The Hot-Headed Virgin. Trish Morey
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We have a deal, remember? Now, stop looking at me as if you’re going to take me apart piece by piece and kiss me instead.’
She gave him a recalcitrant look. ‘I am not going to kiss you.’
His dark eyes held hers challengingly. ‘Yes you are.’
She elevated her chin defiantly. ‘Make me. I dare you.’
‘It will be my pleasure,’ he said and tugging her up hard against him brought his mouth down on hers.
CHAPTER FIVE
MIA was determined not to respond to his kiss but her awareness of the rest of the guests watching made it difficult for her to put her resistance into action. She began to kiss him back and told herself she’d had no other choice, but another part of her wondered if she would have responded anyway, audience or not.
His kiss softened and she felt herself being carried away by the swell of passion his searching tongue evoked as it entered the warm, moist cave of her mouth. She heard her soft sigh mingle with his and something hot and liquid seemed to burst deep inside her, running through her in a flowing tide that melted her to the core. Her chest was thrumming with a build-up of unfamiliar emotion, an acute neediness she had never experienced before. It frightened her at the same time as it intrigued her. How could someone she hated so much provoke such intense reactions in her body? Had she no control over her responses to him? Was it lust or something much more dangerous?
Bryn stepped back from her and looked down at her flushed face for a long moment, seemingly unaware that the band was still halfway through a song. Other couples were dancing around them but Mia felt as if time had come to a halt right where they were standing facing each other. She ran her tongue over her lips and her chest fluttered again when she saw his eyes dip to her mouth, lingering there for several pulsing seconds.
‘We should get back to the table,’ he said, his eyes dark and unreadable when they slowly came back to hers.
‘Yes…yes…we should…’
He took her arm and, sliding his hand down its slender length, curled his fingers around hers and led her back without another word.
The rest of the meal passed without incident, although Mia felt as if her face was going to crack from smiling all the time. Guest after guest approached her to congratulate her on taming the wild heart of Bryn Dwyer, and, while she thanked them each in turn, she found by the end of the evening she was totally exhausted by the pretence. It seemed wrong to be deliberately misleading everyone; she felt terribly compromised saying one thing while, indeed, the very opposite was true.
Acting a role had never been so challenging. She’d played some awkward parts in the past, things she hadn’t felt well prepared for and somehow struggled through, but nothing had ever been like this.
Dancing with Bryn was the hardest, for while she was sitting next to him at the table at least she could turn her head to talk to someone else, distracting herself with pleasant conversation, but each time he led her back to the dance floor she felt the pulse of his body against hers and the blood began to pound heavily through her veins. Circling the floor with his arms around her, held close to his hard male body, she had no way of protecting herself from his magnetic attraction. She fought it constantly, but each look he gave her made her heart race, each time his thigh brushed one of hers she felt the shock waves of reaction rush up her spine, and every time he smiled that devastatingly handsome smile she felt another chink of her armour fall away.
It annoyed her that he was so effortlessly attractive. There wasn’t a woman in the room, old or young, who didn’t simper up at him in open adoration and the last thing she wanted was to join their number.
‘Time to leave,’ Bryn said a little later as the ball began to draw to a close. ‘I saw that big yawn of yours.’
‘It’s been a long day,’ she said, his fingers curling around hers as he drew her to her feet.
‘And it’s not over yet.’
‘What do you mean, it’s not over yet?’ she asked with a little frown.
Bryn just smiled as another camera snapped in front of them. Mia forced her fixed lips into a smile as he led her from the room and down the sweeping staircase, waiting until they were in the back of the limousine before repeating her question. ‘What do you mean, the night isn’t over? I’m tired and I want to go home.’
Bryn leaned forward and closed the sliding glass panel that separated them from the driver. ‘There’s something I need to discuss with you. I thought we could go back to my place, where we won’t be disturbed.’
She stiffened in her seat. ‘I don’t want to go anywhere with you. Take me home. Now.’
‘We’ll be in private so you don’t need to worry about me having my wicked way with you.’
She gave him a cynical glance. ‘You expect me to believe that after the dirty dancing and under-the-table groping routine?’
‘You’ve got great legs,’ he said. ‘I was just wondering if they felt as good as they looked.’
She rolled her eyes scathingly. ‘I can’t imagine how you have acquired your Don Juan reputation if that’s any indication of the pick-up lines you resort to.’
‘It wasn’t a pick-up line, it was the truth. You do have a fabulous figure.’ He reached for her hand and ran his finger down the length of her bare ring finger. ‘Now that we’re engaged you need an engagement ring. I have one at my house.’
‘How very convenient,’ she scoffed. ‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’
He ignored her comment and stroked her finger again. ‘I want you to wear it.’
She snatched her tingling hand out of his grasp. ‘I can just imagine your taste in jewellery—no doubt it’s as overbearing and pretentious as you.’
The line of his mouth tightened. ‘Actually I think you might be pleasantly surprised.’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Let’s wait and see,’ he said and for the rest of the journey remained silent.
Mia sat back in her seat and scowled. She was tired and wanted the safety and security of her own little flat and the familiar, friendly face of Gina, not the company of a man who made her feel as if she was on the edge of a precipitous cliff all the time. No matter how hard she tried to resist his dark good looks she found the pace of her heartbeat increasing every time she met his fathomless blue eyes.
She turned her head away from his silent figure and looked out at the lights fringing the water as Henry drove them along the Cahill Expressway towards the eastern suburbs.
Her sleepy eyes struggled to stay open with the soporific motion of the luxury vehicle. She fought to keep them from closing but in the end she gave up and let her eyelids drift downwards…
Bryn looked down at the silky head resting on his lap, one of her hands on his thigh, her small, neat fingers splayed against him. He watched the in and out of her breathing, the slight movement of her chest lifting the creamy curves of her breasts tantalisingly. Her body was totally relaxed against him; gone was the stiff, defiant little firebrand with her quick-witted tongue, and in her place was a young woman who was breathtakingly beautiful now that the earlier tension had left her body. She had a sweet vulnerability about her, as if she had slipped to his lap in unconscious trust that he would do nothing to harm or exploit her.
He gently tucked a strand of hair off her cheek and secured it behind the small shell of her ear, her soft murmur as he did so making his chest feel a little strange, as if someone had caught him with a tiny fish hook deep inside and given it a quick little tug before just as swiftly releasing him.
He sighed and wondered if he was doing the right thing after all. He was used to women who were happy to play by the rules he set down, took what he offered and were grateful for whatever time and attention he afforded