Terms Of Their Costa Rican Temptation

‘Water?’ Benoit offered as if he didn’t know that he had been the cause of her choking.

‘No,’ she said, clearing her throat. ‘No, thank you. Three years...’ she said, turning over what that might mean in her mind. ‘You’d be celibate for three years? Really?’ she said, her errant thought escaping before she could stop it.

Now it was Benoit’s turn to look shocked.

‘Explain,’ he demanded.

‘It might not be a real marriage, but I’m assuming there will be a fair amount of public scrutiny at the news that a well-known international playboy...’ she pushed on past the scoffing sound he made ‘...is getting married. And I have absolutely no intention of being humiliated while you are repeatedly photographed with your latest plaything.’

‘Plaything?’ he repeated.

‘Not the point, Benoit,’ Skye replied, knowing that she would stand firm on this.

‘And you?’

‘What about me?’

‘All things being equal, you would also be celibate for three years.’

‘That...that’s fine,’ she said, suddenly not liking the way the focus of this conversation had turned back on her.

‘There’s nothing fine about it,’ Benoit returned hotly. Honestly, Skye really didn’t know what he was getting so worked up about. The one time that she’d had sex with Alistair had been...had been...well, fine and she just didn’t really know what all the fuss was about.

He was staring at her now as if there was something wrong with her and she didn’t like it. It was the same way she’d felt when she’d overheard women talking about sex as if it was something incredible—as if she were missing something. Life was so busy that she’d not really had a chance to make close friends and there was no way she was talking to her sisters or mother about it. Her mother, who thought that sex was a divine right, that bodies should be worshipped and that love was something that was better shared with as many people as possible.

Oh, God. She wanted to put her head in her hands. She was a twenty-six-year-old prude.

‘We can talk about this later,’ she said evasively.

‘Oh, no. We’re talking about this now. We’ll have other things to talk about later,’ he warned.

‘Why—are you going to demand that I share your bed if you’re not allowed to find others to do so?’

‘Don’t be crass. I wouldn’t do that to an innocent.’

He said the word with such distaste that it took her a moment to realise what he was saying.

‘Wait—you think I’m a virgin?’

‘You’re not?’ he asked, just as shocked.

‘No!’

Skye didn’t know why she was so offended. There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin; it was just that she wasn’t and she didn’t like him thinking that she was. Was that really how she came across? But now he was looking at her as if he couldn’t quite work her out.

‘Who was he?’

‘No one important.’

‘Clearly.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that. And I have no intention of sharing that with you.’

‘Skye, we’re going to have to get to know each other very well if we’re going to fool my family and the Chalendar board that we’re in love and getting married. And if you can’t even tell me about a boyfriend then—’

‘Fine, but not now.’

‘You have something better to do?’ he asked, as if amused.