Susanne James - Undressed by the Billionaire

Gradually she relaxed, hopefully seeing the sense behind his years of doing battle with the press. ‘Thank goodness my parents are away,’ she said, confirming this.

She looked so grateful it drove home the message that Savannah came from a strong and loving family. He couldn’t shake a lingering sense of loss for something he’d never had. But her desire to go out and slay dragons soon distracted him. The expression on her face was so appealing.

It took Savannah a moment to realise Ethan was laughing. It was the first time she’d heard him laugh, without it being an ugly or mocking sound. ‘What’s so funny?’

He shook his head, unable to speak for a moment. ‘The infamous hard man and his teenage songbird?’ he managed at last. ‘They make us sound like something out of a novel.’

‘And I’m not a teenager,’ Savannah pointed out. ‘I was twenty last week.’

‘Twenty?’ Ethan’s face stilled. ‘As old as that?’

‘Well, I’m not some teenage tweety-pie, if that’s what you think—and I think we should sue them,’ she said seriously, which only made him start laughing again.

‘You can if you like,’ Ethan suggested between bouts of laughter.

Using magic beans to pay the lawyers, presumably. But as she had a leading role in this mess she was determined to do something about it.

‘From my point of view.’

‘Yes?’ Savannah stared intently at Ethan, ready to jump into armour and fight at his side at the first sign he was preparing to take on the press.

‘I think you should ignore it, as I will. Unless—’ he held up his hands when she was about to leap in ‘—they become a nuisance, in which case I shall act.’

That was just so disappointing. She didn’t want to sit back and have rubbish thrown at her. She was about to challenge Ethan’s decision when a knock came at the door and her bags from the stadium arrived.

‘I haven’t let you down yet, have I?’ Ethan demanded as she checked them over. ‘And I’m not about to start now. And where this newspaper rubbish is concerned you’ll just have to try something new.’

‘Such as?’ Lifting her head, she stared at him.

‘You could try trusting me.’

‘But we’re trapped here,’ she pointed out.

‘Yes, in this terrible place,’ Ethan mocked gently. ‘Poor us.’

He only had to say this for warning darts of fire to attack every part of her, and each tiny arrow carried a subtle message. She wanted him, but confronted by Ethan’s worldiness, and by the thought of staying under his roof, she grabbed the edges of her robe and tugged it firmly shut. ‘Haven’t they’ve got anything better to do than speculate about us?’

‘They’re only doing their job,’ Ethan pointed out. ‘We’re newsworthy. You. Me. Both of us together. Now that’s a real story.’

‘But this isn’t a real story. They’ve twisted the truth and made innocent photographs seem so …’

‘Suggestive?’

She hadn’t wanted to say that, and when Ethan looked at her a certain way she wished she hadn’t. Prior to this she had been sure Ethan thought of her as a ward beneath his protection, and the thought that he was now looking at her as a woman was unsettling. It might be everything she had ever dreamed of, but as fantasy hurtled towards reality at breakneck pace she lost her nerve. Getting up, she assured him, ‘Well, don’t worry, if I do have to stay here for any length of time, I’ll keep right out of your way.’

‘How very thoughtful of you,’ Ethan murmured. ‘Tea?’ he proposed. ‘Hot and sweet, perhaps?’ he added under his breath. ‘It’s good for shock.’ He reached for the phone to call the kitchen.

Shock? He thought she was in shock? She probably was in shock after seeing the news bulletin, Savannah conceded. But tea? She didn’t want tea. ‘I think I need something stronger than that.’

Ethan held the phone away from his ear. ‘Espresso?’

His face was poker straight, but his eyes were laughing at her. This humorous side of him—so unsuspected, so attractive—was unbelievably seductive. And terrifying. She had no idea how to handle a man—any man—let alone a man like Ethan. The situation was rapidly spiral-ling out of control. ‘Gin and tonic, please,’ she said firmly, thinking it might help. ‘A large one.’

For a moment she thought Ethan might refuse, but then he crossed the room to the wet bar where he mixed a drink. At last he was treating her like someone over the age of consent.

‘Here you are,’ he said pleasantly, handing her the glass. ‘I hope I got the balance right?’

She took a large swig in a pathetic attempt to maintain a confident image—and choked. Worse than choked she wheezed and choked, whilst waving her hands frantically in the air as fire consumed her gullet.

‘So, you’re a virgin,’ he said with amusement.

She was aghast that he could tell. ‘How did you know?’

Holding the crystal tumbler aloft, he stared into the clear liquid. ‘You can’t drink a decent measure of alcohol without …’ His voice tailed away as he looked at her. ‘Oh, I see. We’re not talking about the same thing, are we? Well, are we, Savannah?’ Ethan pressed, and, far from being humorous now, his expression was grim.

She couldn’t answer. Her throat had seized up with embarrassment. In the silence that followed everything Ethan had ever thought about her seemed to grow in her mind to grotesque proportions. She was too young for him, too inexperienced, too naïve, and whatever hopes she’d ever had about them ever being together had just turned into dust. But that didn’t stop her wanting him, it just pushed him further away, because Ethan was so principled he would never even think of making love to her, believing her innocence was under his charge.

A virgin? A virgin! Ethan recoiled inwardly. This made the situation so much worse. How much worse he could hardly quantify in thought, let alone words. Savannah was only here to enjoy his protection, yet until a minute ago he had arrogantly contemplated seducing her. She was still so young, and his first thought must always be to protect her. He had to hang onto that thought now if he was to save her from the greatest danger of all, which was him—the very man who was supposed to be taking care of her.

‘Ethan, please don’t be angry with me,’ she begged him as he made for the door.

‘Angry with you?’ He was bemused she could think that. ‘Goodnight, Savannah.’

‘Ethan, please.’

He was halfway through the door when she ran towards him. ‘Sleep well,’ he said, closing the door firmly behind him with Savannah on the other side. He didn’t trust himself to wait and listen to her reply.

She sat on the bed for a long time after Ethan left. With her arms pressed tightly on the top of her head, she knew she’d made such a hash of everything and that she didn’t have a clue how to make it right. She had known for some time now that she loved Ethan. How could she care for anyone as deeply as she did for him and not love him? But he still frightened her. She had played a foolish game of make-believe. The first time Ethan had noticed she was a woman, she had taken fright, and now his principles meant they could never be together. Well done, Savannah , she congratulated herself; there’d be no encores here.

Climbing off the bed, she went to stare into the mirror. What did Ethan see when he stared in his? He lived his life in spite of his injuries. He had triumphed over them. Or had he? Was she only seeing Ethan’s public face? Did those scars torment him when he was alone? Because she cared about him, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. How could she leave Tuscany and Ethan with so many things unresolved? She would go to him and speak to him. She would reason with him in the hope that when she went away they could at least be friends.