The Hot-Headed Virgin: The Virgin's Price / The Greek's Virgin / The Italian Billionaire's Virgin. Trish Morey
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your legs, Mia,’ he commanded gently.
She shook her head, her lips tightly compressed, not trusting herself to speak.
‘I want you, Mia, and I know you want me,’ he said. ‘I can see it in your eyes, I can feel it in your kisses and I can even smell it on your skin.’
She wished she could deny it but she could smell it herself. The delicate feminine fragrance of desire, the silky liquid that betrayed her vulnerability to him as nothing else could do. He had only to touch her where she most ached to be touched and he would feel it for himself. She could almost feel the thick, smooth glide of his finger moving inside her, stretching her in preparation for his possession.
‘It’s just hormones,’ she said, somewhat breathlessly. ‘You shouldn’t be feeling flattered at all.’
She could tell he didn’t believe her by the laughing glint in his eyes but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he patted her thigh and stood up, not even bothering to hide his erection.
‘I’ll leave you in peace. I was just teasing. I know you’ll come to me when you’re ready.’
‘You’ll be waiting a very long time,’ she said with much less conviction than she’d intended.
‘I can be patient,’ he said, holding her defiant gaze. ‘Besides, there are some things in life that are well worth the wait. It makes the prize all the more valuable if you’ve had to wait for it, don’t you think?’
She gave him a sour look. ‘If you want a prize, go and enter a meat-tray raffle. I’m not on offer.’
He picked up his towel and wrapped it around his waist once more, a smile still playing around his mouth. ‘Sweet dreams, Mia. I’ll be in the next room if you want me.’
‘I don’t want you,’ she said but she knew it was more for her own benefit than his.
He picked up the sheet off the floor and spread it over her, tucking her in like a child, stooping to place a soft kiss to her forehead. ‘So you keep saying but we both know it isn’t true.’
‘I suppose someone with the ego the size of yours could only be expected to say something like that,’ she bit out resentfully. ‘Has there ever been a woman you haven’t been able to lure into your bed?’
‘Not so far.’
‘Poor misguided fools,’ she muttered. ‘I wonder if there’s a support group for them all. It should be called BDCO.’
‘What does that stand for?’
‘Bryn Dywer’s Cast-Offs,’ she said. ‘Life-time membership free in exchange for a broken heart.’
His shoulders shook as he laughed. ‘As far as I know I haven’t broken any hearts irreparably,’ he said as he reached for the door knob. ‘Sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning.’
Mia let out a slow, prickly breath as the door closed behind him. If she wasn’t very careful hers could well be the first heart he would damage beyond repair. If she was honest with herself, she was more than halfway to being in love with him as it was; it wouldn’t take too many more of those scorching kisses of his to make her go beyond the point of no return.
Mia woke to brilliant sunshine and the chorus of birds, the distant roll of the ocean in the distance filling her with instant energy. She tossed the sheet aside and came up short when she saw her suitcase next to the built-in wardrobe. Bryn must have brought it in during the night or the early hours of the morning.
A feathery sensation passed over her at the thought of him seeing her sleeping in that big bed, perhaps uncovered and totally vulnerable. She’d been hot during the night and recalled throwing the sheet off at one point until the cooler air of the morning had made her reach for it again.
She gave herself a mental shake and quickly unpacked a bikini and a two-piece sports outfit and trainers from her case and dressed quickly, tying her hair in a high pony-tail.
The house was quiet as she came downstairs but she saw signs of Bryn having had a cup of tea in the kitchen. The kettle was still warm and his cup was rinsed and placed upside down on the draining board.
She heard the clang of weights below her in the gym downstairs and pictured him working out, no doubt lifting three times her body weight as if it were nothing. She decided against joining him. She’d seen enough of his body last night and didn’t need reminding of how fabulously toned and muscled he was.
Besides, it was a beautiful day and she could hear the ocean calling. Hard exercise was what she needed to clear her mind from the disturbing images that kept creeping in. Images of her pinned intimately by Bryn’s hard body, his hips moving in time with hers as they both climbed towards the summit of sensual release. She could imagine he would be an exciting and demanding lover; every time he’d touched her she’d felt the hot charge of sexual energy pass from his body to hers.
She let out a frustrated breath and set a brisk pace as she ran down the steps leading to the footpath to the beach.
There were a few surfers already out riding the point break on Main Beach and she jogged along until she came to the pathway leading to Noosa National Park. She followed the coastal track looking out over Laguna Bay and then on to Boiling Pot and Dolphin Point, the growing heat of the morning making her turn just past Winch Cove to head into the cooler shadows of the melaleuca and tea-tree forest.
The honey-sweet smell of the white-canopied bush filled her nostrils as she jogged past gnarled banksias and spiky pandanus. Bush turkeys scratched around the undergrowth and overhead she heard the flap of large wings and looked up to see a pair of glossy black cockatoos flying past.
Further along the track she passed a young couple who were walking hand in hand, their easy-going, loving chatter striking a note of regret in Mia’s chest.
How wonderful it would be to be loved like that, she thought. She wanted to be loved the way her sister Ashleigh was loved by her husband, Jake, the way her parents had loved each other for nearly thirty years.
But what she wanted was impossible; Bryn wasn’t the thirty-year-relationship type. Thirty days was too long for him. He wasn’t interested in continuing their association past the point of his great-aunt’s death. And that could be a matter of just a few short months or possibly even weeks.
The track veered back to Laguna Bay and Mia ran on down to Main Beach, and, leaving her shoes and outer gear on the sand, headed for the waves in her red and white bikini.
She swam the length of the beach, which ran parallel to the popular shopping and restaurant strip of Hastings Street. She turned at the rocky outcrop at one end to go back the way she’d come, the water warm but still refreshing. Every so often a swelling wave would pick her up and let her down again in a gentle rolling movement before it gathered force on its way to the shore.
The sun burned down with intense summer heat and when she waded back through the wash to the sand she could see the numbers on the beach had swelled. Young children were playing at the water’s edge with buckets and spades, their parents close by, where several colourful umbrellas were already up in defence against the scorching rays of the sun.
She sat and looked out to sea, hoping for a moment to gather her thoughts before returning to Bryn’s house. But even after sitting there soaking up the warmth of the sun for several minutes she had to finally acknowledge that her vigorous run and swim hadn’t been able to do what she’d hoped they would do. It was impossible to avoid any longer the truth that was as persistent as the waves as they drummed against the shore.
She couldn’t escape it any more; there was no running away from it even if she ran around the world and back twice over.
She was in love with Bryn Dwyer.
She wasn’t sure how it had happened. She had thought him the most detestable man alive and yet somehow over the past few weeks he had become the very focus of her life. She couldn’t imagine how her life was going to be without him in it