“Why Didn’t You Tell Me You Were A Virgin?”
“Why would I?” Gina snapped.
“Because it would have been fair to warn me!”
“Warn you? So you were expecting me to maybe wear a sign around my neck? How about ‘Virgin— Deflowering Required’?”
“You should have told me,” Nick said simply, shooting her an icy glance.
She would not feel guilty about this, Gina told herself. Every woman had the right to choose when and where and with whom she lost her virginity. She’d chosen Nick.
Nick buttoned his jeans, then looked her directly in the eyes. “If I’d known, nothing would have happened here tonight.”
“Then I’m glad I didn’t tell.” Because no matter how things were going now, the actual sex part of the evening had been spectacular. For a few brief wonderful moments she’d actually felt connected to Nick. And certainly every couple’s “forever” began with a moment’s connection….
Dear Reader,
Silhouette is celebrating our 20th anniversary in 2000, and the latest powerful, passionate, provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire are as hot as that steamy summer weather!
For August’s MAN OF THE MONTH, the fabulous BJ James begins her brand-new miniseries, MEN OF BELLE TERRE. In The Return of Adams Cade, a self-made millionaire returns home to find redemption in the arms of his first love.
Beloved author Cait London delivers another knockout in THE TALLCHIEFS miniseries with Tallchief: The Homecoming, also part of the highly sensual Desire promotion BODY & SOUL. And Desire is proud to present Bride of Fortune by Leanne Banks, the launch title of FORTUNE’S CHILDREN: THE GROOMS, another exciting spin-off of the bestselling Silhouette FORTUNE’S CHILDREN continuity miniseries.
BACHELOR BATTALION marches on with Maureen Child’s The Last Santini Virgin, in which a military man’s passion for a feisty virgin weakens his resolve not to marry. In Name Only is how a sexy rodeo cowboy agrees to temporarily wed a pregnant preacher’s daughter in the second book of Peggy Moreland’s miniseries TEXAS GROOMS. And Christy Lockhart reconciles a once-married couple who are stranded together in a wintry cabin during One Snowbound Weekend….
So indulge yourself by purchasing all six of these summer delights from Silhouette Desire…and read them in air-conditioned comfort.
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
The Last Santini Virgin
Maureen Child
www.millsandboon.co.uk
For my cousin, Kathy Carberry Makowski,
who, like the rest of us, may get knocked down,
but always gets up.
MAUREEN CHILD
was born and raised in Southern California and is the only person she knows who longs for an occasional change of season. She is delighted to be writing for Silhouette Books and is especially excited to be a part of the Desire line.
An avid reader, Maureen looks forward to those rare rainy California days when she can curl up and sink into a good book. Or two. When she isn’t busy writing, she and her husband of twenty-five years like to travel, leaving their two grown children in charge of the neurotic golden retriever who is the real head of the household. Maureen is also an award-winning historical writer under the names Kathleen Kane and Ann Carberry.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
“Move that hand, Marine,” Gina Santini said firmly, “or lose it.”
Gunnery Sergeant Nick Paretti chuckled and slowly, deliberately, slid his hand higher up her back, away from her behind. “What’s the matter, princess?” he asked. “Do I make you nervous?”
Nervous didn’t quite cover it, she thought. For three and a half weeks, now, she’d been spending three nights a week in this man’s arms. And it wasn’t getting any easier.
Although she was annoyed by Nick’s arrogance, the real problem was her attraction to him. It was no use trying to argue with her own hormones. But for Heaven’s sake, how could she feel such electricity for a man who’d made it his life’s work to irritate her?
“You’re trying to lead again.” His deep voice shook her, as always, and she resented him for that, too.
Gina tilted her head way back and looked up into her dance partner’s eyes. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to lead if you’d remember the steps.”
“And maybe,” Nick nearly growled, “I’d remember the steps if you wouldn’t quit changing the rhythm on me.”
She inhaled deeply and counted to ten. Then twenty. Nope, she was still mad. She tried to drag her right hand free of the man’s iron grip, but it was like trying to pull a train with a compact car. Ballroom dance lessons had seemed like such a good idea a month ago. But how could she have known that she’d be paired with a man too tall, too broad and too stubborn?
“Look, General,” she said.
“Gunnery Sergeant,” he corrected her. “Or Nick.”
Apparently, he was feeling magnanimous tonight.
“Nick,” she said, trying to sound cooperative, “we’re both paying a lot of money for these lessons. Don’t you think we should be working together to get the most out of them?”
“I’m doing my share, honey,” he told her, his blue eyes staring steadily into hers. “Our problems start when you try to do my share, too.”
Okay, so she had a little problem with leading and following. But that was better than letting him indulge his tendency to stomp her toes into oblivion.
“Fine,” she said. “You lead. Only this time try not to crush my toes.”
One black eyebrow lifted. “If you didn’t have such big feet, they wouldn’t be in the way.”
Gina stiffened. She was just a little sensitive about the size of her feet. Was it her fault that her mother’s size-four feet had not been handed down to her? “Believe it or not,” she said tightly, “no one else in the world has trouble avoiding my toes.”
“Luck,” he muttered.
“And don’t call me honey,” she snapped.
Gina’s gaze drifted around the room. Five other couples seemed to be gliding effortlessly across the highly polished wood floor. No one else appeared to be battling constantly with their partner. “Do we have to argue our way through every lesson?” she whispered more to herself than to him.
“No argument here, princess,” Nick said, bending his head toward hers and keeping his voice low, “as long as you admit that I’m the man and I’m supposed to lead.”
Was he going to grunt and pound his chest next?
“So,” he asked as the music swelled around them, “you ready now?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she said.
“Let’s get it done, then.” He paused, and she watched him listening to the music, catching the beat. Then he took a deep breath and threw them both into the deep end of the dancing pool. As they executed their first turn, he gave her a fleeting half smile.
Lucky for her it was gone so fast, she thought as she silently acknowledged the thud of her heartbeat. Those occasional smiles of his were nerve-racking. No other man had ever affected her like this. And Gina wasn’t at all sure she liked it. On the other hand, there didn’t seem to be much she could do about it.
The moment they’d been assigned to each other as partners, there’d been fireworks. Not the nice, safe, pretty ones you saw at choreographed Fourth of July shows. Nope, these were down-and-dirty, completely illegal, bottle-rocket fireworks. Hot flashes, brilliant light and a breathtaking sense of imminent danger.
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