The Millionaire's Virgin (Mills & Boon By Request)

by Susan Stephens

  He knew she was right.

  He went.

  It took hours. Every chance he could, he called Zoe on his mobile. He left message after message but he never made contact.

  Eventually he got a faraway female voice which said, ‘Zoe? Oh, no, she’s not here. She’s gone to Venice.’

  ‘She’s back,’ he said curtly. ‘That’s why—’

  The phone was clearly taken out of the vague woman’s hand. ‘I’m Artemis,’ said a voice very like Zoe’s. It sounded brisk.

  The sister.

  He said rapidly, ‘I took her to Venice but we—got parted at the airport. I really, really need to speak to her.’

  ‘If she went with you to Venice you’ve probably had your ration,’ said Artemis cheerfully. ‘No idea where she is. You could try Suze Manoir.’

  ‘Right.’ Why hadn’t he thought of that? ‘Thank you.’

  ‘If you see her, tell her I’m sorry.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘None us had realised how bad Mother is. Zo’s been doing all the work and hiding it from us. Now we’ve realised we’re having a family conference. My father, Aunt Liz, Harry and me. The doctor’s in with Dad and Aunt Liz now. Tell Zo she’s off the hook.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Jay, with real gratitude.

  He rang off and called Suze’s mobile.

  ‘Yes, she’s here,’ said Suze, before he had even mentioned Zoe’s name. ‘And I don’t know what you’ve done to her, you jerk, but I’ve never seen her look like that. Don’t come near us.’

  He did not accept it, of course. He went straight to the Edwardian block. He did not get past the front door.

  ‘Go away,’ snapped Suze down the entryphone. ‘She’s sleeping. She looks as if she hasn’t slept for a week. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I hope you’re proud of yourself you—you—you Bluebeard.’

  No, he was not proud of himself. But for all sorts of reasons that Suze Manoir could not guess at. He walked through the summer night, trying to wrestle his thoughts into some sort of order.

  Women said that they loved men so easily, and most of the time it was just baiting the trap for long-term partnership.

  But Zoe was not angling for companionship. She had her family. She had all those damned boyfriends. Now she could go out with any of them and do whatever she wanted in the full knowledge that she started off with a clean slate.

  At the thought of Zoe doing whatever she wanted with another man Jay stopped dead and looked round for something to hit.

  But then he reminded himself—before they went into that damned conference hall she had said she was glad that it was him. And that she would never regret it.

  Well, she was regretting it now, all right. All because of that stupid Lessiter woman—

  He caught himself. No, that wasn’t true. It was his own fault. If he had sacked Barbara as soon as she’d developed her crazy crush on him, if he had never given his luke-warm affection to Carla, this would never have happened.

  Zoe waited. Why couldn’t I?

  Hormones, thought Jay grimly, had a lot to answer for.

  But hormones were only part of what he felt for Zoe Brown. Though God knows how he was ever going to convince her.

  ‘My love,’ he said experimentally to the warm night air.

  And realised he had said it before. Holding her. Thinking only of her and her heart racing beneath him.

  It had not felt like an experiment. It had felt like truth.

  Slowly the tension went out of him. He’d got a hard task ahead, sure. But he’d had things too easy for too long. This was going to be a challenge—and worth it. This was the most important challenge of his life.

  ‘My love,’ Jay said again. With certainty.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘I CAN’T go to work,’ Zoe said, panicking. ‘I can’t face him.’

  Suze did not dignify that with an answer.

  Zoe pulled herself together. ‘I mean—I broke all his rules. He said I’d be out on the hour if I fell in love with him.’

  ‘Are you in love with him?’ said Suze curiously, buttering toast.

  ‘Yes,’ said Zoe baldly.

  Suze bit back a gleeful smile. ‘Then you’d better go in and let him sack you,’ she advised.

  Zoe gave a wan smile. ‘Get it over as soon as possible if you’re afraid of it? You’re not the first to give me that advice.’

  ‘And you’re not the first to be afraid of Jay Christopher,’ said Suze comfortingly.

  But Zoe looked surprised. ‘Oh, I’m not afraid of him.’

  ‘Now that,’ said Suze, handing her her jacket, ‘is a first.’

  But Jay was not available when Zoe steadfastly called Blonde Mark II for a slot to see the boss.

  ‘Don’t think he’ll be available all day,’ said Poppy, kindly enough. ‘Merger talks. You can try dropping by before you go home. He might be finished then.’

  So Zoe did not see Jay. She did see—and would rather not have done—the unbelievably beautiful Bharati Christopher.

  ‘Miss Brown,’ said the tall, exquisitely dressed woman, pausing by Zoe’s desk. ‘Abby told me that was who you were. I am Jay’s mother.’

  She held out an expensively manicured hand. Zoe shook it as if she were in a dream.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Christopher.’

  ‘May I invite you to lunch?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Zoe with genuine horror.

  Bharati looked rather pleased. ‘Then show me where your water cooler is.’

  Zoe leaped to her feet. ‘This way.’

  Bharati sipped cold water out of a plastic cup with all the elegance she would have accorded vintage champagne.

  ‘So you won’t talk to him,’ she said musingly.

  ‘I—er—’ Zoe pulled herself together. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I am on a shopping trip. So I stay at my son’s house. He was back very late last night. And very chastened.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Zoe.

  ‘You seem to have him tied up in knots,’ said Bharati Christopher dispassionately.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘And while I would, of course, prefer that he were not tied up in general,’ she went on in her gentle, precise voice, ‘you are the first woman to have got close to Jay for years. Perhaps ever.’ She put the plastic cup in the bin provided with great care. ‘Don’t waste it.’

  Zoe was speechless.

  Bharati left with a faint smile.

  Zoe threw her head back. ‘Aaaaaarrgh!’

  But it confirmed her resolve not to go home until she had seen him.

  Was his mother right? The first woman to have got close to Jay! Was it possible?

  And what about Carla Donner? Zoe had gone through every newspaper this morning and there had been no mention of the television gardener, let alone Jay’s affair with her. Yet would his mother necessarily know?

  She was torn all day. There was work to do, but Zoe was working on autopilot. She hardly noticed what she was doing. She got odd looks from Molly, but she did not seem to have told anyone else that she had met Zoe along with Jay at the airport, coming back from their weekend in Venice.

  Kind Abby asked her whether she was feeling all right, though. Clearly Zoe’s distraction was showing.

  ‘Look,’ said Abby, as everyone else began to drift away at the end of the day, ‘you haven’t had anything to eat all day. You haven’t been out of the building. What’s wrong?’

  But Zoe just shook her head. ‘I—er—think I’ll get some coffee,’ she said uneasily. ‘Poppy said there was always a pot on the go for Jay in her office.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Abby, unsuspecting. She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and hiked up her shoulder bag. ‘Don’t stay too late. It’s a beautiful summer night. Everyone ought to be out looking at the stars.’

  Fat chance, thought Zoe.

  But she went bravely up to Jay’s office.

  Poppy had obviously gone. Her desk was tidy and nearly empty. The room was q
uiet, but the air was full of the luscious smell of Jay’s favourite coffee. Zoe helped herself, skirted the man-eating plant and opened the door to his office. Jay’s desk was equally clear.

  She bit her lip. Looked as if he wasn’t coming back tonight, then. She ought to go, but somehow she was reluctant to leave the place where he spent most of his days.

  She wandered round the room, sipping her coffee, touching the surfaces, pulling books off the bookshelf, running her hands voluptuously down the upholstery of his chair, where his shoulders habitually rested. She brushed her cheek against the top of the tall chair.

  ‘Jay,’ she said aloud. All her longing was in it. All her love.

  The door banged back. She looked up.

  Jay stood in the doorway. She hardly recognised him. His face looked fleshless, as if he had been running. His eyes were concentrated and intent.

  ‘So you’re here,’ he said in a still voice.

  Zoe straightened rapidly. ‘Thought I’d save you the bother of summoning me,’ she said in a bright voice.

  He frowned. ‘Summoning you?’

  ‘You’re going to kick me out, right?’ she said, quite as if she didn’t care. ‘After Venice? House rules?’

  But her heart cried, Touch me. Love me.

  ‘Oh, that.’ He sounded almost bored. ‘I suppose so.’

  He supposed so?

  ‘Well, don’t give yourself a heart attack,’ said Zoe, hurt. ‘I’m sorry I have made so little impact on Culp and Christopher.’

  He gave a snort of bitter laughter. ‘Culp and Christopher? What about the impact you’ve made on me?’

  She stared, clutching his chair like a shield. ‘What?’

  He was carrying a briefcase. He flung it away from him, into the corner of the room, as savagely as if he was launching a spear.

  ‘Right. You’re sacked. Satisfied?’

  ‘The agency—’

  ‘The agency will survive,’ said Jay between rigid lips. ‘I’m not sure I will.’

  ‘Wha-at?’

  He took a hasty step forward. ‘I love you,’ he said intensely. ‘I never said that to anyone before. But I said it to you without even thinking.’

  ‘You—did—not.’

  ‘Yes, I did. I called you my love. What else do you think that was?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Or do all your men call you that?’

  Zoe decided that now was not the time to ask him to define his terms. She had never seen a man closer to breaking point.

  ‘Well, if they did they didn’t mean it.’

  ‘Oh, God.’ He sounded frantic. ‘I don’t know what to do about this. Your sister says I’ve had my ration. Susan Manoir said I’d hurt you. I keep thinking I’m too old for you—’

  Zoe stopped hanging onto his chair like a lifeline and stepped round the desk.

  ‘Why don’t you ask me?’ she said gently.

  He shut his eyes. ‘Will you marry me?’

  She gave a soft laugh. His eyes flew open.

  ‘Only on one condition,’ said Zoe, hot babe incarnate.

  His eyes questioned wildly.

  She laughed softly and moved in close. ‘You take me home and make love to me now.’

  It was a perfect summer night. His room was huge and airy, windows open to the night-time sounds of birds and small animals. The moonlit breeze was cool on her skin, like a lover’s breath.

  I know what a lover’s breath on my skin feels like now.

  They had left their clothes behind them, in the hallway, on the stairs. Zoe trembled to his slightest touch.

  There was only one doubt left in her mind.

  ‘Why did you say that it was not chance that I was a virgin?’

  He curved his hand round her neck, kissing her skin with moth wing dabs. Her lips parted and her breath quickened— and he relished it.

  ‘Mmm?’ he said, concentrating.

  ‘Why did you say that it wasn’t chance?’

  He paused reluctantly, though his hand started to do wickedly enticing things to her nipple.

  ‘Your family,’ he said, surprised. ‘When you told me about your mother it was so clear. You’d watched her collapse because your father left. You must have thought, This is grown-up stuff and I’m not ready for it. Perfectly sensible.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Zoe was not feeling sensible. She was feeling wanton and wonderful.

  She said, ‘I never thought of that. I just thought sex was mostly hormones and showing off.’

  Jay gave a shaken laugh. ‘And now?’

  Zoe took hold of the wickedly skilful hand at her breast and carried it lower, to where they both had everything to discover.

  ‘Now I know it,’ she said coolly. ‘And, oh, boy, have I got some showing off to do.’

  But he made her wait. ‘Not until you admit there’s a little matter of love involved as well.’

  He watched her eyes darken and nearly lost his resolve. But this was important. And he was good at physical self- control.

  Her head fell back. ‘Love…’

  He stroked her so slowly that her eyes crossed.

  ‘I don’t know what love is,’ she moaned.

  ‘Yes, you do.’

  He saw her bite her tongue as she tried to hold on to her senses.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I fell in love with you at first sight. I thought you looked like a Mogul prince and I knew you were for me. I wanted you to make love to me, but I wanted you to talk to me and live with me and listen to me for the rest of our lives as well.’

  Jay was humbled. He said so.

  Zoe writhed. ‘Good,’ she gasped. ‘I hope that’s everything you want. Because I don’t think I can hang on much longer…’

  ‘Everything,’ said Jay. ‘Except maybe…’

  Their bodies slid together in a slow, voluptuous locking. Somehow it took them into another dimension. He saw her eyes widen and widen as she realised it, too. For a moment he held her very still, looking deeply into her eyes. No reservations. No disguise.

  Her lips parted. ‘I love you.’ She framed the words soundlessly, as if she were talking direct to his spirit. Her eyes were honest. All guards down now.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jay.

  And took her on a journey he’d thought he knew by heart—and found he had never travelled it before.

  Later they lay entwined in the dark. From his pillow they could see the fuzzy moon above the trees.

  ‘What would you have done if I hadn’t come looking for you?’ said Zoe.

  She could feel his smile against her skin. At once she detected teasing. She knew him so well now.

  ‘What?’

  Jay did not take his possessive hand off her naked waist. ‘I was going to try and bribe you,’ he said lazily.

  ‘Don’t believe it.’

  Still keeping one hand on her, he stretched a long arm and extracted what he was looking for from a pocket in one of the garments on the floor. He flicked it across the bed.

  ‘I spent today cancelling the merger. I thought I’d rather stay small and keep my self-respect,’ he said. ‘You taught me that. So I thought it would please you.’

  It was a little velvet pouch. Zoe fingered it, but it was of less importance than what he was saying.

  ‘I taught you?’ She hardly dared to believe it.

  ‘My darling.’ He stroked her hair behind her ear. ‘I love the way your curls cling to my fingers.’

  ‘Electricity,’ said Zoe impatiently. ‘What do you mean, I taught you?’

  ‘Love that electricity.’ Jay gathered her close. For all the teasing laughter in his voice, Zoe knew this was serious. ‘You saw right through my protective colouring right from the start,’ he told her. ‘Then, in Venice, you went further. You saw the man I’d forgotten was there.’

  ‘Oh!’ Her eyes filled. ‘Oh, Jay.’

  He unlaced the pouch. Stones fell out, heavy and warm and gleaming faintly in the darkness.

  ‘Very useful, your not having any jewell
ery,’ he said lightly. ‘When we’re old we can take up collecting rubies as a hobby. But for now—’

  It was a necklace. She turned it over. In the light of the moon she saw the sheen.

  ‘Do they solidify silk, somehow?’ she said doubtfully.

  He switched on the bedside light. The necklace was made of enamels—turquoise and rose and peacock and flame. The colours of his fantastic shirts. The colours of his imagination.

  The colours of his life.

  ‘Put it on for me,’ she said softly.

  His fingers were not entirely steady.

  She ran her hands all over the compact and elegant body. She had, she thought exultantly, the right now. She was his and he was hers.

  She leaned over him, her hair catching the light. It was as soft as silk against that wonderful golden skin. They gave a sigh of exquisite longing at exactly the same moment.

  ‘And now, my Mogul Prince, my darling,’ said Zoe, ‘love me.’

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

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