Trish Morey - The Hot-Headed Virgin - The Virgin's Price / The Greek's Virgin / The Italian Billionaire's Virgin

Mia stood looking out at the view rather than meet Bryn’s dark eyes. ‘How long have you lived here?’ she asked.

She heard the chink of a glass behind her. ‘A couple of years or so. I wanted a place where the Press can’t hound me all the time.’

She turned around to look at him in puzzlement. ‘I thought you actively courted the Press. Isn’t that the whole reason I’m playing this role for you, to increase your ratings?’

He took a sip of his drink before answering. ‘It’s one of the reasons you are here.’

She gave him a wary look, her heart beginning to thud unevenly. ‘You mean there’s more than one?’

He put his glass down and came to stand in front of her. Mia tried to step away but the backs of her legs came up against one of the sofas. She drew in a sharp little breath as she brought her gaze up to his. His eyes were so dark she felt as if she was staring into the moonless midnight sky.

‘When you poured that coffee in my lap this morning I thought it would be a good opportunity to give my ratings a boost by pretending to have a whirlwind romance with you, and it worked. The public fell for it, hook line and sinker. Annabelle called me earlier with the ratings for this afternoon’s show and they were absolutely phenomenal. The stuff the Press releases tomorrow will ramp them up even more. But it’s not the only reason I have for wanting you to act this role for me a little longer.’

Mia waited for him to go on, wondering what other reason he could have for continuing this ridiculous charade. She wanted it to stop before things got out of hand. She already felt as if she’d stepped over some sort of invisible barrier after he’d kissed her, not once but three times. She wasn’t even sure if what she was doing was even acting any more. The more time she spent with him the more the lines blurred between what was real and what was fantasy.

‘Jocey mentioned my great-aunt Agnes to you this evening,’ he said after a small pause.

‘Yes…’

‘She’s my only living relative and I owe her a great deal.’ He let out a small sigh and scored a rough pathway through the dark brown silk of his hair before adding, ‘She hasn’t got long to live and I would give anything to make her last few weeks of life as happy as they can possibly be.’

Mia was surprised by the sincerity in his voice, he sounded as if he really cared for his great aunt.

Truly cared.

She found it difficult to fit his public persona as a thirty-three-year-old filthy rich playboy with a reputation for shallow, short-lived relationships with the man in front of her, who obviously cared very deeply for an ageing relative.

‘I’m sorry about your great-aunt’s health,’ she said softly. ‘It must be an awful time for you both.’

His gaze meshed with hers once more. ‘My great-aunt’s only wish is to see me happily settled. She sacrificed her chance at marriage in order to raise me when my parents died so suddenly when I was a child. She gave up everything for me.’

Mia swallowed at the sudden intensity of his blue-black gaze.

‘You see, Mia, a simple engagement might be enough for the Press and the public, but it is not going to be enough for Agnes.’

‘I-it’s not?’

He shook his head gravely. ‘No. What she wants more than anything in the world before she dies is to see me officially married.’

‘M-married?’ she gulped. ‘Officially?’

‘Yes, in front of witnesses, preferably in a church and legally binding.’

‘You surely don’t expect me to…’ She found it impossible to finish the sentence in case by saying it out loud it would somehow make it inescapably true.

‘I’m asking you to marry me, Mia,’ he said, confirming her worst fears.

She stared at him open-mouthed. Surely she’d misheard him. He couldn’t possibly have…

‘Of course, I don’t expect you to do it for nothing,’ he went on evenly. ‘I will pay you a lump sum up front and a generous allowance for as long as the marriage continues.’

‘You want me to marry you? For real?’ She gawped at him incredulously. ‘You mean you’re actually serious about this?’

He frowned at her stupefied expression. ‘I’m not asking you to jump off the harbour bridge, Mia, just to wear my ring until such time as it is no longer necessary.’

Mia’s stomach felt as if she’d just jumped off Centrepoint Tower, which was a whole lot taller than the harbour bridge. How could she possibly consent to marrying a man she hated? And even worse—for money?

‘But marriage?’ she asked again, shaking her head in disbelief.

‘Yes, as in vows and rings and stuff.’

‘Marriage is a whole lot more than vows and rings and stuff,’ she said. ‘It’s a legally binding agreement between two people who are supposed to love one another and promise to do so until death parts them.’

‘So we’re not exactly up to scratch on all the particulars but we can still pull this off,’ he said.

‘You sound as if you’re discussing some sort of business proposal.’

‘That’s exactly what I’m discussing. A business proposal.’

Mia frowned as she tried to take it all in. ‘You mean this won’t really be a real marriage?’

‘It will be real in the sense that it will be official and legal. I can’t risk someone uncovering it as a sham but as for us being a normal couple…’ he hesitated for a fraction of a second before adding, ‘well, of course it won’t be real.’

She moistened her bone-dry lips. ‘So we won’t be…you know…’

His dark eyes met hers. ‘Having sex?’

‘Yes…’

‘Not unless you want to.’

Mia felt her cheeks burning but forced herself to hold his gaze. ‘Of course I don’t want to!’

His expression was contemplative as he held her gaze for several moments before he responded. ‘Fine; however, I must insist that for the duration of our marriage you refrain from sleeping with anyone else. I wouldn’t want anyone to suspect things are not normal between us if you are seen with someone other than me.’

She gave him a pointed look. ‘Do I get to insist on the same rule for you?’

‘I will do my best to be discreet if the need should arise.’

‘Then I insist on the same for myself. I, too, can be discreet.’

‘As you wish, but let me tell you if you put one step wrong I will be extremely angry. I don’t want my great-aunt to be upset by any rumours of impropriety.’

‘She won’t be upset by me,’ Mia said confidently. ‘At least I don’t have any empty-headed bimbos in my background.’

He gave her a droll look. ‘As of today I have finished with empty-headed bimbos. You are now, for all intents and purposes, the love of my life, and I expect you to maintain that illusion for as long as is necessary.’

‘And I thought my four years at stage school were challenging,’ Mia muttered resentfully.

‘The challenging part for you will be controlling your propensity for insulting me at every opportunity.’

She gave a cynical snort. ‘That’s rich coming from the High Priest of Insults. If you weren’t such a pompous jerk I wouldn’t find it so challenging.’

‘If you weren’t such an uptight little cat you would see I’m nothing like the public image I project,’ he clipped back.

She folded her arms across her chest, her expression full of scorn. ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re really nothing like the Bryn Dwyer the public has come to love and hate. Oh, please. Spare me the violins. Anyone can see you’re a self-serving egotist who would stop at nothing to achieve his ends. This crazy scheme of yours to hoodwink your great-aunt is a case in point. What kind of man would openly lie to a little old lady by marrying a woman he has absolutely no feelings for?’