His Secret Virgin A Forbidden Romance

by Michelle Love

  I couldn’t deny that I found the idea very tempting. “Sure, Mom. Set it all up. Don’t forget my work schedule, though. Nine to five, Monday to Friday. I get an hour for lunch, but I don’t think that’s enough time to do any of those things.”

  “No, it’s not.” She put her finger on her lower lip, the way she always did when she was thinking about something. “How about we do it Saturday morning? That way we’ll be all done before we head out to Christopher’s for dinner. You can meet his daughters as the new and improved Emma Hancock. It’s time your father allowed you a bit more freedom to grow.”

  I would be shocked if he’d okayed any of this. “Okay, Mom. You set it all up, and I’ll do it.”

  “Great.” She clapped her hands with a smile and then left me alone.

  My father would have to do a heck of a lot of changing if he’d allow all that. And I knew he hadn’t done much changing at all. Twentieth birthday or not, Dad still saw me as his little girl.

  As far as I knew, Mom had never questioned Dad about any of his decisions where I was concerned. He ran the family. She ran the house. And I did what they both told me. I didn’t see any of that changing.

  My cell lit up, and I saw Valerie’s name on it. “Hi, Val. You’ll never believe how fantastic my day has been!”

  “Tell me, girl!” she shrieked.

  “Well, first off, I’ve got a new job. Assistant to the main man’s assistant,” I gushed.

  “Wow,” she sounded a little surprised. “I have to be honest, I thought you’d start out in the mailroom. But you’ve got a nice title there, Emma. Good going.”

  “It gets better.” I lay on my bed, looking up at the ceiling. “I’ve got my own office on the top floor with all the bigwigs. And I have a company car. It’s a brand new Ford Focus in dark blue.”

  “No way,” came her envious reaction. “I can’t believe it.”

  “There’s more.” I sat up as excitement filled me. “I’ve got a company credit card with a limit of five thousand dollars a month, which I can use to buy anything work related—like clothes to wear to work. Shoes. Makeup. Everything!”

  Silence met my ears, and then she screamed, “Oh my God! I can’t believe it. My little friend sounds like she’s finally going to grow up.”

  I thought about what Mr. Taylor said about not letting Dad baby me. “You know, I think my father really respects our boss, Mr. Taylor. He’s his friend from college—remember I told you all about him?”

  “Yeah. That’s good that your dad respects him. It sounds like Mr. Taylor respects your dad, too, since he’s given you this cushy job and all the perks that go with it.”

  “Yeah well, Mr. Taylor told me that he’s going to be making sure my father starts treating me more like an adult.” I fell back on my bed again as I thought about the man. “He’s so gorgeous, Val. Like totally hot.”

  “Wait, what?” she asked. “Hold on. This guy and your dad went to school together, Emma. He’s an old man. You can’t possibly think he’s hot.”

  “I bet if you Google him—Christopher Taylor, owner of Global Distributing—you’ll find pictures of him.” I dared her to think any differently than I did.

  “Okay, let me do just that.” I heard her tapping away on the laptop she always had around. “Okay, Christopher Taylor, owner of—oh, shit! He is hot!”

  Thought so.

  Chapter 9

  Christopher

  As I left my office to head to the café downstairs for a mid-morning snack, I saw Emma leaving Mrs. Kramer’s office, looking as if she had an errand to run. “How’s your first real day going, Emma?”

  She looked up, seeming stunned to see me. “Um, it’s going okay. Mrs. Kramer sent me to get us something to snack on. She said there’s a café just around the corner and she wants a fruit cup with extra pineapple.”

  “I’m heading there too.” I couldn’t help the thrill that ran through me that she and I could legitimately hang out for a little while. “I’m not sure what I want yet. Yollie has specials each day, but she never gives a hint what they might be beforehand. I usually try out whatever she’s serving up.”

  She nodded. “I’m sure I’ll find something I’ll like. I’m not even hungry, but Mrs. Kramer said that it’s better to eat small portions throughout the day to keep up one’s energy levels than it is to eat only three large meals.”

  “She got that from me,” I let her know. “When I got divorced, I started working out, and a nutritionist at my gym put me on the right path. With all the unhappiness in my marriage, I’d developed terrible eating habits, and I was consuming way too much alcohol, too. But a person has to cope somehow.”

  She looked pained a bit. “I’m so sorry your marriage went so badly, sir.”

  I couldn’t believe I’d even mentioned my marriage to her. I didn’t talk to anyone about that horrible part of my life. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” I tried to change the topic, “So, are you missing your friends from back home yet?”

  “No.” She shrugged. “Val is my only real friend. She’s going to Columbia, just like you and Dad did. She was very impressed with me for landing this job, and I know I only got it because of my dad, but I’m very excited about it, too, Mr. Taylor.”

  “Good,” I found myself putting my hand on her shoulder to steer her toward the elevator. And there was that sensation again, like lightning crackling through my veins. I almost asked her if she could feel it, too, as she looked up at me with a funny expression on her face. Then I noticed she’d put on the tiniest amount of makeup. “I see you’re wearing some mascara and a little blush today. It looks nice. Did your dad say anything to you about it?”

  “He hasn’t seen me yet.” She watched the doors of the elevator as they closed, shutting us off from the rest of the people in the building. I’d led her to my private elevator; no one would be getting on with us. I wasn’t even sure why I’d done such a thing. “Um, no one else got on. Usually the elevators are packed.”

  “This one is private.” I looked at her outfit approvingly then realized my hand still rested on her shoulder. Moving it, I commented on her clothing choice. “Nice suit. The black slacks fit you perfectly, the pale green blouse accents your eyes very nicely, and the string of pearls adds just the right touch.”

  She smiled as she kicked out one low-heeled black shoe. “And the shoes bring it all together, right?”

  “They do.” I found her so sweet that my mouth watered. “Did your dad give you any trouble over the new clothing?”

  “Well, I didn’t tell him about that either. He left the house before me this morning.” She looked down at the floor. “I thought it best for him to see me first at work and maybe then he wouldn’t put up a fuss.”

  Taking her chin in my hand, I lifted her face. “Emma, just a word of advice. Don’t drop your head so much. It makes you look timid. You have no reason to be timid. Not around here, you don’t.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” She smiled at me with brilliant white teeth that gleamed. They made her even prettier. “I’ve just always been shy. I’ve always tried to blend into the woodwork.”

  “Well, you’re not in the town you grew up in,” I reminded her. “You get to start fresh here. No one will think worse of you if you hold your head high, keep your shoulders back, and look people in the eyes. You get to reinvent yourself here, Miss Hancock.” I suddenly remembered that Mrs. Kramer had asked me to call Emma by her last name.

  She giggled. “You don’t have to call me that, Mr. Taylor.”

  The elevator stopped on the ground floor. “Oh, but I do. You’re an up and coming administrative assistant. Everyone will call you Miss Hancock. Why should I be any different?”

  Her smile made my heart speed up. To see her that way just did things to me. I couldn’t explain it if I tried.

  With the lobby so busy, no one noticed that she and I walked out the door together. Once outside, I walked along beside her. She glanced sideways at me. “Would it bother you if I
didn’t come with my parents to dinner at your lake house on Saturday night?”

  It would actually.

  I didn’t say that though. “How come you don’t want to come?”

  She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “I don’t know how to explain it very well. I just don’t want your daughters to see me as some weirdo who has to make friends with people just because their parents know each other.”

  “That makes sense.” I stopped at the small café. “Here we are.” Opening the door, I let her walk in first.

  “Good, so you understand then?” she asked as she walked past me. The scent of her hair wafted past my nose.

  “Um, honeysuckles,” I muttered.

  She looked back at me. “Pardon? I didn’t quite hear you.”

  “Nothing.” Putting my hand on the small of her back, I walked with her up to the front. “Look, the special today is my all-time favorite.”

  “Oh, mine too.” She leaned forward to ask, “Is the jelly on the sandwich strawberry?”

  My heart shouldn’t have swelled over that, but I couldn’t stop it.

  Yollie answered with her usual boisterous voice, “Is there any other kind?”

  “Not in my opinion,” Emma answered. “Can I have one of those and a fruit cup with extra pineapple, please?”

  “I’ll take the special, too, Yollie.” I looked down at Emma as she stood beside me. “I think a glass of milk would be good too. How about you?”

  “I do think that would be good.” She looked at Yollie. “Can I have a glass as well?”

  “Sure thing,” Yollie said as she went to work making our snack.

  “Put it all on my tab, Yollie,” I called out and then took Emma by the elbow, steering her to a small table for two. “We can eat right here.”

  She looked a little wary. “Will Mrs. Kramer be okay with that?”

  “Tell her you met me here, and I insisted you eat with me.” I couldn’t help but smile. “She won’t give you any trouble if you say that.”

  “I bet you’re right.” Taking the seat right across from mine, I noticed how close our knees were to touching. I swear I could feel the electricity sparking between us.

  “I guess I can forgive you for not coming to my place on Saturday.” I had really wanted her to come, but I understood why she didn’t want to. “The fact is, my daughters may not even be there. And another fact is that they’re nothing like you. They’ve never worked a day in their lives and don’t plan to. They may not understand why you’re working at all. I don’t want them to make you feel bad about yourself.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She started to drop her head then stopped herself halfway. Her eyes came up to meet mine, practicing what I’d just talked to her about. “I don’t know that we’d have much common ground between us, since they come from such a wealthy family. But I understand why they don’t work. They just don’t need to. And taking the place of someone who really needs that income would be selfish. But that’s just my opinion.”

  I’d never considered it that way. “You know something, Emma—I mean Miss Hancock—I’ve never thought about it that way.”

  She reached across the table, putting her hand on top of mine. “Really, I don’t think you need to call me that outside the office. Do you?” She moved her hand away from mine, leaving my skin tingling.

  My cock began an ascent as my heart raced. Swallowing hard, I said, “If you’d rather me not call you that outside the office, I won’t.”

  “It’s just that you and Dad are such good friends. It’s inevitable that we’ll be around each other outside of work, and that would feel weird, you calling me Miss Hancock.” She ran her hand through her hair.

  “Well, then how about this,” I knew I was treading on thin ice, “How about you call me Christopher when we’re outside of the office? You know, since we’ll be around each other more than most bosses and employees?”

  Her pretty green eyes went wide. “Um, I don’t know if Dad will let me do that.”

  “I’ll tell him that I insist.” I decided to add, “And I don’t think it’s his decision to make. But if he gives you grief, I’ll tell him it’s because my daughters never call anyone by their last names. That’s a habit they learned from their mother. She raised them, for the most part. My job was to bring home the bacon, and hers was to rear the children. Old-fashioned, I know. That’s just the way it was in our marriage, sham that it was.” And there I was again, talking about my marriage. “Sorry.”

  “About what?” She looked clueless.

  “I don’t need to be talking about my marriage with you—you probably don’t want to hear anything about it.” I looked at the counter as Yollie put our order on it. “I’ll get that for us.” Jumping up, I went to grab our food.

  “Let me,” she said as she tried to get up.

  I put my hands on her little shoulders. “No. I’ll get it, Emma.”

  Every touch fired my blood, and I knew it was all wrong. How can I keep my distance from her?

  As I went to get the food, I wondered if I should start seeing a shrink or something. What I felt wasn’t right at all.

  “Thanks, Yollie.” I picked up the tray as she eyed me with a little smirk. “What?”

  “You have never, in all these years, eaten with anyone here, Mr. Taylor.” She jerked her head toward Emma. “So, who exactly is she?”

  “She’s one of my friend’s daughters, and she’s working for me now. She doesn’t know anyone in town or at the company yet, and we just happened to meet up on the way out to grab a snack before lunch.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to explain everything to her, but there I was, explaining it all.

  I have to nip these feelings in the bud before I do something that could destroy my friendship with Sebastien.

  Chapter 10

  Emma

  The whole first week of work, Mr. Taylor and I ate our daily snack together. We somehow ended up going at the same time each day, running into each other every day. And I always loved the special Yollie made. Although the PB&J had been my favorite.

  When Saturday came, I faked a stomachache, and Dad let me stay home. But he did tell me that I would have to go the next time Christopher invited us. Dad wasn’t of the same mind as his friend when it came to my explanation of why I didn’t want to be forced to meet Christopher’s daughters.

  That didn’t surprise me much. But one way my father did surprise me—quite pleasantly, I might add—was when he told me how great I looked in my business attire and how much he approved of the new look. The tiny bit of makeup I’d been wearing was okay by him. Most of my skin was still makeup-free. I didn’t use foundation, just a little bit of brown mascara, pink blush, and pink lip stain.

  I’d grown to love it so much, I don’t think I would’ve stopped even if he hadn’t approved.

  At the end of the first week, everything seemed to be going well. But then Monday rolled around. When I set out to get our mid-morning snack, Mr. Taylor was nowhere to be seen. Tuesday came, and the same thing happened. Wednesday had my shoulders sagging as there was still no sign of him.

  Has he grown bored with our daily conversations?

  I couldn’t help but think that he had to be avoiding me. Maybe he felt the tension between us, too—which I thought might be sexual. Perhaps he didn’t feel it, and only I did. Maybe I had imagined it all. Or more likely, he’d only been being nice to me for my father’s sake.

  Little by little as each day passed, I began to think I’d been a fool for ever believing that a man my father’s age would actually be attracted to me.

  Walking alone to Yollie’s café, I thought back on my past encounters with him. The way it felt like pure fire running through my veins every time Christopher touched me. The way his hazel eyes lit up when he saw me in the corridor. The way his voice changed and got deeper once we were sitting alone together in the café.

  Sure, I didn’t know a thing about romance, love, sex. Even so, my body seemed to be running on instinct. It felt
hot when he came close. It cooled when we parted ways. And my mind stayed on Mr. Christopher Taylor all day long—and all night, too.

  I picked out clothes to impress him. I put my hair in styles I thought he might like. I wore perfumes and washed my hair and body with the scent of honeysuckles because I’d heard him murmur that word when I walked past him that first day in the café.

  Everything I could think to do to entice him, I did. And then he went and hid from me the very next week.

  Val told me I’d been crazy to think a grown man like him would ever want to be with me. Not that I wasn’t a catch, but he had people to impress. A twenty-year-old on a playboy’s arm is one thing, she’d said. A twenty-year-old on a billionaire business tycoon’s arm is quite another.

  Deep down, I knew she was right about everything, but it didn’t sting any less.

  When Thursday came, I’d lost all hope that I’d ever get the chance to feel Mr. Taylor’s beautiful hands roam over my entire body.

  I might’ve been inexperienced when it came to sex—hell, I’d never even had an orgasm—but that didn’t mean I didn’t have those urges. The truth was, no matter how heated my thoughts about Christopher Taylor became in the middle of the night, I fretted about giving myself that ultimate pleasure. I worried that I might scream like a wildcat when I came for the first time. If my parents heard that, I would most likely die of embarrassment.

  So all I was left with were my thoughts and daydreams, and as the days passed without any contact with Mr. Taylor, even those were tinged by a feeling of hopelessness.

  The end of the workday on Thursday came, and I felt like a deflated balloon. With only one more day left in the work week, I pretty much knew I would not so much as set my eyes on the gorgeous, and now elusive, Christopher Taylor.

  Walking out to the parking garage, I saw my father just ahead of me. “Hey Dad, you leaving too?”

  He stopped, turning to look at me. “Hey there, honey. You look kind of blue. Rough day?”