The Billionaire's Unwanted Virgin (2 page)

"That's not helping. I'm no hooker, Sara. At least
she knew what she was doing. Fuck it, I have no clue, and he's got to be into
something dodgy to pay that much."

Sara squeezed her shoulder. "You'll be fine. I know
a guy who's a whiz kid with computers. I'm sure we can trace this Zeb guy and
find out a bit about him. How hard can it be? And then if he does look dodgy,
you can tell him to stuff it."

The words were meant to comfort, but they had the
opposite effect on Alice. Dodgy or not, unless he was an axe murderer, and they
would hardly be able to find that out in advance, how could she turn down that
amount of money? It was the solution to all their problems, and it would
literally mean the difference between life and death for Beth.

Alice swallowed past the lump in her throat. No,
whatever happened, she would have to go through with it. Lie back and think of
England, she could do that. It was one night, after all. That's what the bid said.
One night out of her life and it would mean the world to Beth and her mum.

How hard could it be?
                                                      

****

Incredibly hard as it turned out to be. Sara's friend
had not been able to find out a thing about the person who made that
astonishing bid. Every move had been blocked, and the ominous e-mail Alice had
received asking her to await further instructions had not helped to calm the
army of ants marching under her skin now.

Neither had the difficult conversation she'd had with
her mum, when she explained why she had to go away for the weekend. Her mum's
eyes had widened and then filled with tears, and she'd pleaded with Alice not
to go through with it.

"I know we need the money. God knows I know we do,
but not like this, Alice. I didn't even know you still were a virgin." Her
mum had colored then, her discomfort at discussing this with her obvious.
"I just assumed you must have … well, you know … ages ago like your sister
did."

"After what happened to Mary, how could you think
that, Mum? She put me off for life. Well, maybe not life, but I was determined
to not just throw it away. I was going to wait…" She'd clamped her mouth
shut instantly, but it had been too late.

"See! This is what I mean. You've waited for that
someone special, and now you're going to throw it all away to some stranger
you've never even met? It's wrong, Alice. So very wrong. I can't let you do
this. I can't."

Her mother had broken down into floods of tears, and
they'd sat and held on to each other for ages. But Alice's mind was made
up.
 
She simply had no choice. When the
expensive limo had pulled up outside their modest house three hours ago, she'd
hugged her still worried looking mum and climbed in.

The liveried driver had been courtesy itself; taking her
overnight bag off her, and had not batted an eyelid at the outfit she'd chosen
to wear. Dressed in baggy jeans, sandals, and a long flowing top that
completely obscured her body she looked better served to visit a monastery than
go to an assignation.

There was no way she could bring herself to wear the
'fuck me dress' Sara had insisted she ought to wear for her
date.
This
wasn't a date. It was a business transaction at best, and she didn't want the
guy she was about to meet to get any funny ideas. Lord only knew what he must
think of her as it was. The best she could hope for was to hold onto her
dignity, and she hoped
he
would not make her feel like a whore.

She started when they pulled up
outside imposing gates that opened as if by magic. Alice had no idea where
exactly she was, other than somewhere in Hampshire and not that far from the
coast. She had caught the odd glimpse of the sea in the distance as they sped
effortlessly along the country lanes. Any attempt at conversation with the
driver had been thwarted by his polite, monosyllabic responses. He had enquired
after her comfort, reassured her that she could help herself to anything in the
mini fridge on board, but he hadn't divulged any personal information, not even
his name. She was simply to call him driver.

Clearly whoever she was meeting valued
his privacy to such a degree that he lived behind six foot walls in the middle
of nowhere. The car glided along a seemingly never ending driveway until they
finally pulled outside an imposing looking mansion. It wouldn't have looked out
of place in a horror movie with its grey imposing brick work, but it also
reeked of understated elegance and extreme wealth. Surrounded by cultured
gardens, and sculpted trees, it looked like heaven and hell all rolled into
one. Utterly secluded, and so quiet the birdsong seemed unnaturally loud when
driver opened the door for her and gestured to get out.

A small, wiry looking man bounced on
the soles of his feet with nervous energy at the top of the steep stairs
leading up to the entrance, and Alice's stomach dropped. Was this
him?
A
shiver went through her at the thought. Not that he looked menacing, exactly.
He had to be in his fifties, with a receding grey hairline and small green eyes
that studied her from behind silver rimmed glasses. He held a manila folder in
his hand and now looked from the folder to her with a frown on his face.

"Miss Wanderlund?" he asked,
when she reached the top of the stairs. His frown changed to a smile at her nod
in confirmation, and his eyes narrowed. He almost looked thoughtful, as though
he was silently assessing her, and Alice wiped her sweaty palms on the side of
her jeans.

"You're not exactly what we were
expecting?"

She shrugged her shoulders, feigning a
nonchalance she was far from feeling. In fact, if her stomach churned any more
she would be sick right on top of his polished loafers. She straightened her
shoulders and took some degree of courage from the fact that she now looked
down on him. At five foot eight, Alice was not small, and this employee—for she
realized he had to be another representative of this Zeb person—barely reached
the top of her nose. She had to suppress a smile at the shiny bald spot right
under her vision, and some of her nervousness fled.

"Well, I am Alice Wanderlund, so
I'm not sure who else you would be expecting." There was a slight wobble
in her voice, but she was quite proud of the fact that she managed to form the
words at all, past the huge lump clogging up her throat.

"Forgive me, it wasn't my intention
to be rude. I am Percy Nevin." He extended his hand, and Alice shook it
dutifully. It was a surprisingly strong handshake, and this time when he
smiled, there was genuine warmth behind it.

"I hope you had a pleasant
journey here. You will want to freshen up I expect and—"

"Actually, Mr. Nevin, I'd just as
soon get this over with, so if you don't mind can you take me to whoever … err
… well…" She couldn't bring herself to say the words. To say it out loud
would make it all seem even more sordid.

He smiled again and stepped aside for
her to pass. The coolness of the entrance hall raised gooseflesh on her exposed
arms, and she wrapped them around herself, as she gingerly slid her feet along
the marble flooring. A huge curved staircase led up to the top floor, and
numerous doors led off the entrance hall downstairs.

"If you'll follow me to the
courtyard. I will have some refreshments brought for you, and I'll see whether
he's available."

Alice frowned at the deliberate
avoidance of his employer's name.
 
At
this rate they would probably do the deed with her blindfolded and gagged. She
shivered again, and rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. That thought should
have her run away screaming, surely, rather than have her secretly excited.
This wasn't some romance novel, and she was not about to meet some dashing
hero. Someone who had as much money as this Zeb had to be butt-ugly or
something. That was just the way it worked, wasn't it? And why did she wonder
about this now? It wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference, because he'd
bought her to do with her as he pleased.

Again she suppressed a shiver, and she
breathed a sigh of relief when they stepped out of the cool house and into the
courtyard. The sun warmed the little square, and she slid onto one of the
garden benches scattered around the fountain in the middle with a grateful
sigh. Ivy clung to the brickwork giving the house a much more welcoming feel.

"I'll be back momentarily, Miss
Wanderlund." Percy Nevin disappeared through a door on the opposite side,
and Alice couldn't help herself. Fountains always reminded her of a vacation
they'd had in Rome, when Daddy had still been alive. They had thrown a coin
into every fountain they'd found, and Alice had closed her eyes and made a
fervent wish.

She dug in her oversized handbag for
the spare change that always rolled around on the bottom and stepping up to the
fountain, closed her eyes and threw the coin inside.

"I'm not sure any wishes made
here will work, little Alice in Wonderland."

The deep, slightly accented voice
wrapped itself around her like a heavy cloak, even as the age old joke on her
name had her grind her teeth. She spun ‘round to give the owner of that
sinfully sexy voice a verbal dressing down, but her tongue stuck to the roof of
her mouth when the man stepped out of the shadows.

Dark eyes the color of charcoal
assessed her from under straight slashed eyebrows drawn together in a frown.
Shiny jet black hair, pulled back into a ponytail with a sliver of leather,
framed a proud, tanned face with a crooked nose that looked as though it had been
broken more than once. A five o’ clock shadow already framed that prominent
jaw, marred by a lethal looking scar on one side that drew her gaze to a full,
sensuous mouth, set in a grim smile.
 
He'd rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, exposing strong forearms and
the edges of an intricate tribal tattoo on his left biceps. Arms crossed over
his chest, his broad shoulders strained the fabric of his shirt.

Aware that she was staring, she could
not tear her eyes away from his languid long-legged advance. The faded denim
jeans clung to him like a second skin and accentuated the obvious bulge in his
groin. Heat crept into her cheeks, and she hastily tore her eyes away from that
part of his body. She did not need the reminder of what she had signed up for.
His clean, male scent filled her senses when he stepped right into her personal
space, so close that his body heat warmed her frozen skin, and she had to crane
her neck to look up at him. He towered over her and leant one hand on the
fountain wall while he looked inside.

"So, tell me little Alice, what
did you wish for?"

"I'm not little, and that play on
my name is hardly original." Her voice was far too breathy, but at least
she'd managed to get it to work.

He focused his attention back on her,
and her heart turned into a jack hammer. The man was simply gorgeous. Sexy and
dangerous all rolled into one heart-stopping, testosterone-laden man, who had
bad boy written all over him. If he was indeed Zeb, then heaven help her. Lying
back and thinking of England suddenly didn't seem like an option anymore.

"If the shoe fits…" He was
so close that his hot, slightly minty breath raised the fine strands of hair
that had come loose out its confines at the nape of her neck, and she drew a
shuddering breath into her lungs. His gaze followed that movement and settled
briefly on her breasts. They felt heavier under his obvious perusal, and her
nipples beaded into hard nubs. She hastily crossed her arms and stepped away
from him, to give herself some much needed breathing space, and to avoid him
noticing her body's shameless reaction to his presence.

A brief smile crossed his forbidding
expression, and he, too, took a step back, much to her relief.

"Stop looking at me as though I'm
going to pounce on you. Percy tells me you wanted to get this over with, so
here I am, little Alice."

Alice had to remind herself to keep
breathing.

"You're Zeb?"

If anything he looked even more
menacing at her whispered question.

"No, Zeb was my brother." He
shook his head, and his lips tightened into a cruel twist. A chill of
foreboding sent an icy tendril up her spine, and she couldn't suppress the
shudder that went through her as his hard eyes connected with hers.

"I'm afraid my brother's
foolishness killed him, so whatever little game you're trying to pull, you've
just run out of luck, little Alice, because I seem to have inherited you."

"I am so sorry for your
loss."

The whispered words kicked him in the
gut and knocked the wind out of him. He'd expected drama and tears, not this
quiet statement. Her hand went out as if to touch him, but she seemed to think
better of it, when her tear-stained eyes sought his. He braced himself for the
histrionics that were sure to follow, but she surprised him again. She blinked
the tears away, straightened her shoulders, and offered him a weak smile.

"I shan't intrude on your time
any longer then. If you can just call me a taxi to take me to the nearest train
station I'll make my own way home." She didn't look at him as she mumbled
the words, looking fragile enough at this moment for a gust of wind to knock
her over. She wasn't small by any means, but even so, in her flat sandals, her
head would fit just nicely under his chin. In heels she would be the perfect
height for him to kiss her without him having to stoop too low.