The Hot-Headed Virgin: The Virgin's Price / The Greek's Virgin / The Italian Billionaire's Virgin

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 them. Mia Forrester, however, was not likely to appreciate what he had in mind for her and it bothered him. It bothered him a great deal. But he had to find a way to convince her to go along with his plans. Time was running out and this was the only way he could see to solve the dilemma he was in.

Mia woke up as soon as the car came to a halt.

‘Hello, sleepyhead.’ His glinting eyes met hers, his mouth tilted in a little smile.

She struggled upright, appalled that she had draped herself all over him. She looked outside and saw they were in the driveway of an imposing-looking mansion in the exclusive suburb of Point Piper.

‘Is this your house?’

‘Yes. Come inside and I’ll show you around.’

Mia got out of the car reluctantly. Pretending to be his fiancée in public was one thing; coming back to his house and being alone with him was something else again. She didn’t trust him not to insist on another kissing rehearsal. How would she be able to keep a clear head if he decided to take things even further? She was already in over her head as it was. He was exactly the sort of man she’d actively avoided all her dating life. He was too self-assured and too experienced for her to keep at arm’s length. She just didn’t know how to handle men like him.

Bryn opened the soundproof panel and addressed the driver. ‘You can go home now, Henry, I’ll see that Miss Forrester gets home.’

‘Thank you, Mr Dwyer.’ He took off his cap at Mia and added, ‘Miss Forrester. Enjoy the rest of your evening.’

‘Thank you.’

Mia waited until the driver had left before turning on Bryn. ‘I thought I told you I didn’t want to come back here with you. I’m tired and I want to go home.’

‘You can sleep in tomorrow. It’s not as if you have to get up for work.’

‘Thanks to you,’ she said with an embittered look.

‘You can’t tell me you enjoyed working in that café, Mia,’ he said as he opened the door and ushered her in. ‘It was a pittance of a wage and you had to be polite to obnoxious people all day, which I can only assume from what I’ve seen of you so far was incredibly difficult, if not at times impossible.’

‘Not all of them were obnoxious,’ she countered with a narrow-eyed glare.

He shrugged himself out of his jacket and tossed it to one side before reaching to loosen his tie. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘No.’

He led the way to a sumptuous lounge with stunning views over the harbour. Two luxurious caramel-coloured leather sofas dominated the room, the floor was covered with deep cream carpet and the walls adorned with original paintings from some well-known Australian and international artists. There was a well-appointed bar at one end of the room and an impressive-looking sound and entertainment system along the far wall.

Mia stood looking out at the view rather than meet Bryn’s dark eyes. ‘How long have you lived here?’ she asked.

She heard the chink of a glass behind her. ‘A couple of years or so. I wanted a place where the Press can’t hound me all the time.’

She turned around to look at him in puzzlement. ‘I thought you actively courted the Press. Isn’t that the whole reason I’m playing this role for you, to increase your ratings?’

He took a sip of his drink before answering. ‘It’s one of the reasons you are here.’

She gave him a wary look, her heart beginning to thud unevenly. ‘You mean there’s more than one?’

He put his glass down and came to stand in front of her. Mia tried to step away but the backs of her legs came up against one of the sofas. She drew in a sharp little breath as she brought her gaze up to his. His eyes were so dark she felt as if she was staring into the moonless midnight sky.

‘When you poured that coffee in my lap this morning I thought it would be a good opportunity to give my ratings a boost by pretending to have a whirlwind romance with you, and it worked. The public fell for it, hook line and sinker. Annabelle called me earlier with the ratings for this afternoon’s show and they were absolutely phenomenal. The stuff the Press releases tomorrow will ramp them up even more. But it’s not the only reason I have for wanting you to act this role for me a little longer.’

Mia waited for him to go on, wondering what other reason he could have for continuing this ridiculous charade. She wanted it to stop before things got out of hand. She already felt as if she’d stepped over some sort of invisible barrier after he’d kissed her, not once but three times. She wasn’t even sure if what she was doing was even acting any more. The more time she spent with him the more the lines blurred between what was real and what was fantasy.

‘Jocey mentioned my great-aunt Agnes to you this evening,’ he said after a small pause.

‘Yes…’

‘She’s my only living relative and I owe her a great deal.’ He let out a small sigh and scored a rough pathway through the dark brown silk of his hair before adding, ‘She hasn’t got long to live and I would give anything to make her last few weeks of life as happy as they can possibly be.’

Mia was surprised by the sincerity in his voice, he sounded as if he really cared for his great aunt.

Truly cared.

She found it difficult to fit his public persona as a thirty-three-year-old filthy rich playboy with a reputation for shallow, short-lived relationships with the man in front of her, who obviously cared very deeply for an ageing relative.

‘I’m sorry about your great-aunt’s health,’ she said softly. ‘It must be an awful time for you both.’

His gaze meshed with hers once more. ‘My great-aunt’s only wish is to see me happily settled. She sacrificed her chance at marriage in order to raise me when my parents died so suddenly when I was a child. She gave up everything for me.’

Mia swallowed at the sudden intensity of his blue-black gaze.

‘You see, Mia, a simple engagement might be enough for the Press and the public, but it is not going to be enough for Agnes.’

‘I-it’s not?’

He shook his head gravely. ‘No. What she wants more than anything in the world before she dies is to see me officially married.’

‘M-married?’ she gulped. ‘Officially?’

‘Yes, in front of witnesses, preferably in a church and legally binding.’

‘You surely don’t expect me to…’ She found it impossible to finish the sentence in case by saying it out loud it would somehow make it inescapably true.

‘I’m asking you to marry me, Mia,’ he said, confirming her worst fears.

She stared at him open-mouthed. Surely she’d misheard him. He couldn’t possibly have…

‘Of course, I don’t expect you to do it for nothing,’ he went on evenly. ‘I will pay you a lump sum up front and a generous allowance for as long as the marriage continues.’

‘You want me to marry you? For real?’ She gawped at him incredulously. ‘You mean you’re actually serious about this?’

He frowned at her stupefied expression. ‘I’m not asking you to jump off the harbour bridge, Mia, just to wear my ring until such time as it is no longer necessary.’

Mia’s stomach felt as if she’d just jumped off Centrepoint Tower, which was a whole lot taller than the harbour bridge. How could she possibly consent to marrying a man she hated? And even worse—for money?

‘But marriage?’ she asked again, shaking her head in disbelief.

‘Yes, as in vows and rings and stuff.’

‘Marriage is a whole lot more than vows and rings and stuff,’ she said. ‘It’s a legally binding agreement between two people who are supposed to love one another and promise to do so until death parts them.’

‘So we’re not exactly up to scratch on all the particulars but we can still pull this off,’ he said.

‘You sound as if you’re discussing some sort of business proposal.’

‘That’s exactly what I’m discussing. A business proposal.’

Mia frowned as she tried to take it all in. ‘You mean this won’t really be a real marriage?’

‘It will be real in the sense that it will be official and legal. I can’t risk someone uncovering it as a sham but as for us being a normal couple…’ he hesitated for a fraction of a second before adding, ‘well, of course it won’t be real.’

She moistened her bone-dry lips. ‘So we won’t be…you know…’

His dark eyes met hers. ‘Having sex?’

‘Yes…’

‘Not unless you want to.’

Mia felt her cheeks burning but forced herself to hold his gaze. ‘Of course I don’t want to!’

His expression was contemplative as he held her gaze for several moments before he responded. ‘Fine; however, I must insist that for the duration of our marriage you refrain from sleeping with anyone else. I wouldn’t want anyone to suspect things are not normal between us if you are seen with someone other than me.’

She gave him a pointed look. ‘Do I get to insist on the same rule for you?’

‘I will do my best to be discreet if the need should arise.’

‘Then I insist on the same for myself. I, too, can be discreet.’

‘As you wish, but let me tell you if you put one step wrong I will be extremely angry. I don’t want my great-aunt to be upset by any rumours of impropriety.’

‘She won’t be upset by me,’ Mia said confidently. ‘At least I don’t have any empty-headed bimbos in my background.’

He gave her a droll look. ‘As of today I have finished with empty-headed bimbos. You are now, for all intents and purposes, the love of my life, and I expect you to maintain that illusion for as long as is necessary.’

‘And I thought my four years at stage school were challenging,’ Mia muttered resentfully.

‘The challenging part for you will be controlling your propensity for insulting me at every opportunity.’

She gave a cynical snort. ‘That’s rich coming from the High Priest of Insults. If you weren’t such a pompous jerk I wouldn’t find it so challenging.’

‘If you weren’t such an uptight little cat you would see I’m nothing like the public image I project,’ he clipped back.

She folded her arms across her chest, her expression full of scorn. ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re really nothing like the Bryn Dwyer the public has come to love and hate. Oh, please. Spare me the violins. Anyone can see you’re a self-serving egotist who would stop at nothing to achieve his ends. This crazy scheme of yours to hoodwink your great-aunt is a case in point. What kind of man would openly lie to a little old lady by marrying a woman he has absolutely no feelings for?’

‘I happen to love my great-aunt very dearly and I would do anything to make her last days happy, even if it means temporarily tying myself to a shrill little shrew to prove it.’

‘Shrill little shrew, am I, now?’ She glared at him. ‘Well, let me tell you I don’t think too much of you either. You’re hardly what I’d call the ultimate choice in husband material.’

‘You don’t have to think much of me,’ he said. ‘All I want you to do is marry me. We’ll sort the feelings end of it out later.’

‘I don’t have any feelings where you’re concerned other than unmitigated dislike.’

‘Good. You’d be best to keep it that way. I wouldn’t want to complicate things any further with you forming an emotional attachment to me.’

‘Where exactly did you go for your ego-enhancement surgery?’ she quipped in return. ‘Was it horrendously expensive?’

Bryn struggled to hold back his amusement but in the end gave up. His face cracked on a smile. ‘I think you are definitely wasted as a serious actor. You have a real future in comedy.’

‘Yes, well, this little farce is definitely running along those lines. You’re asking me to act a role that is totally immoral. Acting in front of an audience is one thing but acting in front of a dying old lady is another. And marriage! It just doesn’t seem right.’

‘It will make her happy. That’s all I want.’

‘I don’t want to do this, Bryn; you can’t force me.’

He held her gaze for an uncomfortable pause. Mia felt as if she was being slowly but steadily backed into a tight corner. She even wondered if it had been wise to mention the word force. She could see the steely determination in his darker than night eyes and her stomach felt as if something with tiny clawed feet had just scuttled across it.

The sudden silence was like a third presence in the room, brooding and somehow menacing, making the fine hairs on the back of her neck lift one by one.

‘I’m hoping it won’t have to come to me actually forcing you,’ he said. ‘At this point in time I’m simply asking you to help me bring a small measure of happiness to an old woman who sacrificed her own to raise me. I am willing to pay you well. I know it will be difficult for you. I also know you hate me, but I can’t help feeling you are the one person my great-aunt will take to. She heard us on the radio this afternoon; she already thinks you’re perfect for me. There are plenty of women I could ask to play this role, but I know my aunt well enough to know that the only one she will accept as the real thing is you.’

Mia tried not to think of how she was going to explain all of this to her family or friends. Instead she thought about an old lady who had sacrificed her life to raise a child who had been devastated by the loss of his parents. She thought too of the little boy of seven who had suffered such a tragic loss. A little boy with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes, a little boy who had become a man who, as far as she could make out, hid his childhood pain behind a façade of cocksure arrogance.