The Hot-Headed Virgin: The Virgin's Price / The Greek's Virgin / The Italian Billionaire's Virgin. Trish Morey
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said. ‘And think of how rich and famous he is. You’ll never have to worry about the rent again.’
‘His money doesn’t matter to me in the slightest,’ Mia lied.
The truth was, Bryn Dwyer’s money was the only reason she was doing this, to help Ellie, otherwise she would have told him exactly where to put his stupid fiancée role with considerable relish. She’d already deposited the wad of money he’d given her into her sister’s credit-card account, which had in some way made her feel a little less compromised about what she was doing in playing the role he’d assigned her. At least it would tide her sister over until she could get her hands on some more.
‘I’m sure his money doesn’t matter to you but every little bit helps,’ Gina responded pragmatically. ‘So when are you seeing him again?’
Mia glanced at her watch and felt her stomach clench in panic at how she was going to be ready in time. ‘In about two hours.’
‘Two hours?’ Gina looked aghast. ‘But you haven’t even done your hair!’
‘Can I borrow that black evening dress of yours?’ Mia asked as she kicked off her shoes and released her pony-tail.
‘Which one? The one with the diamanté halter-neck or the one with the split up the thigh?’
‘Which do you think is sexier?’
Gina scrunched her face up as she thought about it. ‘Definitely the split—besides, you’ve got the legs for it.’
Mia stared at her reflection an hour and forty-five minutes later. There was no trace of the struggling and out-of-work actor now. In her place was a sophisticated vision in close-fitting black satin, her blonde hair scooped up in a casual but still elegant twist on top of her head, the glittering drop earrings she’d borrowed off Gina giving the final touch of glamour.
‘Wow…you look fabulous. Bryn is going to fall in love with you all over again when he sees you,’ Gina said.
Mia stifled a cynical little laugh. Bryn Dwyer didn’t seem to be the type to fall in love with anybody but himself. The Press had been full of his numerous relationships, none of them lasting more than a week or two. And no wonder, she thought uncharitably. With his ego the size it was, there wouldn’t be room for anyone else’s in any of his relationships.
‘That’s him!’ Gina whispered as the doorbell sounded. She scooped up the evening bag she’d lent Mia and ushered her towards the door.
Mia flicked a loose tendril out of her eye and opened the door to find a man dressed in a chauffeur’s uniform standing there.
‘Good evening, Miss Forrester. My name is Henry. I’m Mr Dwyer’s driver. I have been instructed to take you to him for this evening’s event. He had another commitment but told me to tell you he will meet you there.’
Mia saw Gina’s eyes go out on stalks but she herself was not so impressed by such opulent wealth. She hated unnecessary displays of prosperity and couldn’t help feeling Bryn had done it deliberately to remind her of his power over her. She inwardly fumed as she wondered what his other commitment had been—no doubt a quick dalliance with one of his numerous lovers.
She gave the driver a pleasant smile and followed him out to the stretch limousine and turned around in her seat to give the awestruck Gina a little fingertip wave once Henry had settled her inside.
A few minutes later they were travelling across the Harbour Bridge into the city, the summer sun still high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the high-rise buildings. There were numerous yachts out, their white sails in perfect accord with the sail-like structure of the Sydney Opera House, which sparkled in the bright sunshine.
Within a short time Henry drove into the sweeping driveway of one of the premier hotels, where a host of paparazzi were already gathered in anticipation as one of the hotel staff stepped forward to open her door.
Mia had to rely on what she’d learnt in a role play workshop she’d done a few months back. She stepped out of the vehicle as if she were royalty, smiling graciously for the flashing cameras as she made her way across the red carpet to the ostentatious foyer.
The ceiling was dripping with crystal chandeliers, the marbled floor beneath her high-heeled feet was polished to perfection and huge, fragrant floral arrangements dominated the centre table in front of the grand, sweeping staircase.
A journalist thrust a microphone in her face. ‘Miss Forrester, tell us how it feels to have won the heart of Sydney’s most confirmed bachelor.’
She smiled sweetly and answered in a breathy tone. ‘It feels absolutely wonderful.’
‘You are the envy of the young and single female population of Sydney,’ another one said. ‘No one ever thought he would commit. Can you tell us your secret?’
‘There is no secret about love,’ she said. ‘It takes you by surprise when you’re least expecting it.’
‘Is it true you met by accident?’ a female reporter asked.
‘Yes…’ Mia gave a coy smile. ‘I accidentally spilt a cup of coffee in his lap.’
‘Is there any truth in the rumour that Mr Dwyer’s comments in this morning’s paper in regard to your performance in Theodore Frankston’s latest production precipitated your—er—little accident?’
‘No, of course not…as I said, it was an accident. It just slipped out of my hand,’ Mia lied with increasing confidence. ‘It was only when he stood up that I realised who he was and…well…I was overwhelmed by my feelings, as indeed he was too.’
‘There has been some suggestion that this is all a publicity stunt,’ another journalist said. ‘Do you have any comment to make?’
‘Yes.’ She looked towards the television camera, giving her lashes a little flutter before she continued in the same breathy tone. ‘I would like to say to all those sceptics out there that there is such a thing as love at first sight. Bryn and I are living proof of it. As soon as we met it was like…kismet.’ She was on a roll and continued with a hand pressed to her bosom. ‘I could almost hear the angels singing.’ She gave a dreamy sigh. ‘I can’t wait until we’re married. It’s like a dream come true.’
‘Er—thank you, Miss Forrester.’ The journalist turned to the camera. ‘Well, you’ve heard it straight from the filly’s mouth, so to speak. To those who’ve just tuned in, Sydney’s twice-in-a-row Bachelor of the Year has finally met his match. The official engagement of Miss Mia Forrester and Mr Bryn Dwyer has made headlines around the country.’
Mia turned as a hand touched her on the elbow.
‘This way, Miss Forrester,’ a hotel staff member said as he directed her towards the staircase. ‘Mr Dwyer will be here shortly. The ballroom is on the first floor.’
Mia picked up the tiny train on her dress and glided up the stairs as the cameras flashed behind her. It occurred to her then that she was quite enjoying herself. She hadn’t expected to but somehow she was relishing the role of Bryn’s fiancée. She was particularly pleased with her portrayal of a star-struck ingénue. Who said she couldn’t act?
The ballroom was decked out with pink and blue balloons and streamers, the arc of tables beautifully and elegantly set for dinner around a small dance floor.
The other guests had already assembled and were enjoying their pre-dinner drinks as the waiters began to lead them to their tables.
‘You’re on table one,’ the same staff member informed her. ‘Come this way.’
Mia followed him to the table where some of the guests were already seated. They sprang to their feet as she approached and congratulated her effusively.
‘Such wonderful news!’
‘I always knew he’d do it some day.’
‘But you’re gorgeous!