One Night On The Virgin's Terms - Melanie Milburne Page 0,16
a frown appeared on his forehead. ‘You don’t need fixing, Ivy. There’s nothing wrong with you.’
‘What if I’m frigid? What if I can’t get over my inhibitions?’
‘We’ll work on building your confidence first and I bet the rest will sort itself out.’
Ivy grasped his hand across the table. ‘Thank you.’
He picked up her hand and brought it up to his lips, holding her gaze with the grey-blue intensity of his. He pressed a soft-as-air kiss to her bent knuckles, sending a wave of heat through her entire body. Electric fizzes and tingles that made her acutely aware of the throbbing pulse deep and low in her pelvis. She couldn’t break his gaze even if she’d wanted to. She was transfixed by the naked need she could see reflected there, the same need she could feel vibrating in her body.
But he still hadn’t fully committed to sleeping with her and the clock was ticking as she approached her thirtieth birthday. Tick. Tick. Tick. What if he refused to do as she asked? What if his ‘possibility of sex’ became an impossibility for him? The thought of hooking up with a stranger was even more distressing to her now, especially since she had been kissed by Louis. His kiss had surprised and delighted her in a way no other kiss had. Her previous dates had kissed her, but those kisses hadn’t been a patch on Louis’. He’d suggested spending time together first, and that sounded all fine and dandy, but what she wanted—needed—was to offload her inhibitions. And the only way to do that was to get the deed done. With him.
The moment was broken by the waiter turning up with their entrée but, all through the rest of the meal, Ivy was conscious of Louis’ every movement. It was as if her body’s radar had a new setting, aware of him in a way it hadn’t been before. His hands as he operated his cutlery. The movement of his lips as he took a sip of wine. The way his crisp ice-blue business shirt framed his broad shoulders and muscular chest. The tan of his skin that hinted at the amount of time he spent outdoors. The long, straight blade of his nose, the aristocratic contour of his cheekbones, the dark slash of his eyebrows above his sharply intelligent eyes.
As far as the male package went, he had everything—looks, wealth, stability, sex appeal. Why hadn’t she noticed that brooding sex appeal before? Or maybe she had but had dismissed it, thinking he would never be interested in her.
But he was interested in her. His kiss had proved that without a doubt. The chemistry between them was unmistakable, obvious even to someone with as little experience as her.
Ivy picked up her napkin and dabbed at each corner of her mouth. ‘Just out of interest—have you ever made love to a virgin before?’
Louis blinked as if her question had startled him out of a private reverie. ‘No.’ He put down his knife and fork in the ‘finished’ position on his dinner plate.
Ivy picked up her wine glass, a strange tickly sensation trickling down the back of her legs. ‘Does the thought of doing so make you nervous?’
His eyes came back to hers and another jolting sensation pulsed through her body. ‘No. I can see now how much your virginity is troubling you.’
She studied him for a moment. ‘So, you’re really serious about helping me?’
‘One thing you should know about me, ma chérie. Once I commit to a goal, I always see it through. Always.’
Ivy suppressed a delicious shudder. Lucky me.
CHAPTER THREE
‘SO HOW DID your dinner with Louis Charpentier go?’ Zoey, her other flatmate, asked the next morning. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Millie told me about “the plan”. Did he agree to it?’
So much for keeping her plan a secret. One thing was certain, Millie would never cut it as an undercover agent. ‘Yes and no. I think he’s stalling but I’m going to change his mind. I have to. I’ve only got a month to get this done.’ Ivy reached for a coffee pod and popped it in the machine. ‘We’re going out on Friday night.’ Saying those words out loud made her body tingle all over in anticipation. Louis hadn’t touched her again after he’d dropped her home the night before, and it surprised her how much she’d wanted him to.
‘Ooh! Where’s he taking you?’ Zoey leaned on the counter near the coffee machine, her own steaming cup cradled in