Biker's Virgin

“What happened?”

“She saw a naked woman in my suite and assumed I was cheating on her,” I explained.

Ben frowned. “Naked woman… Are you talking about Emma?”

“Yes.”

“Emma was only in your suite because her room hadn’t been vacated yet,” Ben said, looking confused. “Molly knows Emma, surely?”

“She does,” I nodded. “But Molly never saw Emma’s face…”

“Then why the fuck didn’t you tell her?” he demanded.

“Because I realized something,” I said in a deadpan voice. “I’m not cut out for relationships; at some point, I’m going to hurt her. So…”

“You decided to make the decision for her—again.” Ben looked disgusted with me.

“I’m trying to protect her.”

“You’re an asshole,” he said, shaking his head at me. “Emma’s not going to like the fact that you used her to get rid of Molly.”

“Emma will understand,” I replied, not caring whether she did or not.

“Molly wants to leave first thing tomorrow morning,” Ben told me.

“Make the arrangements for her,” I said, knocking back my glass of bourbon. “Make sure she has a first-class seat back home.”

“And what are you going to do?” he demanded.

“I’m going to sit here and get drunk. Obviously.”

“You have meetings.”

“Cancel them,” I said firmly. “I’m taking a sick day.”

“And what about dinner?” he asked. “You were going to have dinner with Emma tonight.”

“Give her an excuse, any excuse,” I said uncaringly. “I’m not in the mood to make small talk with my sister tonight.”

Ben looked at me with a mixture of pity and disgust. “You just made a huge mistake; you know that, don’t you?”

“Ben, I mean this in the nicest possible way,” I said, pouring myself another glass. “Get out of my office and stay out of my business.”

“No problem,” he replied. “You’ll want to get used to being alone. And maybe you deserve to be.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I muttered darkly under my breath.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Molly

My mood was so sour flying back that even the luxury and comfort of first class could do nothing to soothe me. I had bought a book at the airport, but after realizing that I’d read the same sentence ten times, I decided to put it away and just wallow.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

I looked up at the statuesque blonde flight attendant who was leaning over me with a pleasant smile on her face. Her eyes were a dark brown, and her hair had been combed into a perfect topknot that displayed her high cheekbones and lovely aristocratic nose. She looked like the kind of woman who never had any guy troubles. She probably used men the same way they used her. Which worked, because she never expected anything more from them. Which also meant she could never get hurt.

I knew I was building a character around her face that probably didn’t exist, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t in the mood to be fair.