking my shoulder. “You know, I’ve got guy friends you haven’t met. We wouldn’t have to tell them who you are. They’re nice guys — if all you want is to punch your V-card, they’ll be sweet, I promise.”

  “Thanks, but no.” I take out my phone and load up Allison’s profile. I jump into one of her photo albums: she and Brett in Bermuda last spring. Showing her the phone, I flip through the pictures. “I want what you have with Brett. Not some pity hookup.”

  “Fair enough.”

  I grin. “Especially the part about the fights.”

  Allison scoffs. “Susie!” This time her voice causes stirrings amongst the kids. She holds her hands up in apology while stifling a laugh.

  “What?” I ask, my smile growing wider. “It sounded really hot.”

  “I am never telling you anything ever again.”

  “Uh huh, sure.”

  We finish our coffees and talk about Allison’s wedding plans until it’s time to get the children up for the rest of the afternoon. Once they’re awake, we serve a snack of carrots and juice, then set them loose for free play.

  Our volunteers, Gracie and Paulina, show up together at four to take over for the evening shift. Middle aged, with patient and kindly demeanors, their own children have already left for college, freeing up their evenings. They work three nights a week, babysitting and helping the center’s children with their homework. While our center helps a lot of mothers to work during the day, several still have to work the second shift. For them, Gracie and Paulina are life savers.

  “How have they been today?” Gracie asks as the first mother arrives for pickup.

  “Fine,” I say with a wink. “Controlled chaos.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Did you talk to your friends about picking up some shifts?” I ask both of them.

  “Sorry,” says Paulina in her slight accent. “I couldn’t get any takers.”

  “Same here,” adds Gracie.

  “Figures,” I sigh. There are still too many nights for the four of us to cover. “Allison, you busy tonight?”

  “Just planning a dream wedding to the love of my life. Does that count?”

  I make my sad puppy dog face, imploring her with my piercing, light blue eyes. “Please, please, please? I’ve got a line on a PTA meeting we could crash.”

  Allison watches as I sniff sadly. “Stop it, Susie.”

  “Please?” I beg. “You want to staff a new branch downtown? We need quality recruits.”

  “I know, but… I mean, I want to help, but… Can’t we just hire some people?”

  I shake my head, getting a little annoyed. “I could hire a lot of people, but you know that’s not the point. We can’t do everything for everyone. We have to-”

  “I know, I know,” Allison cuts in. “I know the pitch. We have to inspire others to help, too.”

  “What about me? Can I help?” says a new voice. The four of us turn to see who it is, and for
a moment, one could have heard a butterfly sneeze.

  None of us have ever met him, but we all know that face, and that voice. “This is the Lexington Center, correct? I’d like to speak with your executive director about sponsorship,” he says, his tone cool and rich, like a silken sheet gliding across my body.

  Colin Legend. At six-and-a-half-feet tall, he towers over us, larger than life. He’s in his early forties but moves with the energy and swagger of a man half his age. Dark stubble covers his strong, square jaw. As we stare, speechless, he smiles, showing off his perfect white teeth. He’s used to having this reaction, but the warmth in his expression tells me he never tires of it.

  “That’s… that’s me,” I mumble, meeting his brilliant green eyes. The wings of his navy sports jacket hang open, revealing a tight, white button down shirt that clings tightly to his broad frame. Despite the jacket and shirt, below the waist he wears a faded pair of blue jeans and sneakers. I catch myself glimpsing at the bulge in the crotch of his jeans, imagining what I’d find underneath, then force myself to look away.

  Did he see me looking? If so, he doesn’t let on, running his hand through his short, brown hair, brushing it back. A few of the strands have gone gray, but they don’t really show unless one stares as blatantly and intently as we are.

  It’s not just his looks, of course. Standing before us is a billionaire. World famous. In fact, he’s nearly as rich and famous as my father. Considering we run in conjoined circles, it’s actually a little surprising we’ve never met.

  “Lovely,” he purrs. “I’m Colin, but it looks like you know that. What’s your name?”

  Is he for real? He doesn’t recognize me? I may not run a media empire like him or a telecom giant like my father, but I’ve been on the covers of a few magazines in my time. “Susie Lexington. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Legend.”

  He takes my outstretched hand, and I expect him to bring it to his lips for a kiss, but instead offers a gentle shake. “The pleasure is mine,” he says, and I think I spot a note of recognition in his expression.

  I look back at Allison, Gracie, and Paulina, waiting so they can introduce themselves, but they’re still too struck by the piece of man-candy before us.

  I roll my eyes, though I have to be fair: this is only the second time they’ve met a billionaire. I’m used to it. And while he’s as handsome as the Empire State Building is tall, I’ve met men this hot before, too.

  Finally, I speak up. “You said you’d like to help? We’re looking for volunteers.”

  “Ahh, right. I had in mind a donation. I could fully fund your operation for years.”

  I nod quickly. I’ve heard this all before. “Thank you, Mr. Legend. The center is already fully funded. What we need is staff. Voluntary staff.”

  “Susie, maybe we could make an exception,” Allison says, her voice even squeakier than usual.

  Smiling, I keep my eyes on Colin Legend. “No, that’s not necessary. Mr. Legend, I was going to attend a PTA meeting to see if I could find new caretakers for our shelter. Maybe you’d like to join me?”

  I don’t know why I ask him this. I know he has no interest in attending a PTA meeting. He has better uses for his time.

  “Thank you for the invite, Susie. I have a better idea. Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow. You can tell me more about your work here, and we can see if there’s some way I might be able to help.”

  “O-oh,” I stutter, expecting a flat refusal, not a counter-invitation. “Well…”

  Allison’s small hands slip around my arm and pull me back. “One second, Mr. Legend,” she says, dragging me off.

  Once we’re out of earshot, I cut her off before she has a chance to speak. “You don’t have to say it.”

  “Oh yes I do,” she snaps. “Colin Fucking Legend, Susie! You’re going to dinner with him.”

  “We don’t need his money,” I growl. “You know I’ll keep paying the bills. My allowance covers it.”

  Allison shakes her head. “Give me a break! You were just talking about the new branch. He could buy us the damn building, instead of renting.”

  “So could my dad, if I asked. And he won’t ask for anything in return,” I argue.

  “How do you know Legend wants something in return?” she asks. “He’s pretty charitable.”

  I’ll give her that point; Legend’s generous donations to a broad spectrum of causes have earned him plenty of praise.

  “It’s just dinner,” Allison adds. “If you don’t want to take his money, you don’t have to.”

  She’s right, though there’s more she hasn’t said. “And?”

  She sighs. “You’re going to make me say it?”

  “You bet.”

  “Fine.” Allison takes a deep breath. “That’s Colin Legend, and if you don’t go to dinner with him, I will, goddammit. You can call Brett and let him down easy, but I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  I laugh despite myself. “You’re a piece of work, Allison.”

  “And Colin Legend is a piece of ass! Go get yourself some, already! Unless you want another Ken or Daniel. Now, do I have to go out there and accept the invitation, or will you step up to the plate?”

  “All right, all right. I’ll do it.”

  “Yeah you will,” she snickers.

  “Please stop.”

  When we get back, Gracie and Paulina are chatting quietly with Colin, stammering nervously and giggling every time he smiles. I don’t blame them.

  “Mr. Legend, if you’d like to discuss the center over dinner, I’m free tomorrow. When and where should I tell my driver?”

  He beams, a look of honest excitement and genuine pleasure. He slips a hand into his jacket pocket and takes out a card. “Give him this and have him call.”

  “Thanks,” I say, slipping the card into my skinny jeans.

  “I’ll be looking forward to it,” he says with a wink. “Can’t wait.” He looks past me to Allison, Gracie, and Paulina. “It was nice meeting all of you.”

  “You too,” they reply, or at least that’s how it sounds, their words mumbly and running over one another.

  “See you then, Ms. Lexington.”

  I straighten up, trying not to tremble. “Mr. Legend,” I say.

  None of us speak as he leaves. We’re all thinking the same thing.

  Did that really just happen?

  Bursting from my deep, walk-in closet, I dash across my bedroom to answer my cell. It nearly goes to voicemail, and the phone almost finishes belting the refrain to “Shake it Off” when I answer.

  “Hi, Daddy!” I say. I add excitement to my tone, though I have a sinking feeling he’s calling with bad news. “What’s up?”

  “Hi, sweetheart.” His voice is warm but tired. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can make lunch today. I hope you understand.”

  I figured he would say that. We were due to meet in two hours, and he wouldn’t have called otherwise.

  “I do,” I say, hiding my disappointment, although I realize I’m also relieved. I have news for him as well, and telling him over the phone might be easier than in-person. “Is it the deal you’re working on?”

  “That’s right, honey. Another few weeks, and it will be done. I’ll take some time off and relax, I promise. How do a few days on the boat sound?”

  A fully staffed yacht cruising through the Caribbean?

  “Sound’s great,” I say. “If I can get my shifts covered.”

  I expect a sigh, but instead Dad replies, “Of course. If not, we can stay local. Get tickets to Hamilton, maybe?”

  “That would be great, Daddy.”

  We both pause for a moment, and I try to work up the courage to tell him about meeting Colin Legend. Instead I ask, “How’s the deal going? Have you picked the new partner yet?”

  “We’re still weighing the options, Susie. Each company wants more than they’re going to get. The negotiations are going to be pretty heated.” He laughs, and I can picture him shaking his head.


  “I’ll bet,” I say.

  “Yeah. But what’s new with you, sweetie?” he asks.

  Okay, here goes.

  “Ahh, there is something. Tonight, I’m going on… to… I have a… I’m seeing a guy… tonight.”

  He doesn’t miss a beat. “That’s great honey! Is this the first date?”

  “It’s not even really a date,” I protest, words spilling out quickly. I get up from my bed and head back into the closet to look for an outfit for later. “He’s a potential donor to the center. He’s taking me out so we can discuss it.”

  “Sure he is,” says Dad, laughing quietly.

  “I swear.”

  “I believe you, honey. But I’m sure he’s got other ideas. You’re sweet, smart, and a lovely young lady. I don’t have to tell you that.”

  “Daddy…” I grumble, pulling out a cute, knee-length yellow dress.

  “All right, all right. I know you don’t need to hear this, but I have to say it: just be careful.”

  I nod, smiling to myself. “Thank you, I will.”

  “Susie, I’m excited for you!” he says. “I know you’ve been dissatisfied with dating, so if he’s a guy who can make you happy, that’s all that matters.”

  “Yeah, I know. But don’t get carried away, okay? He really might just want to discuss the center.” I put the yellow dress back and consider a navy blue blouse with a pair of light cigarette trousers.

  Dad snorts. “Maybe. Is he married?”

  Colin Legend? Married?

  “No way,” I blurt out, not thinking.

  Now Dad laughs out loud. “All right then. We’ll see.”

  “I’ll make sure to tell you ‘I told you so’ if you’re wrong.”

  “That’s my girl,” Dad shoots back. “Okay, honey. I’ve got to go. Those click-baiting jerks from Red Feed are here. Text me later, and we’ll reschedule lunch.”

  “Sure, Daddy, no problem. Love you.”

  “Love you, too,” he says before hanging up.

  Sighing, I stop at my rack of black dresses. I’ve lost count of how many I own, but I know how many I’ve actually worn: none. I can’t wear one on a first date. And there’s no way I’m wearing one for a Daniel or a Ken.

 

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