The Virgin's Debt to Pay

‘Okay?’

She looked back at him. ‘I mean, I don’t know, do I? It was my first time.’

Her words propelled Luc forward and he caught her arms in his hands. She felt unbearably slender and delicate all of a sudden. He was acutely aware of how petite she was. ‘It was more than okay. I felt your body’s response, and not everyone has that experience for their first time.’

She blushed even more now but she stared at him. ‘I’ll have to take your word for it.’

Luc was torn between laughing out loud at her sheer front and tipping her back onto the sheets to remind her exactly how unbelievably good it had been. But she’d be sore, and frankly he didn’t like the strength of the emotions running through him. This was not a post-sex scenario he had ever experienced before. Usually there was a bare minimum of conversation before he left. Right now it was hard to let her go.

In fact, he was afraid that the longer they stood there, the more likely it was that he would take her again. Especially when she was looking at him with those huge pools of amber and green. Her face flushed and hair wild. Clothes in disarray.

Doing something he’d never done before—exhibiting any kind of post-sex tenderness—he put his hands to the buttons of her shirt and did them up, gritting his jaw when he felt the swells of her breasts underneath the material.

He stood back. ‘You should go. Take a bath. You’ll be tender.’

She swallowed and for a moment looked endearingly unsure. And unbelievably sexy.

‘Go, Nessa,’ Luc growled, aware of the tenuous grip on his control.

She looked around at the sheet and made a gesture. ‘I should take—’

‘I’ll take care of it.’ This was unprecedented territory for Luc.

Finally, she left and Luc watched her walk out, slightly unsteadily. Her skirt was still at an angle and all he could see were those slim legs and remember how they’d felt clamped around his hips. She was a lot stronger than she looked.

Luc tried to make sense of what had just happened but it was hard. One thing was sure, though: Nessa O’Sullivan had just managed to impact somewhere no one had touched him in a long, long time. And if he was to consciously allow her to gain any more advantage, then he’d be the biggest fool. What just happened...it couldn’t happen again. No matter how much he wanted her.

* * *

Nessa stayed in the bath until the water cooled and her skin had started to pucker. There was tenderness between her legs but also a lingering buzz of pleasure.

She couldn’t quite believe the sequence of events that had led to that frantic coupling on sheets in a stables with Luc Barbier.

Her whole body got hot just recalling how quickly they’d combusted. How easily she’d given in, and given away her innocence. And, how easily she’d justified it to herself. And you’d do it again right now if you could, whispered a wicked little voice. Nessa knew it was true. She wouldn’t have the strength to resist Luc again, not after that. It was like experiencing paradise and then having to deny it existed.

And while he wasn’t here right now, cosseting her and whispering sweet nothings in her ear, the way he’d told her to leave and take a bath, and how he’d done up her buttons for her, had made her feel pathetically cared for.

She cringed and wanted to submerge herself under the water when she thought of how Luc had to be seriously regretting what had happened. Nessa cringed even more to think of him disposing of the evidence of her virginity.

He was a man used to sleeping with the most beautiful women in the world: experienced worldly women, not naive innocents like Nessa.

She took a deep breath as if testing for emotional pain and she let it out shakily. Her emotions were intact. Luc had impacted her on a physical level but that was all, she assured herself.

Liar, mocked a voice. Seeing those slivers of the more complex man under his stern exterior, and his gruffly tender treatment at the end had moved her more than she cared to admit.

If she saw any more evidence of that Luc, she wasn’t so sure her emotions would remain untouched. And forming an attachment to Luc Barbier would be a lesson in futility and pain. Of that she was certain.

One thing was clear. The moment of madness just now couldn’t happen again. Not that Nessa imagined for a second that Luc wanted it to. His self-recrimination had been palpable, and that suited Nessa fine. It did, she told herself. No matter what her newly awakened body might be aching for in secret places.

CHAPTER SIX

LUC LOOKED AT the figure riding the horse and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The boy—for it had to be a boy, he was too slight to be a man—was riding one of his prize thoroughbreds as if he’d been riding her all his life.

Jockey and horse were one entity, cutting through the air like a bullet. He’d never seen the filly perform so well. And he already itched to see what the jockey would be like on Sur La Mer, back in France. He just knew instinctively that he could be the missing link to get the best out of the horse.

Luc looked at his chief Irish trainer. ‘Okay, who is he and where has he been before now, and can we retain him immediately?’ Luc knew how rare it was to find raw talent like this.

Pete had come to him a few minutes ago and just said enigmatically, You need to see this.