The Last Virgin

“Kiss me again, Noah. No one’s ever made me feel that way.”

Sabrina stood on tiptoe and pressed the full length of her body to his.

He stood motionless, tormented.

Her breath whispered across his lips. Her mouth brushed his. Her tongue touched his lower lip.

With a moan, he swept his arms around her and claimed her mouth. He drank deeply of her sweetness, desire ripping through him as she moved against him. He skimmed his hands down her back then lower to cup her bottom.

She drew back, face flushed, lips round and tempting. Slowly she pulled the tie of her robe until it loosened. Arching her back, she parted her robe. “Touch me.”

Noah’s gaze riveted to her breasts. She was more beautiful than he’d imagined. He ached to touch her, to taste her. Closing his eyes, he set her on her feet.

“Sabrina, if I do, I won’t be able to stop.”

She leaned close to whisper in his ear, “Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

Dear Reader,

I can’t relate how excited I am to be a part of the new Blaze line! These books combine two of my favorite elements—a hot read and lots of romance. Thanks for joining us in the fun.

When I brainstormed this story, I got hooked on the irony of transforming a romantic virgin into a sexy seductress and a womanizing cynic into the defender of her virtue. On the night of her twenty-fifth birthday, Sabrina Walker feels like the last virgin on earth. When she learns it took a bimbo as a bribe for Noah Banks to take her to dinner, she decides to lose her virginity.

But after a night in his arms, Sabrina realizes that Noah may have claimed more than her body. Bent on proving that the disturbing emotions he stirs stem from the fact that he was her first, she heads to the beach in search of a weekend fling. Noah follows and spends the weekend staving off her would-be suitors.

Little does he know that one is married, one too young and none are as sexy as he. Can he maintain his role of knight in shining armor when Sabrina targets him for seduction?

I hope you enjoy this romantic journey as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Best wishes,

Dorie Graham

The Last Virgin

Dorie Graham

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to Larry, for loving me, inspiring me and supporting me through all the craziness.

Thanks for always believing in me.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

1

“NOAH, I’M DESPERATE!” Panic laced Mona Freeman’s voice.

Noah Banks swallowed in discomfort. His stomach tightened. Normally women spoke those words to him with a sultry breathlessness, something he felt more capable of handling.

He’d stepped into his partner, Cliff Walker’s office with nothing more on his mind than reviewing the day’s trading and their clients’ portfolios over their nightly shot of tequila. The last thing he’d expected was to walk in on a tiff between Cliff and his wife-to-be.

Noah’s gaze swung from Mona to Cliff. Cliff sat rigid behind his massive walnut desk. His expression reminded Noah of his own father facing off with his mother, back in the days when they tolerated being in the same room.

Mona lunged toward Noah and he stiffened. Her small hands clung to his arm, eliciting a sense of frustration. Why did he have this desire to help her, when he’d never been adept at defusing domestic squabbles?

Reluctantly, he placed his hand on hers. He was almost afraid to ask, given Cliff’s stormy expression. “What’s the trouble?”

“No!” Cliff burst from his chair, sending it listing at an odd angle. “I told you. He…” his finger shook as he pointed at his partner “…is not an option.”

Noah shot him a glare. What was up with Cliff? Though he had no idea what his partner was referring to, the words stung. Noah opened his mouth to protest, then shut it.

Cliff was right. Whatever it was, they could work it out without him. Cliff could take care of his own hysterical woman. Noah took a step toward the office door he’d unwittingly entered.

Mona swung along with him. “Cliff, Noah’s your best man, and our only hope.”

With a tight smile, Noah patted her stiff fingers. “I’ll come back later. Looks like you two need to work this out alone.”

“Oh, no.” Her eyes widened, turned pleading. “We need you.”

“No!” In an instant, Cliff stood before them, his dark hair sticking out at odd angles as though he’d literally tried to yank it from his scalp. “We’ll just have to tell her and let her get there on her own.”

“But, Cliff…” Mona’s bottom lip trembled. She blinked. “That will spoil it. I’ve been planning it for weeks. She has to arrive precisely at nine, or the whole surprise will be ruined. You know how much I have riding on this. She hates me and I need this party to win her over. I think she resents me for scheduling the wedding so close to her birthday. Oh, please.” Huge tears rolled down her cheeks. She let out a choking sob.

Noah intensified his hand patting. The tightness in his stomach rolled into a knot. What was it about a woman’s tears that made him go all soft inside? Damn it, he’d never been able to say no to a female in need. “Who has to get where?”

“S-S-Sabrina.” Mona sniffed. “She has to get to her surprise birthday p-party.”

“Sabrina?” Noah asked, unable to place the name.

“C-Cliff’s sister.”

Noah glanced at Cliff where he stood rigid and sullen. He’d mentioned a sister when they’d been at Auburn five years ago, but Noah had never met her.

“That’s it? That’s what all these waterworks are about?” Women were such emotional creatures. He swung his gaze from Mona’s tear-streaked face to Cliff’s stony expression. “You just need someone to play chauffeur?”

“It would mean the world to me to win her over. I think this might do it.” Tears still glistened in Mona’s eyes as she stared up at him, but a grateful glow lit their blue depths. “You can’t let on about the party.”

She let go of his arm to move beside Cliff. “Cliff will help you work out the details.” She tilted her face up to her fiancé. “Okay?”

“No.” His voice had lost some of its earlier vehemence.

Her fingertips traced his cheek. She brushed her body against his. “For me?”

He shut his eyes for a moment, then scooped his arm around her in surrender. “I really don’t like this.”

With a happy squeal, she threw her arms around him. “I love you. They’ll be in a public place. Then we’ll all be there to chaperone. It’ll be fine.”

She placed a fat kiss on his lips, then broke away to find her purse, her tears reduced to an occasional sniffle. “I’ve got to go see about the flowers for the wedding. You explain to Noah.” She swept from the room.

Noah turned to Cliff with a grin. Now that the disturbance had passed, the tension in him eased. “That’s showing her.”

Cliff shook his shaggy head. “You have no idea.” He turned to stalk back to his desk. He lifted a legal pad, then slammed it onto the blotter. “I’d never agree to this if it wasn’t a last resort.”

“It’s six o’clock. Time for a shot.” Noah ignored Cliff’s comment and brought the conversation back to his original purpose for coming to Cliff’s office. He moved to a cabinet behind the desk and lifted two shot glasses from a shelf.

The six o’clock shot was a ritual they’d started during their college sophomore year. It was a time-honored tradition Noah had inherited from his father, who’d adopted the custom after a week in Mexico with his college buddies. During that trip, his dad had developed a lasting taste for José Cuervo tequila, and now it was the only brand used for the ritual.

Noah handed Cliff one of the glasses. Cliff set it on the desk, then retrieved a bottle from a low drawer. He splashed golden liquid into the two glasses.

“Thanks.” Noah raised his glass in a toast, while Cliff followed suit. “Here’s to work. Here’s to pleasure. Foster both in equal measure.”

Noah tossed back the drink in one gulp. He set down the empty glass, then paced to the far window to look out over Atlanta’s downtown skyline. The sun slanted low, casting long shadows across the rooftops. Six floors below, a long line of cars snaked through the street.

He turned back to Cliff. “So, I finally get to meet your sister.”

Scowling, Cliff stabbed his finger across the room at him. “Get her to her surprise party, but keep your hands to yourself! She’s a nice girl.”

Annoyed, Noah narrowed his eyes. “What are you all tense about? I haven’t got any designs on your sister. I’ve never even met her, I might add, which seems a little strange. I can see when we were at Auburn, but we worked together here for years before I moved to Denver. I’ve been back all these weeks, she lives in Atlanta, and I still haven’t met her. Why not?”

Cliff gaped at him. “I just told you. She’s a nice girl. I didn’t want her exposed to your…your personal habits. Believe me, I’ve tried everyone for this party. No one else is available.”

“Personal habits? I was thinking along the lines of a simple introduction, not a roommate situation.” Noah tilted his head, his aggravation with Cliff growing. “What’s wrong with my personal habits?”

With a sound of exasperation, Cliff gestured with his hand. “Blondes on Monday, brunettes on Thursday and redheads for the weekend. Sabrina’s not like that. She’s the romantic type, believes in love and happily-ever-after. I don’t want you corrupting her.”

Noah scowled. “I resent that. Just because I enjoy women doesn’t mean I’d pounce on your sister.” He twisted the blind pull. Atlanta’s skyline disappeared.

“Just get her to the party, none of your funny business or…or you and I are gonna go at it!”

“Go at it?” Noah chuckled. He had a hard time taking Cliff seriously with his hair mimicking electrotherapy. “You’re making too much of this. I can control myself. Besides, I haven’t said I’d do it.”

“Of course you’ll do it. You have to. And you will control yourself.” He blew out a breath. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. I’ve got that trip to Boca for the Shoreland quarterly portfolio review.

“You heard Mona. She hired caterers. She’s going all out. For some reason she has the silly idea that Sabrina doesn’t like her.”

All this to please a woman. Cliff had lost it. Noah squeezed his eyes shut. At the age of thirty, he’d learned the hard way there was no pleasing women—at least not in that sense.

Two years ago, he’d left his partnership with Cliff to follow Rebecca to Colorado. He’d given her everything—his time, his money, even offered her his name. Thank God she’d refused the last. No matter what he offered, it hadn’t been enough. He’d left that relationship without any illusions. It had almost cost him his career.

Cliff would have to learn that lesson for himself, but how could Noah get out of pinch-hitting for his partner?

He turned to Cliff. “You can take your sister to her party. I’ll go to Boca for you. Old lady Shoreland likes me.”

“No way. Her granddaughter’s visiting with her fiancé, not that that would stop you.”

“Wait a minute. I am not the sleaze you make me out to be. I’ve never stolen another man’s woman.”

“No, you’ve never had to. For some reason women flock to you. It’s disgusting.”

With a grunt, Noah moved to the desk. “Not all of them.”

“Oh?” Cliff turned, his brows raised. “You mean one of them hasn’t fallen swooning into your arms?”

“That blonde on the fourth floor. I think she’s with the insurance agency.” He shrugged. “She’s been a little elusive.”

A smile spread across Cliff’s face. “Darcy. I had lunch with her yesterday. We kind of dated in high school.” He cleared his throat. “Of course, I’ve got Mona now. I mean, it was just lunch. There she was alone in that big booth—”

“You put moves on her?” Noah stared, surprised. Cliff’s cheeks resembled a red light district. Good old Cliff had been lunching with Noah’s pick of the month? How could that be?

“No! No, nothing like that. Darcy’s more your speed. She…well, kind of got around in high school. Of course, people change….”

Noah perked at the news. Darcy sounded like what he needed—a nice unencumbered relationship. After the disaster with Rebecca, he didn’t think he’d ever want anything else from a woman. “I can work with that.”

With his hands jammed into his pockets, Cliff faced his partner. “Look, are you going to help me, or what?”

Noah pulled his mind from Darcy’s long legs and bountiful curves. He’d rather spend Friday night with her than with a “nice” girl. “Can’t you find someone else?”

“There isn’t anyone else! I wouldn’t have asked you if someone else was available.”

With a frown, Noah scooped the legal pad off the desk. He scanned the page-long list of scratched-off names. “You asked Fred, the mail guy?”

“I told you I was desperate.”

Noah tapped the pad. “My name isn’t even on here.”

Cliff glared at him. “Okay, what will it take? How much?”

“What? You’re bribing me now?” A chuckle rose from Noah’s throat. “No go. You couldn’t pay me enough.”

“Darcy!” Cliff’s eyes widened. He moved toward Noah. “That’s it. You take Sabrina to dinner, then get her to the party. I’ll put in a good word for you with Darcy. I’ll even invite her to the party.”

Visions of Darcy’s full bosom and rounded backside flashed through Noah’s mind. Anticipation raced through him. How bad could one dinner with Cliff’s sister be? Besides, he had lost most of his client base with the move, and Cliff was giving him a chance to rebuild his career. He owed his old roommate.

After another moment’s hesitation, Noah thrust out his hand. “Deal.”

Relief flowed over Cliff’s face. Even his hair seemed to relax. He clasped Noah’s hand. “Deal. You take Sabrina to dinner, then bring her by the house. My flight gets in around ten, but Mona wants you two there at nine sharp. I’ll tell Sabrina Mona’s going to Boca with me and we won’t be back until Sunday. You can say you’re feeding the dog.”

“Dog?” Noah narrowed his gaze. “That German shepherd wannabe who hates men?”

Cliff blinked. “Opal is part shepherd, and she doesn’t hate all men. She’s gotten used to me. She’s just protective of Mona. Anyway, you won’t have to deal with her.”

“Right.” With a nod, Noah moved toward the door.

“Wait.”

Noah stopped, then turned back toward his partner. Cliff paused, staring hard at him. “There’s something else you need to know about Sabrina. She isn’t the kind of woman you’re accustomed to.”

“Right. You already told me. She’s the romantic type. Don’t worry, I’ll take her someplace nice.”

“Good.” Cliff’s jaw bunched. “But that isn’t what I’m getting at.”

Noah drew an impatient breath. “So what are you saying?”

A cool warning slipped into Cliff’s gaze. “I’m saying…she’s a virgin. And I want her to stay that way.”

SABRINA WALKER GROANED. She yanked the wall calendar from its place beside an old fuse box and stared at the big squares representing the days of the week, zeroing in on the upcoming Friday. The thirteenth. This Friday was the thirteenth. What kind of day was that to have a birthday?

“This is a bad omen, Walker,” she murmured to herself. “A very bad omen.” The depression that had hovered over her for months descended. Everyone she knew was engaged or married and working on the second or third child.

Everyone but her.

She plopped into the rickety desk chair she’d picked up secondhand to go with the metal desk she’d inherited when she bought this bookstore four years ago. After a minute of searching through the pile of catalogs and order sheets on her desk, she unearthed the phone. She punched in a number, then waited through three rings.

“Hello?” Bess Anderson, her best friend, answered.

“Life is passing me by, Bess.”

“Sabrina?”

“I know I vowed at sixteen to wait for The One, but I thought I’d find love by now.” Sabrina twisted the phone cord around her finger. “I’m in a rut. I’m sitting here and nothing is going on in my life. There’s no one to greet me at the end of the day.” She swallowed. “No hope of having a child.”

“Aw, Bree…you can borrow one of mine, or how about all three?” One of Bess’s daughters shrieked in the background. “Excuse me a minute.” The phone made a clunking sound, then Bess yelled for her offspring to quiet. “Sorry,” she said as she came back on the line.

Sabrina’s finger purpled. “All I need is a jump start.”

“Tom has this new guy working for him—”

“I’m seriously thinking of going for it—”

“Really? Great, we’ll have you both over—”

“Popping the cork, losing the old cherry—”

“What?”

“Maybe it’s time I lost my virginity. Had a fling. Walked on the wild side.” Sabrina squared her jaw. Saying the words out loud sent a wave of satisfaction coursing through her. She pulled her finger free, shaking the blood back into it.

“Now, hon, who is he? You’re not going to do anything hasty, are you?”

Sabrina laughed. “I’ve been celibate for nearly twenty-five years. What’s hasty about that?”

“You know what I mean. Who is he? Do you love him? Why haven’t—”

“I don’t know who he is, or will be. The way I feel, the next available male I come across might get lucky.”

“Sabrina?” Toby Baxter, a high school student she’d hired to work afternoons, poked his head around the office door. “Could you cover the front? I’ve got to take a leak.”

“Sure, Toby. Just a minute.”

He smiled his thanks, then withdrew.

Grimacing, Sabrina turned back to the phone. “Okay, well, maybe the next available male.”

“Look, Sabri—”

“I’ve gotta go. Thanks for helping sort this out, Bess.”

“Wait, don’t—”

She hung up. Nothing Bess could say would change her mind. Besides, Bess was no paragon of knowledge. Look at the mess she’d made of her own life. Sabrina sighed and shook her head.

Poor Bess. At sixteen, they’d cried together when she discovered she’d gotten pregnant by Tommy Anderson, her first “real” boyfriend. To Sabrina’s horror, Bess, with her runway model looks, tossed aside her future in high couture to marry Tom and have his baby.

Nine years and three children later, Bess was still stuck in Atlanta, still stuck with Tom. Sabrina’s heart twisted. Sure Bess loved her kids, but what a life she could have had. How many nights had they stayed up planning her career as a high fashion model, her New York apartment and her picture on the cover of Vogue?

Sabrina stood. For herself, all she’d ever wanted was a career, a husband who loved and appreciated her, and children. Professionally, she was doing exactly what she wanted, but her personal life was lacking. Sure, she’d dated, always on the search for The One. Bess’s tragedy had taught her not to settle for less. Unfortunately, it never took long to realize when a man wasn’t The One, so her relationships tended to fizzle before developing into anything serious.

With one last glare at the calendar, she pushed away from her desk. Friday the thirteenth! Of all the days to have a birthday!

She paused at her office door. She needed to do something to get out of her funk. Closing her eyes, she imagined herself basking in the sun along crystal-white sand. That was it! She’d go to her favorite resort in Destin, Florida, and treat herself to her own birthday celebration.

As she pushed through into the shop, her mind raced with the list of things she had to do to prepare for the trip—make sure the store was covered, call the resort and schedule her flight. With luck, she’d have everything set by the end of the day.

The resolve firm in her mind, she went to relieve Toby. The front door of the shop stood open, catching the May breeze. Sunlight flooded the row of floor-to-ceiling windows that graced the shop’s front. Plants hung in baskets near the windows, and topped the many bookcases, lending a cool touch of green. The brassy strains of jazz drifted from overhead speakers.

With a sound of relief, Toby raced for the back room, leaving the small bookstore empty, except for Sabrina and Libby Conrad, one of their regulars. A flowered scarf held Libby’s dyed red curls back from her face. She stretched to reach a high shelf in one of the many bookcases.

“Need help?” Sabrina asked.

With a wave of her hand, the older woman dismissed her. “Don’t mind me, dear. I’m fine. I know you’ve got work to do.”

Sabrina smiled a small smile. She was so distracted right now, she’d hate to inadvertently snap at the dear woman. Picking up a watering can from behind the counter, Sabrina went to work on a basket of Creeping Charley. Caring for her plants usually calmed her.

Libby seldom bought or traded books. Mostly she browsed and chatted with other customers. Though Sabrina had grown fond of the elderly woman, she sometimes wondered if Libby was becoming senile. She often talked non-stop, wavering in and out of a long-ago past.

Done watering, Sabrina pulled out her customer request notebook to check it against her recent book shipment. She still carried a generous assortment of new product, though with all the mega-booksellers moving into the area, she’d expanded her used section. She needed an edge that allowed her to compete. Cliff had been appalled when she’d told him she was veering in that direction, but otherwise, she wouldn’t last long against that kind of competition. So far, her strategy had paid off.

Toby emerged from the back, heading for a carton of used books on the counter. “I’ve logged these already,” he said, scooping up an armload. “Some of this old stuff is rad.” He hummed something Sabrina didn’t recognize as he disappeared down a book-lined aisle.

Libby made a sudden beeline for the counter.

Sabrina braced herself.

“Has Henry called for me?”

Sighing, Sabrina mustered a smile. “No, Libby. I’m sorry, but no one’s called for you.”

The woman’s hopeful expression sagged. “Well, he will. He promised,” she said in her usual raspy voice.

Sabrina squeezed the woman’s hand. Without fail, they played out this scenario whenever she came to the shop. Normally, Sabrina controlled the inevitable tug on her emotions. Today, however, her heart lurched and her eyes stung. What had happened to Libby’s Henry?

“Yes,” her voice caught. “He will.” She blinked back embarrassing tears. This ridiculous birthday disaster had her tied up in knots.

Libby shook her gnarled finger. “He’s an incredible lover, you know.”

Sabrina straightened. This wasn’t part of the routine. “I’m…I’m sure he is.”

“Has all the right moves.”

“How…how nice for you.”

“He plays his harmonica,” she rasped, “and I do this dance. I’ll show you.”

“That’s not necessary.” Sabrina glanced around. No other customers had come in and Toby was probably lost in the bowels of the sci-fi area. “I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble.”

“Oh, yes, dear. You must learn, so you can try it on your own young man.” She threw her hands in the air and swiveled in what she must have meant to be a seductive motion. The music curled around them. “Gets ’em in the mood, you know.”

Not sure how to handle her, Sabrina cleared her throat, then came around the counter, and reached futilely toward the woman. “I don’t…I don’t have a young man.”