Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding

She was gorgeous, yes—but her looks had not yet had the power to lift her from her rather mundane circumstances and elevate her to the kind of lifestyle which such beauty merited. Was that breathless and rather sweet attitude carefully cultivated? Because maybe she had been clever enough to realise that her distinctive looks were a gift from the gods which should not be squandered. That they could be used as a bargaining tool in the oldest barter-game in the world—beauty in exchange for riches.

Was that the real reason why she’d found herself a job in a chi-chi department store in one of the wealthiest areas of London? Hoping that some rich and ardent suitor would come walking in and whisk her away from it all? She must have been holding out for the highest bidder—the richest suitor to enter her radar—because what other reason would a woman have for giving away her precious virginity with such ease?

Giancarlo’s mouth hardened. And he had walked right into it. For someone who had acquired a sixth sense where gold-diggers were concerned—whose whole life had been shaped by one—he had been like putty in her hands. Bewitched by a pair of huge violet eyes and a pair of rose-petal lips and an unusual combination of shyness and sass.

Reeling from the sudden contempt in his eyes, Cassie sat up in bed, wanting to get away—terrified that she was going to do something stupid. Like cry. Or wonder aloud how she could have been such a gullible idiot to allow herself to get into such a situation with a man it was now clear had nothing but disdain for her. ‘No, there’s been no one else! And I’m sorry I’ve been such a disappointment to you, but don’t worry, Giancarlo—I won’t bother you ever again.’

Flinging the rumpled coverlet off her, she wriggled towards the end of the bed, but Giancarlo reached out and captured her with a hand to her naked hip.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’

‘Home! Let me go! I didn’t think that it was such a terrible sin to make love with a man. Why didn’t you interrogate me beforehand to check that I fulfilled all your obviously strict criteria? No virgins need apply! Now will you please let go of me?’

‘No.’ His voice was firm and his hold on her unwavering. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’

‘Are you going to keep me here against my will?’

He gave a hollow laugh. ‘I think you may be taking the innocent virgin theme a little too far,’ he said drily as he pulled her warm body back into his arms. ‘I’m not intending to keep you prisoner here against your will. Come back here, Cassandra—and don’t fight me just because you feel you ought to, when we both know you don’t want to.’

The awful thing was that he was right—she didn’t want to fight him. She wanted to nestle in his arms and she wanted him to start kissing her all over again. Or at least—that was what her body wanted. But her mind was telling her something entirely different. It was telling her to be proud and strong and to get away while she could because this dark and dangerous man could lead her into all kinds of trouble. ‘Leave me alone!’ she whispered.

‘No.’ His kissed her—felt her brief resistance as she tried to fight it, but her lips parted beneath his within seconds. A woman’s kiss tasted different once you’d made love to her, he reflected—it was scented with arousal and warm with intimacy. He felt the renewed flicker of desire as his tongue flicked against hers in sensual duel before drawing his head away to look down into her dazed face. ‘Just tell me one thing. A woman who looks like you…still a virgin. How come? There must have been a million men who wanted you before I came along.’

She felt that she shouldn’t have to explain herself—not to him—not to anyone. But pride made her want to, if only to prove that she wasn’t some kind of tramp, but a woman who had made a judgement and wouldn’t have regretted a moment of it if only he hadn’t been reacting like this.

‘Not a million men, no,’ she said slowly, because the fierce light from his black eyes was demanding some kind of answer to his question. ‘Some—of course. But a lot of them were men I’d grown up with—and they were more like brothers, really.’

‘And that’s it?’ he questioned coolly. ‘The sum total of your experience?’

‘Not quite all—I’ve had a few…’ She hesitated, until she realised that the fixed ebony spotlight of his eyes wasn’t moving. ‘Well, married men hitting on me.’

His eyes narrowed. Yes, he could imagine that. She, who looked like sin and temptation, would make the perfect mistress for a man locked into a dead relationship who was looking for a little bit of sweet diversion on the side. Yet who would have thought that beneath that mouth-watering exterior beat the heart of a virgin? Former virgin, he reminded himself grimly. ‘But you weren’t interested?’