A Virgin For The Taking

She swallowed as he reached out a hand between them, her eyes wide like a startled doe’s, fearful and uncertain. He put his fingers to the pearl choker at her throat, lifting it gently from her satin smooth skin, feeling the pearl’s warmth where it had lain against her flesh.

‘And is this one of yours, too?’

She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move, as a fear she hadn’t felt in a long time resurfaced, threatening to swamp her. Danger, she recognised. The man meant danger. He was way too close, way too imposing and when he’d reached out a hand she’d thought—Oh, Lord, just the way he’d been watching her breasts had felt like the graze of a man’s hand. And if his gaze could be that powerful…If he’d reached out to touch her there…

But instead he’d picked up her choker, the trace of his fingertips against her throat a tingling trail, searingly heated, shockingly intimate. She shuddered under his touch, a rush of realisation, some sixth sense alerting her that this danger was like nothing she’d known before. This brand of danger was more potent, more powerful and much more magnetic.

‘It’s beautiful,’ he said, his voice husky and low and further tugging on her senses as he examined the piece. ‘Just like its wearer.’ His eyes lifted till they met hers. ‘Did you design it?’

Breath rushed into the vacuum of her lungs. But she couldn’t let herself reflect on what he’d just said, even though his rich dark eyes seemed intent on making her forget everything else. She had to concentrate on the necklace—and on what he’d asked.

It shouldn’t be so hard, not to talk about one of her favourite pieces. Suspended on a band of nitrite, the single gem was held in place by an intricate coil of gold. The pearl, a magnificent eighteen-millimetre perfect round, had been a gift from Laurence following the success of their first collection. It had seemed appropriate that she should wear it today.

‘I made it,’ she admitted at last, reaching up to her neck instinctively, only to encounter his hand still cradling the piece. For a second their fingers brushed and lingered—and she saw something fleeting skid across his eyes, a spark, a surge of flame, and a corresponding heat pooled low in her belly.

‘That’s some pearl,’ he murmured without letting go, his eyes now on her lips and not on the pearl at all. But there was no time to consider why that should be so, not with his mouth hovering near, the subtle tugging pressure he was exerting on her choker drawing her closer.

She swallowed, tried to make her mouth work, her senses filled with the scent of him, warm and woody and wanting her.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, already imagining the taste of his lips on hers, already liking it. ‘Laurence gave it to me.’

He blinked, his eyes changing from caramel warm to granite cold in an instant. Then he dropped the choker and straightened.

‘No doubt you made it worth his while.’

The mood shattered, with her thoughts in total disarray. This time when her fingers found her pearl they circled the precious gem like it was a talisman, praying for it to give her strength. But she would need more than a pearl if she intended to keep this man at bay.

So she gathered her thoughts and bit back, ‘Oh, yes. I’d certainly like to think so.’

Anger lit the eyes filled so recently with desire. Anger and disgust.

‘Tell me it’s not true,’ he demanded. ‘Tell me you didn’t sleep with my father.’

She stared up at him and allowed herself a half-smile. So he wasn’t disgusted with her? He was disgusted with himself, disgusted that he could be attracted to someone his father had slept with. Maybe Laurence’s gift would protect her after all, because as long as Zane saw her as the pearl master’s mistress, she would be safe from him. And, more importantly, she would be safe from her own quavering resistance.

‘I don’t have to tell you anything! It’s none of your business.’ She moved to go around him and return to her desk, but his hands grabbed hold of her shoulders, dragging her in, imprisoning her close to him.

‘Did you?’

She looked down at his hands. ‘I’m surprised you can even bear to touch me.’ Then she focused her gaze until it was needle sharp and hitched one eyebrow provocatively. ‘Or are you merely intent on ensuring you inherit all your father’s assets?’

She didn’t wait for his response. She shrugged off his hands and marched to the desk, collecting up her designs and plans. ‘Excuse me, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have work to do. And then I’m going home—to pack.’

‘Why? Where are you going?’

‘I don’t know,’ she admitted halfway across the room. ‘But it’s going to be bad enough working with you until the launch. There’s just no way I can stomach the thought of living with you, as well.’

‘What do you mean,’ he called out behind her, ‘“until the launch”?’

She dragged in a breath and slowly swivelled around, sending up a silent apology to Laurence as she did so. But it wasn’t so much that she wouldn’t honour his deathbed request, she told herself, she was merely putting a time limit on it.

‘I’m giving my notice, Zane. I’ll stay until the launch of the new collection. I’ll finish what I have to do. But then you won’t have to put up with me any more. I’ll be leaving Broome—for good.’

CHAPTER FOUR

LAURENCE HAD CLEARLY had other ideas. A few days later both Ruby and Zane sat dumbfounded in Laurence’s former office as his executor explained the terms of his will.

‘I don’t understand,’ Ruby said uncertainly. But it wasn’t that she hadn’t heard the lawyer the first time; it was just that it made no sense.

Derek Finlayson breathed an apologetic sigh. ‘I realise it’s a lot to take in right now, but basically what it comes down to is that you and Zane have been bequeathed equal shares in ninety per cent of the Bastiani Pearl Corporation. As of now you each control forty-five per cent of the business.’

‘But…’ She looked around for help, but Zane wasn’t giving any. He sat, rigid and fixed, his face a tight mask. ‘But I don’t want it.’

Zane swung his head around, the disbelief in his features reading like an accusation.

She shook her head. Nothing made sense. Just last weekend she’d moved her things out of the house and into a cabin at the Cable Beach Resort. It was five-star luxury all the way, but that wasn’t the reason she’d chosen it. It was because it was about as far away as she could possibly get from Zane. And she’d figured it would only be for the short term. Already she had some interviews lined up with jewellery manufacturers in Sydney. In the past few years, she’d made herself a solid reputation with the Bastiani Corporation. The successful launch of the Passion Collection would seal it. If all went well, she’d be on her way out of Broome in just a matter of months.

But if she stayed…

She couldn’t let herself think about what that would be like. Right now she knew she’d be gone from Zane and his poisoned atmosphere in less than three months. She couldn’t bear to think about what it would be like to have to survive any longer than that.

‘I don’t want it,’ she insisted, her throat squeezed tight. ‘I don’t understand why Laurence would have done this at all. In fact, I’ve already started making arrangements to leave Broome for good. I have job prospects. I won’t even be here—’

The solicitor removed his glasses and rubbed the crinkled bridge of his nose and looked like he was about to say something, before he stopped suddenly, as if thinking better of it. Instead, he gave a measured sigh and replaced the glasses, peering intently through them down the long sweep of his nose at her. ‘Clearly, under the terms of the will,’ he started, his words delivered slowly for more effect, ‘Laurence expected you to remain here in Broome to co-manage the corporation with Zane. Maybe you might want to take a moment to reconsider your position? The remaining ten per cent of the business will be apportioned among the employees and house staff based on length of service to the company. They will need the business run profitably for their benefit, as well.’

‘Let her go,’ Zane interrupted. ‘She doesn’t want to stay! I’ll buy her out.’

Derek Finlayson blinked and directed his grey steely gaze towards Zane. ‘I understand your distress, Mr Bastiani, but it’s your father’s wishes that I’m concerned with right now. Laurence clearly wished for both you and Miss Clemenger to manage the business for the benefit of all the stakeholders. But, after all, it’s been Miss Clemenger who’s been working alongside Laurence for several years now. Right now she would be more familiar with the actual business. It’s crucial she stays, you must see that.’

‘I haven’t exactly been sitting on my hands, myself. I have businesses of my own to take care of in London.’

‘Your father provided for that,’ said the lawyer, riffling through his notes, letting the acid in Zane’s comment slide by. ‘Ah, yes, here it is. You’ll have whatever time you need to return to London and do a handover. I can run you through the details later.

‘Now, Miss Clemenger,’ he continued, ‘Laurence clearly knew how you felt about looking after the business and the employees. And he trusted you to champion those rights and to carry on his vision—to keep the Bastiani Corporation at the forefront of the industry in both pearl design and innovation. He trusted you to look after the company’s profitability for not only your benefit, but for theirs, as well. Is there anything else I can say that will help convince you?’

‘But if she doesn’t want to stay—’

‘No!’ Ruby wheeled her head around, blue eyes clashing with seething brown. ‘Mr Finlayson is right. Laurence wanted this. He wanted me to stay. I’m not about to walk away from my responsibility to the business or to the employees. And there’s just no way I’m going to let Laurence down!’

Derek Finlayson’s lips pulled into an unfamiliar smile as he pounded the table with his fist. ‘That’s the ticket! Laurence would be proud of you, my dear. As for you, Zane, how long do you think you’ll need to hand over your businesses? That is…’ He regarded him through shrewd eyes, his eyebrows arched ‘…if you do intend to return to Broome to co-manage the business?’

‘Oh, I’ll be back,’ he said, looking at Ruby, his hostile eyes incinerating the air between them. ‘Make no mistake about that.’

‘How did you manage that?’

The lawyer had gone, the room was empty of everyone except her and Zane, yet the atmosphere still felt too crowded, too thick with tension, too thunderous with his snapped words.

Her mind a whirl, Ruby barely registered his question over her own panicked second thoughts. She was trapped. She’d been so close to walking away, just twelve short weeks away from being free, and now she was locked into the Bastiani Corporation, effectively shackled to a man she despised. Shackled by pearls. Had Laurence had any concept of what he’d done to her?

“Look after Zane,” his father had begged. She wanted to laugh. From what she’d seen, Zane needed nobody to look after him. But she’d look after the company, she had no problem with that. But as for Zane, Zane could look after himself.

‘What an extraordinary coup.’

‘What do you mean?’ She responded absently as his words finally filtered through, more intrigued right now that he saw things so differently to her. Why on earth would he think this was what she wanted? The concept that she was now suddenly worth a very large fortune, in addition to what her own family connections provided her with, was no compensation for her growing fears.

Laurence had done her no favours.

This was no beneficial bequest.

This was a sentence.

‘It’s not like you’re family. You’re merely an employee. So how did you manage to convince my father to leave you forty-five per cent of the company?’

She dragged her eyes away from the bookshelves she’d been staring through and looked up at him, trying to blink away her confusion.

‘I did nothing to “convince” him. I had no idea your father decided to frame his will that way. Why would I?’

‘No idea?’ He snorted his disbelief. ‘You lived with him and you make out you didn’t know? Surely you can understand that’s just a little difficult to believe.’

She shook her head. ‘Of course I didn’t know! I told you I was resigning. You knew I was leaving. Why would I have made those plans if I’d known anything about Laurence’s bequest?’

‘Don’t play the innocent. You never had any intention of leaving! Not while you had a chance of benefiting in my father’s will. Saying you’d stay till the launch safely covered you there.’

She sighed, raising both her hands to the ceiling. What was the point of trying to convince him? What did it matter what he thought? ‘It doesn’t matter what you believe,’ she acceded. ‘The fact is, Laurence has given me no choice. I have no option but to stay.’

He laughed, harsh and bitter, seizing on her admission. ‘Funny how quickly a few hundred million dollars can make you change your tune. Of course,’ he mocked, disbelief dripping from his words, ‘we know it’s not really the money.’

‘I don’t care about the money! Not for me. But if I leave, what happens to the employees? You’ll be gone for how long? Who would manage the company? How is that going to carry on Laurence’s vision? I can’t do that to people I worked with, that Laurence wanted to be looked after. I can’t do that to people like Kyoto, after all his years of service.’

‘You’ll stay for the sake of the employees? How noble of you.’ He leaned up close. ‘Pardon me if I don’t believe there isn’t just a smattering of self-interest involved.’

‘No pardon necessary,’ she hissed back. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to believe anything, let alone the truth. You’ve shown a marked absence of that ability ever since you arrived back in Broome.’

‘And you’ve shown a remarkable inability to admit to the truth! Why do you pretend to be something you’re not? Why do you pretend not to understand what is so obvious to everyone else?’

She put her hands on her hips. Damn the man for his constant slurs and sordid innuendoes. ‘So what is it that’s so obvious to everyone else, Zane? What exactly do you mean? Maybe you should get it right off your chest.’

‘You need it spelt out? Okay! Why the hell would my father leave you such a huge share of the company? Forty-five per cent! You’ve already admitted my father was special to you. So why would he leave you a fortune if you weren’t something very much more than special?’

A rush of blood surged and crashed in her ears, urging her to fight.

‘You’re saying your father settled a fortune on me for living with him—for being his mistress. Is that right?’

‘Got it in one.’

‘Why is it with you that everything has to come down to sex?’

‘Doesn’t it?’

She wanted to disagree, but then, wasn’t this exactly what she wanted him to think? If he hated her for sleeping with his father, then he wouldn’t want to touch her, and if he didn’t touch her, then she’d have a chance of resisting this bizarre magnetism of his, she’d have a chance of not falling victim to his power.

So instead of giving in to the inciting jungle beat of her heart and lashing back a reply in the negative, she embarked on a different course. Arching one eyebrow provocatively, she pasted on a sultry smile and pushed her chest out conspicuously. He liked her breasts, he’d already made that more than clear. And then, as if on cue, his eyes followed the movements of her bustline, his gaze hot and hungry, and her smile widened. She knew she was baiting him, but it was no more than he deserved. He’d already made his mind up about her and it suited her purposes. Why not go with his prejudices? Why not play them for all they were worth?

‘Well, you’ve sure got me there, Zane,’ she said, her voice intentionally husky as she ran one hand slowly down the curve of her hip. ‘You know damn well I was special to him. Obviously our relationship meant a lot more to him than I realised. I never expected him to be quite so generous in return.’

The scarlet hue to his skin deepened as his throat corded and kicked out a pulse.

‘You know,’ she said in mock understanding, placing a flirty finger along her cheek as her tactics bore such luscious fruit. ‘I know what your problem is. I suspect maybe I was even more special to him than his own son. That’s what really gets your back up, isn’t it Zane? He loved me, and not you. That’s what you can’t abide. That’s why you hate me so much, isn’t it?’

He propelled himself a step closer, his movements charged with super-anger, his features contorted with rage, and Ruby’s heart skipped a beat. Why was he so angry when she was merely agreeing with whatever tawdry views of her he already held? His enraged features told her she’d more than made her mark—she’d gone too far!

‘Zane…’ she uttered, taking an instinctive step backwards as he powered closer. ‘I didn’t mean—’

The pulse in his brow hammered visibly, his eyes wild with turmoil, and whatever she’d been going to say was forgotten in the broiling atmosphere.

‘Of course he loved you more than he loved me. Why wouldn’t he want to?’ he said, his voice strangely soft, at odds with his entire posture. He reached out a hand and she could see the tension in his corded muscles, his tight skin. She flinched, but his hand moved to one side, to touch her hair, to softly curl a loose strand around his finger, to curve the back of his hand over her cheek as his eyes travelled over her face, burning a trail down to her shoulders, her bustline. Then lower….

She swallowed. ‘No,’ she whispered, sensing the danger had shifted gears and taken a new direction—a new direction that had her body humming with interest instead of shrinking away in fear. She licked her lips, her breathing suddenly shallow and unreliable as if he’d burned up the oxygen between them. ‘I didn’t mean that. I was wrong—’

He hushed her mouth with a finger from his other hand, stopping her words and her breath in the same instant. His scent wound its way into her, his taste leached into her recently moistened lips and his touch was so tender. So tender when he should be so angry.

She didn’t want him to be tender. She wanted him angry. Angry was consistent. Angry she could deal with. But this sudden tenderness…

Somehow this was infinitely more dangerous.

‘You were right,’ he admitted at last, dropping the hand at her mouth to skim down her throat and over the fullness of her breasts like an electric charge that made her gasp involuntarily as it scorched a trail all the way down. ‘You obviously gave him something I never could. But I have to ask myself one question. For a forty-five per cent share in the company, for something like two hundred million dollars—’

He hesitated, his face just a hair’s breadth away from her, his pause like a vacuum between them while his heated gaze continued to read her eyes, to caress her lips, as brazen as a torch brand on her flesh while the gentle pressure on her hair kept her close. And then his head tilted as his lips curled up into a thin, contemptible smile.

‘Well, it sure begs the question—just how good are you in bed?’

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