The Virgin: Revenge (7 page)

Maybe, just maybe I could figure out where to go from here.

Or maybe
not
.

He made easy small talk, ate nearly three fourths of a large pie and then left.

As his footsteps faded down the hall, I leaned my back against the door and closed my

eyes.

Then, because I was too tired just then do anything else, I locked the door, trudged

down the hall and collapsed face first on the bed.

I seemed to spend a lot of time in this position ever since I’d started my

little…experiment.

“I’m a glutton for punishment,” I mumbled into the bed.

An afternoon around a man I wanted like I wanted to breathe. Maybe more. I knew

what it was like to breathe, and while breathing was
necessary
, I knew what breathing was like.

I actually
craved
him, but I had no idea what it would be like.

Actually, I had no idea what sex would be like, period.

I’d closed down after that summer. Even when the pain faded, even when the sense of

betrayal no longer cut so deep, there had been a sense of…grief. All of it was tied together in

my mind, forged into a chain by that grief, by my own misery and obsession and a wall had

become to form.

That wall closed me off and I couldn’t scale it, no matter how hard I tried. For the

longest time, I hadn’t
wanted
to. When the grief and the guilt finally started to fade, the mad crept in.

It wasn’t until my senior year of college that I finally let it all go enough to try to start

living again. Doug. Doug Anderson had driven me a mild form of crazy and if it hadn’t been for

one minor detail, I might have actually slept
tried
to sleep with him. Maybe he could have

helped me climb that wall. I don’t know. I’d
wanted
to. I’d wanted him.

He’d brought me so close…so very close, close enough that the hunger I’d felt for him

had kept me lying awake more than once.

He had a way with his hands, a way with his mouth. A way with everything, really.

I’d kept quiet about a number of things in school. My past, the shadows that I’d tried to

outrun. And he’d had some secrets of his own. Including a lover that he was still in love with.

I could understand, really. I knew what it was like to want somebody.

But his lover, a sexy, worthless bastard who really didn’t deserve him, made a repeat

appearance back in his life. Doug was a bisexual—that was the secret he’d kept from me. I

didn’t
care
, about his sexuality. I did care about the fact that he’d been using me to try to forget about the guy he was still in love with.

He was sorry, of course. He did care for me, and he was sorry he’d hurt me.

Could we be friends?

We could.

We still were.

But it was another nail in my virginal coffin.

The two men who I’d thought were the ones had so
not
been.

I didn’t give up
right
away. There were a few other guys I dated in college, but the first

guy was one who’d heard about Doug’s…alternative sexuality and he’d been convinced that

meant I must be desperate for a good lay. He’d actually
told
me that. There was no way I was going to waste another minute with him. I’d left him in the middle of the meal after tossing

down a ten to pay for my burger. The next guy had been pre-med and he wanted a list of the

guys I’d been with before he would even
kiss
me.

I’d decided to focus on college.

And nights passed while I dreamt about Drake.

Not too much time went by without me thinking about him. In fits of rage, yes. But

often with just…longing. Need. I’d wanted him, even at seventeen, more than I’d wanted

anybody else, after him.

It wasn’t until two years ago that I realized the truth of it, until I understand why I felt

closed off. That was when I began to understand the truth about the wall inside me. Until I had

him out of my system that I’d ever have a
real
chance with somebody else.That was when I’d

started looking. Watching.

I’d had a chance to move to Philadelphia—he headed up the offices here, something I

was well aware of—I’d taken it, knowing that I was putting myself closer and closer.

It had taken all this time to get
here
.

Part of me wondered if I shouldn’t just go up to him and say…something.

You broke my heart, ruined my family when I was a kid. Now I’m a sexual screw-up and I think

it’s your fault. Why don’t we have sex so I can get over you
?

I flopped onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. “I bet that would go over well.”

Mai’s words came back to haunt me.

If anything personal arises, you’ll be done at the company…

Well.

Sex got pretty downright personal, right?

But if that was my end goal, I needed to move things along.

Rolling out of my bed, I eyed the suits in my closet.

Just how in the hell do you go about seducing somebody?

Week one complete.

I was taking this in stages.

I had to be subtle, because if I just up and planted my ass in his lap, he’d figured it out.

I’d be out of a job and gone before I had a chance to accomplish the goal.

But I’d gotten through the first week.

And all I’d done was make myself relax. Or at least
pretend
to relax around him.

It was too easy to do, and too often, I’d found myself
really
lowering my guard,

something I could never do. Being near him, without the walls I’d built around myself made

me remember the girl I’d been, the man I’d thought he was. I’d used to laugh with him. It was

too easy to glide closer to that line. It was a line I couldn’t cross and I had to remember that.

He made it hard, too, because sometimes I’d see him watching me, an odd look in his

eyes that made me wonder.

But if he recognized me, if he remembered me, wouldn’t he say something? Or, hey,
fire

me?

Surely he’d realized I wouldn’t be working for him out of coincidence, that I didn’t

remember
him
, right?

So he must not remember.

Maybe he has just bought so many little hotels, made so many
acquisitions
that he can’t

remember them all.

And that’s entirely possible. I’ve gone through the records. Gallagher Enterprises has

more than doubled in size in the past decade, ever since the Boy Genius came along. That was

what his brothers teasingly called him. All of them were architects, but he had a little

something extra. That was what the articles said, at least. He knew when to buy, where to buy.

When to build. A few of the acquisitions he’d made had been…questionable…some might say.

Bad bets, risky.

They turned out to be the biggest and best moneymakers the company had. Had my

parents placed turned out like that? I wouldn’t know. I imagined I wouldn’t even recognize it,

but I refused to let myself so much as look it up online.

It hurt to think of it. The place I loved so much had been a risk, a bad bet. Because it
did

hurt to think of it, I pushed it out of my mind and focused on the current project.

He’d ended up bypassing the company in Dallas. Now they were looking at another

company in Austin—somebody younger. “They’ll want to do something more along the lines

of merger, not an acquisition,” he’d told me when he had me start doing the research. “He

wants us to keep his people on, including him.”

“And you’ll do what, then?”

“If I feel it’s a good move for us, then that’s what we’ll do. He’s got a good head for

business, but he took it over from his father and his father…well. That’s a different story. I’ll

just have to see what feels right when we sit down to meet.” He’d shrugged and had me order

up lunch.

Now as it ticked closer to seven, my arches were screaming and I swept notes, pens, and

my tablet into my bag. “What time tomorrow, Mr. Gallagher?”

“Drake,” he said again.

I sighed, putting a lot of patience into the sound. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”

“I will when you start calling me Drake.”

“Fine. Drake. What time tomorrow?”

He paused, leaning back in his chair. “Wow. You gave in already?”

I pretended to be confused. “You don’t want me to call you Drake?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked about fifty times this week.”

“I think it was sixty-two.” Hitching my bag onto my shoulder, I rested a hand on my

desk. “Tomorrow?”

He watched me. “Take the morning off. But I need you tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Charity dinner. Black tie. If you can’t find anything, let Sierra know and she’ll help

you.”

I stared at him. “Is this a business function?”

“Yes. I make business connections and I prefer not to have a dozen women trying to

snare me for the next bachelor function or whatever else they might want.” A faint smile

slanted his lips and his eyes were unreadable. The sun’s dying light filtered through the tinted

glass and he angled his head, studying me. “Mai was comfortable attending such functions. If

you’re not…”

Jack-ass. Daring me. “It’s not an issue.” I turned on my heel. Great. Another night in

heels. Had to find a dress. Had to spend the night looking at him a fucking tux.

I refused to admit my palms were a little sweaty just thinking of it.

♦

In retrospect, I understood why he wanted somebody with him.

He kept me on his arm almost the entire night. He didn’t drink alcohol, he spoke with a

number of people and I lost track of the cards he had pushed into his palm. Many of which

were pushed into mine, a few were carelessly discarded.

Several times, he leaned over and murmured into my ear, “I want you to give him a call

next week.” Or “When he calls, I’m not in. Ever.”

Sometimes, he had a sly little comment to add which strained my patience because I

wasn’t supposed to be snickering as somebody walked away.

Then came a tall, slim brunette. She could have passed for my older, much more

polished sister. If I had one, and if she was loaded. The diamonds at her neck were discreet

and tasteful, the silk dress she wore was the sort of designer piece that I only wished I’d allow

myself to indulge in. But where would I wear such a thing? Other than…well…an event like

this. I did have money, thanks to my parents, but it would last if I made such foolish indulges

but my, what a lovely indulgence. It fell over her curves like jeweled mist and part of me

sighed with envy.

She cast me a dismissive glance. “This is your latest guard-dog, Drake?”

His hand settled more firmly at the small of my back. “My admin, Shannon. Shannon,

this is Myra Fairbanks. Her husband heads up the charity.”

She didn’t even look at me. “And where is Mai?”

“She’s left me, I’m afraid. I’m heartbroken, but Shannon is helping me through.”

Myra took a step closer, lifted a hand.

Before she could make contact, Drake backed up. It was subtle, careful. But very clear.

Don’t touch
…

“Aw, lover,” she purred. “I just wanted to ask if you had time to slip away for a

moment.”

“Would your husband mind?” I asked.

Her eyes flashed to me. “I wasn’t speaking to you.”

I blinked at her. “If you need to make an appointment with Mr. Gallagher, I’ll take your

information and see if he has anything open on his schedule. But I hardly see that this is the

place for personal assignations, especially as your husband is looking this way.” I glanced past

her, nodding at the man with distinguished silver hair and a black mustache. I’d met him

earlier. He’d seemed kind, with a big, boisterous laugh and when he spoke of the children the

charity would help, you could see his heart in his eyes.

Her eyes, pale blue and glittering, remained on me for a long moment. Then she turned

on her heel and swayed away.

“An assignation,” he mused.

“I’m not carrying a thesaurus,” I said. “If you’re unfamiliar with the meaning, you’ll

have to look it up later.”

He chuckled. “You handle her about as well as Mai does. She won’t like you for it.”

“She likes you even less.” Myra was glaring at us from behind the rim of a martini

glass.

“She hasn’t liked me for quite a while.” He gave me a sidelong look. “Ever since I

refused to repeat an assignation.”

“Well. Perhaps you shouldn’t have indulged the first time. She looks like she’s high

maintenance.” The words slipped out of me before I could stop them and I looked away as his

laugh echoed through the room.

“Indeed. Come on. We’ve got more palms to shake. I want to get out of here sometime

before midnight.”

It was eleven-forty-nine when the car pulled away from the hotel.

I resisted the urge to slip off my shoes, but I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my ankles

and curling my toes against the padded bed. A moment later, a warm hand closed around my

ankle. I tensed, shooting a look at him.

He wasn’t looking at me.

He was almost determinedly
not
looking at me as he lifted my foot up.

This…

My breath caught as he loosened the strap. “I don’t see how you women wear these,”

he murmured as he set the ball of his thumb against my instep.

“Mr. Gallagher.”

His gaze lifted and he stared at me through his lashes. “Drake. It’s Drake.