The Billionaire's Virgin Temptation

Not that she would thank him. She didn’t want to have anything to do with him again. He was too big and too male and definitely too full of himself to be of interest to her. Something she hoped she’d made crystal clear by ignoring him at Tino and Miller’s wedding last year.

‘I don’t think every man is an EC,’ she denied to Molly now, using their shorthand for Emotional Coward. ‘But I do wonder how we’re even sisters. You’re like Snow White, talking to all the animals and skipping through the flowery fields, and I’m—’

‘The Wicked Queen,’ Molly filled in. ‘Only you’re not afraid of ageing, you’re afraid of commitment.’

‘I am not afraid of commitment.’

Molly’s eyebrow rose above her white mask as if to say I’m not getting into that argument again. But it wasn’t true.

‘I’m cautious,’ Ruby countered. ‘I don’t feel the need to leap into something before I’ve had a chance to study it from all angles.’

‘You’re not supposed to study love,’ Molly laughed. ‘You feel it. You experience it. You live it.’

Ruby shuddered. ‘You might. I don’t.’ And what would Molly say, she wondered, if she knew Ruby hadn’t even gone all the way with a man yet? That she was still a virgin like an old maid from the Victorian era!

Suddenly a loud honking sound drew her attention. Molly giggled as an irate swan cut a swathe through the glittering crowd and started pecking at the golden tassels hanging from an unsuspecting woman’s gown. The woman reeled back and would have slipped if the man standing beside her hadn’t put his hands out and swiftly caught her.

Ruby felt the breath back up in her lungs as she took in the man’s height and the breadth of his shoulders, the angle of his leonine head and dark hair styled in loose layers that could only have come from an upmarket salon.

‘Oh, my,’ Molly murmured. ‘Would you get a load of that?’

Ruby watched as the man wearing a masculine bronze mask competently corralled the indignant bird outside and returned to check if the woman was okay.

‘He’s gorgeous,’ her sister added on a sigh.

‘You can’t possibly know that,’ Ruby scoffed. ‘He’s wearing a mask that covers half his face.’

‘He carries himself like a man who doesn’t need to be handsome but is. Look at those shoulders—’

‘Padding.’

‘And the way his thighs fill out his dark suit trousers. No padding there, I’m guessing.’

Despite Ruby’s protestations, Molly was right—the man exuded power and confidence and his square-cut jaw, smooth olive complexion and sensual mouth conveyed that he was likely very good-looking behind the bronzed mask. He was also very familiar...

It’s not him, she assured herself, her eyes taking in the way his lips twisted into a half-cynical, half-sexy grin as the grateful woman gripped his arm and whispered something into his ear.

It couldn’t be him. Sam Ventura lived in LA and, even if he was visiting Sydney, what would he be doing at a fancy-dress ball thrown by theatre people?

Well, he wouldn’t be here, she reasoned. It was her imagination running overtime. Again. ‘Men like that only want one thing from a woman,’ she told Molly with lofty finality.

‘I know.’ Molly sighed. ‘Do you think he would want it from me?’

‘Molly!’

Ruby was saved from reminding her sister that she’d just ended a relationship with one feckless boyfriend and hardly needed another when one of Molly’s friends approached her. Perturbed by how very much the dark-haired man reminded her of Sam Ventura, Ruby offered to go to the bar, where they were serving on-demand cocktails.

‘Cosmopolitan,’ Molly requested.

‘Same,’ her friend added.

Leaving them to their excited chatter, Ruby headed for the gilt-edged bar that looked as if it was a permanent fixture but was most likely shipped in from Italy especially for the night.

She sighed as she joined the queue at the bar. Molly truly believed that love awaited her around every corner, while Ruby was of the view that danger awaited her. She wasn’t looking for romance and happy-ever-after. Her independence had been too hard-won to hand over to some man who would want her to compromise everything she had and then most likely walk away without a backward glance anyway. A man like her father. And like Sam Ventura.

No, that wasn’t fair. She might not like Sam very much but she didn’t know him well enough to tar him with her father’s particular brush. Still, why give a man who had heartbreaker written all over his too handsome face the chance to prove that he was? And why was he still on her mind? she wondered grouchily.

Love turned thinking women into veritable psych-ward patients, she knew that. Just look at how she had been after only kissing the man that one foolhardy night. He’d pulled her into his arms and she’d nearly lost her dignity and her panties in one fell swoop! Not that she’d been in love with him, but she’d certainly been in lust with him and that had been more than enough to keep her up late some nights.

‘Sorry, darling,’ a male voice crooned too close to her ear as she was jostled from behind. Ruby glanced over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of four colourful characters wearing Zorro-style masks with their eyes on her cleavage.

Very original, she thought, turning away and steadfastly ignoring them as she waited for the woman in front of her to collect her drinks order. If there was one valuable lesson Ruby had learned from watching her mother all these years, it was not to let her emotions do the thinking for her. Only fools rushed in and when they did they were often sorry with the results.

‘So I said, listen, doll-face.’ The guy who had jostled her spoke behind her with an over-the-top drawl. ‘You want it, you know where to find it. On your knees.’

His companions guffawed as if they were smug private school boys at a secret frat party instead of a posh event. Ruby rolled her eyes. Boys masquerading as men, she thought, half listening as they traded stories about their sexual exploits that were clearly too far-fetched to be believed.

‘Wait till you hear this one,’ one of them said in a low voice. ‘The other night Michael picked up this girl and get this—’ the wag paused for effect ‘—he says he kissed her and didn’t even realise it was his ex until she slapped his face and told him they’d broken up six months earlier. Apparently she’d changed her hairstyle and got implants.’

‘God, I wish I had his life,’ a nasally voice whined. ‘He’s an animal.’

Before she could give them a snarky look another voice interceded, a deep, velvet-coated voice she’d listened to all evening one long-ago night.

‘He’s an idiot,’ he said. ‘No man forgets a woman he’s kissed. At least he doesn’t if he has any integrity.’

Ruby’s heartbeat doubled and her skin turned pasty beneath her heavy make-up. It couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t!

‘What can I get you, ma’am?’

Startled by the question, Ruby stared blankly at the bartender.

‘To drink,’ he offered, gesturing to the vast array of colourful bottles on the marble shelf behind him.

‘Sorry.’ Ruby cleared her throat and forced herself to relax. ‘I’ll have...’ She frowned, trying to remember what Molly and her friend had asked for. ‘I’ll have two Cosmopolitans and a white wine.’

‘Riesling? Chardonnay? Chab—?’

‘Whatever’s strongest,’ Ruby cut in. And make it fast, please. Her palms were sweaty and she clasped them together, willing herself not to turn around to check who owned that all too sexy voice.

Fortunately she didn’t hear it again and when the bartender finally returned with her order she threw him a relieved smile and grabbed her drinks.

Keeping her head down, she turned and would have run smack into the side of one of the men if a masculine hand hadn’t shot out in front of her. Liquid sloshed over the side of one of the glasses and her eyes flew upwards to meet concerned brown ones.

Bedroom brown eyes with thick, dark lashes.

Her pulse raced erratically. It was the man in the bronzed mask. The tall one with the impossibly wide shoulders and long legs. The one who had saved the woman from being eaten by the swan. The one with the chocolate-brown hair brushed back in mussed waves just like Sam’s, and the impossibly kissable mouth perfectly positioned in a smoothly chiselled jaw. Also, just like Sam’s.

A shaft of liquid heat detonated low in her pelvis, sending plumes of sensation outwards just as it had done in that trendy pub two years ago. Just as it had done at Miller’s wedding one year ago.

It’s not him, she assured herself. It’s not him. It’s not—

‘Sorry about that.’ A hint of a lazy smile played at the edges of his mouth. ‘My fool acquaintance wasn’t watching where he was going.’

Ruby froze, her IQ falling by a hundred points. The man who—please, God—couldn’t be Sam Ventura cocked his head with bemused candour at her stultifying silence, his gaze falling to her lips before drifting lower and stopping on the drinks she was gripping precariously in front of her. ‘You need a hand carrying those?’ His dark gaze returned to hers. ‘I’d be more than happy to assist.’

Mentally berating her stunned-mullet act, Ruby kicked her brain into gear and clamped her lips together. This was not Sam Ventura. He was just a very good-looking, powerfully built replica who seemed very much like Sam Ventura.

‘Thanks, but no, thanks,’ she bit out in a low tone. ‘Believe it or not, I don’t need a man to make my life perfect.’

And why on earth had she said that?

Grimly aware that she had silenced them all, she turned her back on the little group and willed her jelly legs to hold her upright as she hurried back to Molly.

* * *

Well, well, well, if he hadn’t just been put in his place by the very beautiful, and very cool Ruby Clarkson, Sam mused, watching as she disappeared into the crowd as if the hounds of hell were after her. Because, as surprising as it was to run into her so soon, it was her; there wasn’t a shred of doubt in his mind.

A fiery spark of heat ignited inside him as he noted the graceful, swan-like neck and hourglass figure in the lavender gown. Obviously she hadn’t recognised him and that was a little...disappointing?

Two years ago he’d kissed her and felt as if he were standing on a tight wire being swung from side to side without a safety net to catch him. One year ago he’d wanted to repeat the experience and could have sworn she did too, and now she passed him by as if he was what? Nobody special? An irritant, even?

Ignoring the four bozos he hadn’t liked in high school and liked even less now, Sam grabbed his beer and headed into the party as the men behind him laughed uproariously at another lewd story that was as likely to be true as Sam suggesting that his father had put him first as a boy. Pure fantasy.

Shoving that thought back where it belonged, he took a pull of his beer.

Had Ruby really not recognised him?

The thought was like a burr in his side as he caught sight of lavender silk from across the room.

Not her, he realised as the woman lowered her hand-held mask to speak to her companion. His heartbeat steadied and he frowned as he realised that it had sped up in the first place. He wasn’t here to hit on anyone. He certainly wasn’t here to hit on Miller’s off-limits friend. Yet he couldn’t deny that his senses were instantly charged at having seen Ruby again so unexpectedly. Which had answered one of his earlier questions—no, the attraction he felt for her hadn’t lessened. Not even a little.

But what about for her?

He stood and watched the lively partygoers for a moment, wondering if he should prop up the bar for a bit, or head to a quieter corner until enough time had passed that he could leave. Or maybe he should hunt Ruby Clarkson down and wait for her to recognise him.

And what then? a little voice taunted. Surely you’re not thinking of finishing that thing you started two years ago?

Sam tilted the bottle of beer to his lips and took another long, fortifying pull.

Was he thinking that?

He couldn’t deny that the idea still held some appeal. More than some appeal, if he was being honest. Ruby Clarkson was a beautiful woman. What man wouldn’t want a long-legged, curvaceous honey-blonde woman spread out beneath him, naked and wanting in his bed, those glorious green eyes glazed over with desire, her lips plump and wet from his kisses, her creamy thighs parted for his possession?

Sam’s body hardened at the images rampaging through his head and softly cursed his wayward libido. No doubt she’d be great in bed. Great in his bed.

And there was that niggly note of ownership that had given him such pause two years ago. The caveman element that only she drew out of him. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like how effortlessly she drew him to her, or how often he thought about her. He certainly didn’t like how possessive he felt about her. Would one night with her in his bed solve that? Would one night rid him of the powerful pull she seemed to have over him or would it only make it worse?

Sam’s brooding gaze noticed a hint of lavender drift through the crowd towards the dance floor. Well, there was really only one way to test that theory, wasn’t there? Not that he intended to take her to his bed tonight. He wasn’t that desperate. But he could have a little fun with her, couldn’t he? A little innocent fun just until she recognised him. A smile curved the edges of his lips as he set off towards the dance floor. How long would it take her? One minute? Two?

Suddenly the evening looked a whole lot more interesting than it had half an hour ago.

CHAPTER TWO

‘I DON’T SEE anyone who looks like a pirate,’ Ruby said as she stood on tiptoe to see over the packed dance floor. ‘Are you sure that director is even here?’

‘Katy said he was.’ Molly’s lips tightened determinedly. ‘I have to find him. I’m psyched up to approach him, and who knows when I’ll get another chance like this? It’s not as if I can get a ticket to these kinds of events just by clicking my fingers.’

Ruby gave her sister a faint smile and tried not to look over her shoulder again for the man in the bronzed mask. She’d felt his eyes on her as she’d all but run from the bar, and she’d been so sure he’d follow her she’d been on tenterhooks ever since.

‘I think that’s him,’ Molly whispered, low-level excitement running through her voice.

Ruby’s stomach lurched. Then she realised that Molly hadn’t meant Sam Ventura’s doppelganger and told herself to stop fretting and breathe. It wasn’t Sam. Sam was in LA.

She glanced at the man Molly was so set on meeting and did a double take. The director-slash-pirate was big, blonde and fierce-looking. ‘Are you sure that’s him?’

‘Almost certain. Let’s dance so I can get closer.’

‘You dance, I’ll hold the drinks,’ Ruby said, taking Molly’s half empty cocktail glass and nodding towards the dance floor. The sooner Molly introduced herself to the famous director and begged for an audition for a part in his next movie, the sooner they could leave. ‘Time to walk the gangplank, my lovely.’

Molly surreptitiously smoothed a palm down the side of her gown. ‘I thought you said this was a hare-brained idea?’

It was a hare-brained idea but seeing her confident, madcap sister suddenly nervous, Ruby softened. ‘It’s a great idea. He’s going to love you. Just remember: no public sex.’

Molly smiled at that. ‘Of course not. Sex can come after I’ve won an Oscar for starring in his film and if we fall madly in love with each other.’ She straightened her shoulders and set her jaw determinedly. ‘You sure you won’t dance with me?’

‘In this dress?’ Ruby glanced down at her enhanced cleavage. ‘Not a chance.’

Molly scowled. ‘You’re no fun.’

‘I know. I work really hard at it.’

Laughing, Molly blew out a nervous breath and headed into the fray. Ruby sometimes envied her little sister her ability to put herself ‘out there’ like that. Ruby could do it for her clients but when it came to pursuing something for herself...well, she wasn’t that brave, and knowing that was one of her greatest strengths.

Sipping her drink while she held Molly’s, she savoured the crisp lightness of the wine, almost forgetting about the man in the bronzed mask until she glanced up and found him prowling towards her, a sexy grin on his face.

Instantly her breath backed up in her lungs and her pulse took off like a rocket. As if he sensed her response, a heated gleam entered his eyes, darkening them from chocolate to mink. ‘When you ordered those drinks I didn’t realise you intended to drink them all by yourself,’ he said, his intimate tone and soft laugh inviting her to play along with his charming joke.

A shiver snaked down Ruby’s spine at the sound of that deep, velvety chuckle. Oh, this guy was smooth. Dangerously smooth. He was also most definitely Sam Ventura. What was the point in trying to deny it any longer?

‘Another lame pick-up line,’ she said with cool derision. ‘How very original of you.’

Instead of taking her comment as the put-down it was meant to be, Sam seemed highly amused by it. ‘I didn’t realise I’d delivered a first one.’ His eyes glowed from behind his mask as he grinned down at her. ‘Now, if I told you that you had the kind of smile that could stop a man at fifty paces...that would be a lame pick-up line.’ His smile widened. ‘It would also be true.’

Ruby blinked up at him, feeling a distinct height disadvantage without her usual four-inch heels on her feet, her gown not long enough to accommodate them. His tone implied that he thought she was a stranger, but how was that possible? She had recognised him straight away—would recognise him blindfolded in a dark room just by the prickling awareness he set off inside her.

She didn’t know whether to be insulted or glad that he hadn’t recognised her in turn. Maybe both. It only seemed to confirm that the mutual connection she had believed was special between them the night they met hadn’t been special or mutual at all.

Something inside her chest plummeted just a little more. Her pride, no doubt, because what woman’s pride wouldn’t be dented when a man who had kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her now had no clue as to who she was just because of a silly costume?

Dismayed to have her worst fears confirmed, Ruby deliberately disguised her voice with a smoky edge. Let him try and pick her up, she thought with rising irritation. Let him try and use all his sophisticated charm on her and have her turn him down this time. She’d like nothing better than to see him dig a hole for himself and then reveal her identity at the last minute. It was no less than he deserved for not calling her when he’d promised that he would. And, yes, she knew she needed to get over that but she really hated when a man said one thing and did another. She’d experienced the disappointment of being let down by her father too often as a young girl to put up with it in her adult life.

‘Great outfit by the way. I’m thinking you’re—’

‘Don’t say Little Bo Peep,’ she warned menacingly.

Sam laughed softly. ‘If you were Little Bo Peep you’d have a staff. And sheep. Which might not work with those ducks earlier.’

‘Swans.’

‘Ducks, swans...feathered fowl who belong in a pond, not at a masquerade party.’ His dark eyes glittered with lazy male appreciation as he gazed at her. ‘Not without a mask at least.’

Ruby’s lips twitched and she quickly sipped the last of her wine. She was not going to find him charming this time around. She was not going to feel breathless with awareness, or tingly with anticipation. She was not going to remember the gentle way he had tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before he’d said goodnight to her two years ago. Or the way he had looked at her as if she amazed him. It had made him impossible to forget. Impossible to get over. And thinking like that was just asking for trouble.

‘So no nursery-rhyme jokes and no lame pick-up lines,’ he agreed. ‘Want to dance instead?’

‘I don’t dance with strangers,’ she mumbled, glancing furtively towards the dance floor in the hope that Molly was ready to go home. Of course, Molly was nowhere to be seen.

‘Stranger?’ He cocked his head. ‘That’s easy enough to remedy—’

‘No!’ Her eyes widened on his. She wasn’t ready to reveal who she was to him. She didn’t want to have an awkward conversation about the past. It wasn’t as if they were friends. They weren’t, and they never would be. Better if he just left her alone and was none the wiser as to who he was trying to hit on. ‘No names.’

‘No names?’ He gave her a curious look.

‘Half the fun of wearing a mask is being anonymous. Don’t you agree?’

‘This is my first masked ball. I’m new to the etiquette.’

‘Then allow me to educate you.’ Her voice dropped further to a husky purr. ‘Names aren’t necessary.’

‘Is that right?’ The lights dimmed around them as the music turned soft and sensual. Ruby’s heart thumped against her ribcage. She really needed to get away from him and the way he made her feel.

‘So if you don’t want to dance and you don’t want to trade names—’ his gaze drifted to her lips like a feather-light caress ‘—what do you want to do?’

Kiss you, she thought, her body already responding to his lingering look. I want to kiss you and never stop.

‘One dance.’ He gave her a slow smile as if he knew the appalling direction in which her mind had just taken her. ‘I’m harmless, I promise.’

‘I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise.’

The last thing Ruby wanted was to find herself in Sam’s arms again but he was so smooth he’d divested her of the two glasses she’d been clutching like a lifeline and had her there before she had time to blink.

Which only made her angry. What was it about this man that eroded her natural born caution? She didn’t want this and she certainly didn’t want him. Only, she knew she was lying to herself. There was something about Sam Ventura that got to her every single time and try as she might she couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

She risked a glance up into his eyes to find him watching her closely. Did she feel familiar in his arms? She was shorter without her heels on but...

Oh, get over yourself, Ruby Jane. He doesn’t know who you are so forget it. Have a laugh.

But she couldn’t have a laugh, not with his heat surrounding her and setting her pulse racing, not with his face so close to hers she could see the beginnings of his beard coming in, and not with his scent, spicy and masculine with a hint of sandalwood, short-circuiting her brain.

All she could do was remember the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips, slightly rough, his lips warm and firm against her own. It was like being sent back in time. She wanted to feel those lips again. She wanted to feel the power of his need again, his hunger for her. She’d never felt like that in a man’s arms before and it was nothing short of addictive.

No man forgets a woman he’s kissed before. At least he doesn’t if he has any integrity.

Did he remember kissing her? Would it come back to him if she was to reach up and kiss him now?

Inwardly shocked to realise where her thoughts were leading her, Ruby jerked back. Kissing Sam Ventura was the last thing she should be thinking of doing. This man was dangerous to her equilibrium. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name.

‘You okay, angel?’ He drew her closer as she stumbled, bending to murmur in her ear. Ruby’s breath caught as his warm breath skittered across the sensitive skin of her neck. That name—he’d called her angel two years ago as well...