Virgin Seductress
J.M. Jeffries

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Jackie: For my father, Earl Alexander Hamilton, you

taught me the magic of dreams and the power of

wishes. I have loved you since my first breath and I will

miss you until my last. For Miriam, this would never

have been possible if you didn’t believe in me. You are

the ultimate fairy godmother.

Miriam: To my husband, Parker, thank you for your

love, your loyalty and your perpetual faith in me.

When I was writing stories and hiding them, you

taught me to believe in myself. I would not be at this

point in my life and my career without your incredible

belief that I would succeed. To Jackie: You have

brought so much energy to my life, I can never thank

you enough. This book is your gift.

Contents

Acknowledgment

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

Acknowledgment

For Sherrie, you put up with us and in our book that earns you the Nobel Peace Prize.

“Never thought you’d get one of those, huh?”

Prologue

Wayloo, Mississippi

Nell Evans gripped the armrest of the navy leather chair in her grandmother’s lawyer’s office. “How much money did she leave me?” She doubted it was too much. She and her grandmother had lived simple lives.

Billy Ray Cross swiped the snow-white handkerchief across his balding forehead. “Including stocks, bank accounts, a few outstanding loans and property after estate taxes, Miss Sarah left you about eighteen-point-five.”

Numb, she gazed out of the office window and studied the statue of Robert E. Lee on a rearing horse in the town square. Nell flexed her fingers hoping to get some feeling back. Eighteen point five what? Thousand? Hundred thousand? Her mind refused to go beyond that. There was no way her grandmother could have had anything more than that. Was there?

“Nell, honey?”

“Hundred?” Not possible, she thought even as the word left her mouth. Grandmother had complained over every little expenditure and when gas prices had passed the two-dollar mark, she’d parked the old big-as-a-boat Buick away in the garage and insisted Nell walk everywhere.

“Million.” Billy Ray grinned over the tops of his steepled fingers. “Give or take.”

The least he could do was look as shocked as she felt. “Oh, my,” she croaked. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her face got hot. Her heart raced as if it would burst out of her chest. She was too young to have a heart attack, but her chest was tightening. Panic and disbelief set in. Inhaling deeply, she tried to get some air into her lungs before she fainted.

Billy Ray leaned forward and grabbed a glass pitcher of water off his desktop. He turned over a glass and started pouring some water into it. “Nell, honey, are you okay?” He stopped pouring and held out the glass to her. “You want some water?”

Her hand was shaking so badly, she refused, afraid she’d drop the glass. Instead, she licked dry lips and fanned her hot face. Eighteen-point-five million! She almost pinched herself. Not possible. This just wasn’t possible. Where had all that money come from? “Are you sure? There has to be some kind of mistake.”

“No mistake.”

Feeling a bit calmer, Nell tried to think how this could have happened. The diner her grandmother had owned and where Nell worked didn’t generate the kind of money that would produce eighteen million dollars. This had to be a mistake. Only a few days before she’d died, her grandmother had scolded Nell for leaving the light on in the bathroom. Money doesn’t grow on trees. She had taught Nell how to stretch a dollar, but eighteen-point-five million dollars was almost ridiculous. “But my grandmother was such a…a tightwad. She couldn’t—”

“Honey,” Billy Ray said as he put the glass on the table then pushed it toward her, “you done hit the mother lode. Be happy.”

Well, no kidding. Her grandmother clipped coupons. Used soap until it was a sliver. Wrapped presents in the Sunday comics. The room spun for a second, but Nell took a deep breath and steadied herself. She picked up the glass and gulped the water down. “I don’t understand. Where did all this money come from?” Grandmother, she silently chided the dead woman, you kept secrets from me.

“Miss Sarah was a right smart woman who saved and invested wisely. She just lived like she didn’t have a dime.” He loosened his tacky hula-girl tie. “Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t still have her first dime.”

Nell opened her mouth to speak. But nothing came out. Her mind couldn’t quite grasp the fact that she was an heiress. An heiress! Just like Paris Hilton. She blew out a long breath and forced her hands to stop shaking. Her life had just taken a strange turn for the better.

Eighteen-point-five million dollars! That would buy a lot of dreams. Dreams she’d kept tight inside her for so many years, afraid even to write them down in her journal. With that kind of money she could do anything she wanted, including her most cherished dream of quitting the diner, moving to New York and creating a new life for herself. She could go to college. She could buy a swank New York apartment. She could go to the theater, to galleries, to museums. Walk through Macy’s or Sak’s Fifth Avenue and buy anything she wanted. Finally she could see Times Square and take a carriage ride through Central Park!

Outside, a little boy on a brand-new bike pedaled down the street, passing Doolittle’s Five and Dime. Not that anything was only five or ten cents anymore, but the name had never changed despite the advancement of inflation. Nell thought of all the times she’d shopped the clearance racks at the back of the store, paying as little as she could for the cheapest anything. She could finally purchase air-conditioning. She could…she could…she didn’t know what, her mind was frozen. “My grandmother wasn’t crazy, was she? I mean, I would have known if she’d lost her mind? Right?”

“Rest easy. Miss Sarah wasn’t crazy. She just grew up in the Depression, Nell.” Billy Ray shrugged as though he could make her understand a vital element of her grandmother’s personality. “It’s not uncommon for people from that time to hoard everything they could. At least she didn’t stuff the money in her mattress. She put every penny she could into CDs, money markets and stock. Miss Sarah had a pretty shrewd grasp of the stock market and wasn’t afraid to take a few risks.”

Billy Ray opened a manila folder on top of his desk and picked up a pink envelope. “I think this might help you. She made me promise I’d give it to you after I told you about the money.” He held it out to her. “She had me write it out for you. She had the shakes so bad toward the end all she could do was sign.”

Nell’s hand shook as she took the envelope. Her first instinct was to refuse the letter. Part of her didn’t want to know. She could smell a hint of lavender on the heavy paper. Her grandmother had always smelled of lavender. “Should I read it now?”

He nodded. “I know what’s in the letter.”

He actually blushed. Was the letter embarrassing? What other secrets could her grandmother have? Carefully she slid her finger under the sealed flap. That way she could use it again, just like her grandmother used to do. The pages crinkled in her cold fingers as she unfolded the letter.

My Dearest Nell,

For so long I’ve kept you tied to me. I didn’t start out that way, but as I grew older, I was afraid of being alone again. I lost my husband. I lost my daughter when she ran off, and I survived both of those hardships. When your mama dropped you off as a baby, you were my second chance to get things right. I held you so tight I didn’t let you take a breath without me next to you. I don’t think I could have lost you and lived another minute. Please forgive me for manipulating you into keeping an old woman company. You are young and full of dreams, ones I tried to keep you from fulfilling. Forgive me. Know this, I love you with all my heart. I hope this helps you find your place in the world. Go to New York. Go to college. Be the woman you are meant to be.

Grandmother.

Nell’s bottom lip began to tremble. Her throat went dry. Her grandmother did love her, but she’d deceived her. How could Nell make up for all this wasted time? She’d put her dreams aside to take care of her grandmother, to keep her company, to be a good girl. A hot tear slipped down her cheek. Who was she supposed to be now?

Nell Evans: Heiress. That didn’t fit right. And she wasn’t sure it ever would.

Chapter 1

Nine Days Later

Riley Martin heard his black Labrador, Chester, bark. Tucked beneath the undercarriage of his truck, oil dripping down his neck, he turned his head, straining to see what, or who, Chester was barking at.

From between the passenger-side wheels of his truck, he watched a pair of sensible white shoes beneath shapely legs and calves the color of warm clover honey making their way up his driveway. His heart raced.

The only woman in Wayloo who had sexy calves and sensible shoes was Nell Evans. Sweet untouchable Nell. He felt a stirring in his groin and almost groaned. When had he sunk so low that waitress shoes could give him a woodie? Damn, how embarrassing. He had no control over this. “Down, boy,” he murmured. He wasn’t some thirteen-year-old boy in the throes of hormonal rampages anymore. He was twenty-five years old, almost twenty-six, and old enough to know better. But then this was Nell, the source of any number of wet dreams over the years and awkward silences when he was with her. Nell did that to him. Unless he was ordering dinner from her at the diner, or chitchatting about the weather, he was never quite sure what to say to her when he really wanted to ask her to go out with him.

Chester’s black-furred legs joined Nell’s on the strip of smooth pavement. “Hi, Nell,” Riley called.

After a few seconds of silence, she bent down and peered beneath the truck. Tendrils of curly blueblack hair fell forward across her pretty cheeks. “Hi, Riley.”

He smiled. “What can I help you with?” Thoughts of what he wanted to help her do ran through his head at lightning speed. Massage oil came to mind. His palms started to sweat, so he put his wrench down before he dropped it on his head.

Nell pushed a stray tendril behind her ear. “Do you have a minute?”

She wanted a minute with him. Only a minute! To do her properly he’d need five days and fifty cans of whipped cream. Like that would ever happen. But he could dream. “Yeah, give me a second and I’ll be right with you.”

He worked his way out from beneath his truck and stood. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out an old rag and cleaned off his hands.

Nell had an attractive flush to her light brown cheeks. She chewed her bottom lip. Her hands were stuffed in the pockets of her bubblegum-pink waitress uniform, but he could see her fingers flex inside them. Wisps of curly black hair had worked their way loose from the tight bun at the nape of her neck. Despite the heat, the front of her uniform was buttoned up tight to her throat.

Just once before he died, he wished she’d flash him some of that spectacular cleavage she always kept hidden. Scanning her ripe curves, he had to stop his tongue from falling out of his mouth. She had one hell of a body. All curvy and round and womanly, it was a body crafted for a good time. She was the eighth deadly sin wrapped in pink polyester. And he so wanted to sin.

Hell, he’d dreamed about her luscious body for twelve of his last twenty-five years. And twenty-five years from now, he’d still be dreaming about that body. What he would do for a glimpse. Of course, Nell would have something to say about that.

What was he thinking? Her answer would be a polite but firm no. That was Nell in a nutshell. Buttoned up and hemmed-in didn’t come any better than Nell.

He stuffed greasy hands into the pockets of his coveralls and rolled back on his heels. “What can I do for you, Nell?” Kiss you? Bed you? Lick you all over? Be your sex slave? I’m open for suggestions.

“Can we go into the house?”

Nell alone with me in the house? This was a straight-up dream come true. Sweet. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

She walked ahead of him, which gave him a prime opportunity to watch the seductive sway of her heart-shaped butt. Beyoncé, eat your heart out.

“Riley?”

He jerked to a stop and realized they were on the veranda and she seemed to be waiting. “Yeah?”

“The door?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

Riley tried to bring himself out of his Nell-induced daze. “What?”

Nell faced him, an odd expression on her face. “Are you…are you going to open the door for me?” She raised her eyebrows and clutched her Texas-sized brown vinyl purse to her chest.

Riley wondered how long he’d been so deeply mired into Nell fantasy nine hundred and forty-seven that he’d forgotten where he was. Holding up his dirty hands, he said, “Could you get the door handle? Dirty hands.” He didn’t want to touch his brand-spanking-new antique brass handle with greasy hands. Of course, not opening a door for a lady would have sent his dead great-grandmother running for her leather strap so she could pop him on the butt for bad manners.

Nell tilted her gaze away, her cheeks going a darker red. “Of course.”

He loved making her blush. Somehow she seemed more alive. More touchable. And how he wanted to touch. “I have some sweet tea in the fridge. Would you like a glass?” he asked as they entered the cool interior of the house.

“That would be nice. Thank you.” She gave him a shy smile. “Would you like some, too?”

“That would be great.” Always so polite and ladylike, she never ceased to amaze him. “Go sit in the kitchen, while I wash up.”

“Just take your time. I’m in no hurry.” She headed toward the kitchen, her rubber-soled shoes a whisper on the polished wood floor.

The husky lilt of her sultry voice wrapped around him like silk. There wasn’t much about her that didn’t ring his bells. Riley watched her sway down the long hallway to the kitchen.

When she disappeared into the kitchen, he raced up the stairs two at a time. He ran to the end of the hall and into his bedroom, peeling off his sweaty coveralls and thinking if he was stealthy enough he could con her into an impromptu let-me-jump-your-bones dinner.

He took the fastest shower that he ever had. All the while his mind was racing, wondering if he had enough food in the refrigerator in case he could coax her into staying for said sexy dinner. Visualizing the contents of his refrigerator, he frowned. He had four to-go boxes from the diner, since he ate there almost every night. Not a lot to choose from. Nothing he could throw together and impress her with. He hoped green stuff hadn’t grown on them.

Then he remembered he had steaks. New York cuts. Chloe had gone shopping yesterday and brought over a pity basket for him. And they were thawed out. Thank God he was still friends with his ex-wife. He could fire up the grill and he’d be the dinner hero. He could make corn. He always had canned corn because he loved it.

Calm yourself down, boy. You’ll be done before you even started proper.

Checking his face in the mirror, he realized he had a bit of stubble on his chin, but decided just to leave it. Shaving would take too much time. Besides a girl he’d dated a few months back had told him it made him look sexy and wild. Sexy and wild was a good thing. Right? God, what was up with him? He was acting like a lovesick puppy dog.

When he was certain he smelled decent and his hair had been tamed, he went to the closet and yanked a black denim shirt off a hanger. He found his last pair of clean jeans slung over his leather reading chair. He had to make some quality time for laundry, especially since his housekeeper Mrs. Clark wouldn’t be home from visiting her pregnant daughter for another two weeks.

He ran down the stairs barefooted. About halfway down he stopped. Where the hell were his socks and shoes?

“Riley? Where are you?” Nell’s sweet sensual voice saved him from sinking further into thoughts of a past he could never repair.

“Right here.” He entered the bright kitchen.

She leaned against the center island’s butcher block he’d built, beneath the wrought-iron pot holder with the copper pots and pans he’d never learned how to use since he didn’t know to cook. He just liked the way the shiny pots reflected the sun in the morning. “Didn’t mean to take so long.”

She bent slightly and patted Chester on the head. “That’s all right.”

For the first time since she’d walked up his driveway, he wondered why she was here. Probably about the trellis on her house damaged by last week’s freak storm. He’d promised to get to that soon. “Is it the trellis in the backyard?”

Her eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

“The trellis. You remember. Last week. Storm. Trellis.” With his hand, he mimicked the trellis falling down in the wind. “I know I promised to fix it, but things have been…” His voice trailed away.

She smiled sweetly. “No, no. I mean, yes it still needs repair, and I know you’ll get that done, but I didn’t come to discuss the trellis.”

He opened the refrigerator and grabbed the glass pitcher full of sweet tea, the only thing besides scrambled eggs he really could make with any degree of confidence.

He used to be much better at seduction.

He smiled at Nell, who looked away, the color on her cheeks deepening. Don’t rush her. Let her think it was all her idea. “So why are you here?”

Nell tugged at the tight white collar of her pink uniform. “Did you like being an architect?” she asked instead of answering his question. He could see she was nervous and his curiosity grew stronger. What was on her mind?

Riley prided himself on his ability to put women at ease. He set the pitcher on the tiled counter and took two glasses out of the cabinet. He poured iced tea into each glass. “Yes and no. I liked the creativity, but not all the detail work. I like restoring old homes better.” He handed her the glass of tea.

She took a sip. “Did you like living in Chicago?”

He wondered what she was getting at. He watched, fascinated, as her little pink tongue moved slowly over her bottom lip. He caught his breath and gripped the back of the countertop. Have mercy!

“Are you okay?” Nell asked, looking concerned.

Another illicit fantasy flitted through his mind. “Fine. What did you say?”

She sipped her tea and took a moment to set the glass down before looking up at him again. “Did you like living in Chicago?”

He’d hated Chicago and once Chloe had wanted to be close to her aging parents he’d been happy to leave. “Not really. I’m a small-town boy at heart.” Forcing himself to let her take the lead was killing him. Let’s just jump on the dining room table and get to the fun stuff. Though he knew that would never happen no matter how he prayed for it. Nell Evans wasn’t the type of girl to jump into any man’s bed.

She took a deep breath, showing off her voluptuous breasts at their very best. “I want to ask you if you would do something for me.”

Riley raised an eyebrow. Here it comes. He looked deep into the chocolate-brown eyes that had haunted his innermost fantasies for most of his life. He could deny her nothing. “Anything.”

“Would you teach me about sex?”

Chapter 2

Okay, Nell thought, at the look of shock on Riley’s face. Maybe the direct approach wasn’t the wisest choice of action. As Riley continued to remain silent, his hand wrapped around the empty glass, astonishment showed on his face and in his deep brown eyes.

Her confidence began to deteriorate. Somehow, in the cold light of day, the idea she’d had in the deep of the night didn’t seem logical anymore. She’d been dreaming about the future and realized she had her future in the palm of her hand. She could finally, after so many years, make her dream a reality. She could finally go to New York, go back to school to become something other than poor, old, boring inexperienced Nell. But how was she going to fulfill her aspirations of being the quintessential New York City sophisticate if she was still a virgin?

Riley blinked at her a couple of times, then shook his head and screwed his finger in his ear. “Would you say that one more time for me?”

Wiping damp palms on her uniform, she swallowed the lemon-sized lump in her throat. She knew Riley wasn’t attracted to her. He liked pretty women. Thin women. Women who had perfected the art of conversation.

“I was wondering if…” she said in a timid tone. “Well, if you could…teach me how…” She stared at her shoes, noticing she had a spot of country gravy on the left tip and a smear of what looked like peanut butter on the right one. “About sex?”

He just stood there with his mouth open, staring at her as though he couldn’t believe her. She didn’t blame him. He had some of the most beautiful women in three states lining up to seduce him. Why would he even entertain the notion of making love to her?

He leaned against the counter, seeming to ponder her words.

Nell had to admit she just liked looking at him. He was tall and well-built, with the grace of a dancer and the movements of a panther. Wide shoulders tapered down to a trim waist and strong muscular thighs. His skin was a lovely shade of light cinnamon and his hair was cut close to his scalp. Little droplets of water still sparkled on the surface of his black hair.

Once upon a time, she’d dreamed about marrying and starting a family with someone like him. But those young-girl dreams had been abandoned as the years crept by and very few men had showed any romantic interest in her. But the times had changed. Now a horde of single men—and a few not-so-single men—were attempting to insert themselves into her life since word had spread about her inheritance. Greed was a huge incentive for any man to ask out a prissy, plain Jane like herself. “Riley, did you hear what I said?”

He slipped a finger under her chin and forced her head up to meet his gaze. “Why?”

The tip of his finger was warm on her skin. She tried to move away, but her feet refused to move. She even attempted to look away, but his eyes held hers. The intensity of his gaze burned her to the spot. “I have several reasons.”

“Name one.”

“Well—” She shouldn’t have come. Instinct told her to back herself away and hope he forgot she’d ever made this silly suggestion.

She took a deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound, her grandmother had always said. “Because I’m going to move to New York City.” Boy, did that sound dumb, but she simply didn’t know what else to say.

He blinked again, and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Oh, boy, she needed to say something else—something that made sense. “And because you’re the only single man in this town who hasn’t been calling me up on the phone, sending me flowers, sending me candy or telling me I’m the most beautiful thing that ever graced the planet now that I’m an heiress and have enough money to keep a good man in comfort. Frankly, that makes me think you like me just because I’m me. And that’s why you would be perfect.” Okay, she’d said it all, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a torrent.

Riley nodded, but didn’t say anything for a few seconds as if he needed to give her words time to sink in and make sense. He took his finger from under her chin. “I do like you for you, but what does moving to New York have to do with you needing to learn about sex?”

How did she explain her big dream without sounding dumb? It all made sense in her head. In New York, she didn’t have to be boring old Nell Evans, diner waitress and granddaughter of the stingiest woman in Mississippi. Nor did she have to be the daughter of the easiest woman in Mississippi—a woman who didn’t even know who of all the men she’d slept with, had been Nell’s father. In New York, Nell could be the woman she wanted to be. The one she knew in her heart she was destined to be. She just didn’t want to go there with her backwoods country ways showing like a ripped hem on her skirt. “I can’t be there and be a virgin.”

His dark eyes widened. “You’re still a virgin?” His voice held an almost reverent tone.

She could feel a tingly heat infuse her cheeks. “Yes.”

“How did that happen?” He ran both his hands over his dark hair. “Or how didn’t it happen?”

Sex hadn’t happened because Nell wasn’t exactly the prettiest or most flirtatious girl in town. Nor was she exactly thin. And it didn’t help that her grandmother knew everyone in town and had had the ability to intimidate a marble statue into staying away from Nell. “Well, no one really ever asked me out, that is until I inherited millions of dollars.”

“You sound a little bitter.”

Yes, she was bitter. She’d spent her whole life in Wayloo and not one man had ever been interested until she became the town’s version of a cash cow. Who wouldn’t be bitter?

Since gossip about the will had spread, she’d been getting phone calls and had been sent flowers from every man in town who had aspirations toward wealth. Including the men who’d laughed at her in high school.

“You’re twenty-five years old, Nell,” he continued. “A fully-grown woman.”

She rolled her eyes. He hadn’t been forced to live in the maximum-security prison her grandmother had called a house, where her every move was accounted for. She had stayed with her grandmother out of guilt and some twisted attempt to win the old woman’s love.

Being a good girl had always earned her the only praise her grandmother had thought to issue. “I know how old I am. And trust me, I know about my lack of a social life.” She had to get out of his house and find herself a large rock to hide under and hope he’d never ever mention her being here. Or what she’d asked of him. Suddenly, the embarrassment was too much for her.

He crossed his arms over his powerful chest and rocked back on his heels. “I did.”

“You did what?”

“Ask you out.” He held up three long fingers. “Three times.”

How could he have been serious? No one paid her any mind. All the boys in the area had only wanted to date the pretty girls and she’d never measured up. Too shy and self-conscious, she’d always felt everyone was laughing at her behind her back. “You weren’t serious.”

She saw no deception in the depths of his velvet-brown eyes, but couldn’t believe for a second he thought she was worthy of a date, much less three of them. “We were ten years old.” She held out her arms. “You couldn’t have been serious.” Nell rubbed her forehead. “Were you?”

“Yes, I was.” He flashed her a wicked grin, showing his perfect white teeth. “When I was ten, I was a serious kinda guy.”

This conversation had taken a turn toward the ridiculous. He had to be pulling her leg. “Riley, that doesn’t count.”

His grin widened. “I asked you to the Sadie Hawkins dance when you were in eleventh grade.”

“You were playing a joke on me.” The year before, Avery Prescott, the mayor’s son, had asked her to the Winter Cotillion. She’d been excited that a boy her grandmother deemed good enough had actually sought her out and asked her to the formal dance. She’d been given permission to accept, but when the night finally arrived she’d been left standing in her baby-pink formal gown on the porch waiting for a date who had never intended to show up.

He shook his head. “I was serious as a heart attack.”

“I guess I was kind of gun-shy. I didn’t believe you.” She still remembered being devastated, and at school the next Monday, she’d discovered herself the victim of a cruel joke that had left all of her classmates laughing at her. From that time on, she’d hidden herself in her books, worked at the diner and taken care of her grandmother, who grew more delicate every year as her heart grew weaker. She decided she simply wasn’t the type of girl men wanted to make time for or go to bed with.

“I also asked you out for dinner about seven months after Chloe and I got divorced and again you turned me down.”

“You have dinner at the diner every night.” Of course she was always working in a restaurant full of other people waiting for their food and didn’t have the kind of time she’d like to spend talking to him. “Why didn’t I have a clue?” she asked that question more for herself than him.

“I’m guessing I wasn’t clear enough.” He leaned against the kitchen counter. “Why are you asking me to teach you about sex?”

She felt the blush start beneath the collar of her uniform and spread upward again. “All the single women in town you’ve been running around with say you’re the best at…you know…doing it.” Not that they’d actually said so directly to her. She’d learned a long time ago that most of the women in Wayloo thought she was invisible and talked freely in front of her when they came to the diner for lunch. But she wisely kept that information to herself. She tended to live vicariously through gossip.

His eyebrows shot up. “They do?”

She nodded, moving closer to him. “I figured you know the tricks. After all, you lived in Chicago for five years. Plus, I don’t have to worry about any of the mushy love junk.”

“Mushy love junk?”

Okay, maybe she shouldn’t have said it exactly that way. It did sound a bit rude and unfeeling. Riley wasn’t acting the way she’d envisioned in her mind. She’d thought he’d be…well…more flattered. “I know you’re not going to fall in love with me and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to fall in love with you.” Almost sure. Deep inside, she’d always had some odd feeling for Riley, but had never really taken it out and examined it. He was just another guy her grandmother had disapproved of, so why waste time on thinking about what-ifs.

“You don’t think you could love me?” he asked.

A woman like her would be a fool even to think about setting her sights on such a man as handsome and as eligible as Riley Martin. Since his divorce, the local gossips whispered that he’d been through almost all the single women in the tri-county area. Sex was in his bag of tricks. “It would be silly, since I’m leaving town as soon as I sell the diner and settle all my business. That’s why you’re so perfect. That and the fact that all the women say you’re very good at…well…you know.” She just couldn’t quite say the word sex. She imagined her grandmother sitting on a cloud looking down at her and being horrified at what Nell wanted.

Pride crossed his face. He reminded her of one of her grandmother’s prize roosters strutting through the backyard. “I’m flattered I rate town gossip.” A frown pulled his face down. “At least, I think I am.”

She set her glass of tea down. “I’m starting to believe that this was a very bad idea. I’ll be going.” She turned to leave, the bitter taste of embarrassment in her mouth. She’d given it a shot and had been shot down.

“Hold on,” Riley said.

Nell stopped, knowing she should keep on going, but curiosity was always a demanding thing. And it always seemed to get the better of her at all the wrong times.

“Nell.” Riley pushed away from the counter. “I didn’t say no.”

Nell’s breath caught in her throat. “No, I guess you didn’t.” He looked so big and solid and his mouth was so soft and inviting. She tried to imagine being kissed by Riley, but all she could remember was Jeremy Hill who’d cornered her in seventh grade and tried to kiss her. His kiss had been wet and totally unromantic.

“No, I didn’t.” He took a step toward her.

Her head said leave one more time, but her feet ignored the command. “Riley, may I ask you a question?”

He hovered over her. “You can ask me anything.” His voice had taken on a tone that sent a shiver through Nell.

She looked him straight in the eye. “Why did you ask me to the Sadie Hawkins dance?”

The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Let’s call it the lure of the forbidden.”

She wasn’t sure exactly what he meant, but she certainly wanted to know, if for no other reason than because she got a warm tingly feeling inside her, as if she was doing something really naughty. “I don’t understand.”

Riley closed the distance between them. “You are the eternal good girl with the hot, sex-kitten body. Why wouldn’t I want to go out with you?”

“I’m chubby.” She interrupted him. Her grandmother had told her so often enough.

His nostrils flared as his gaze traveled over her body. “Never. Voluptuous, stacked, loaded if you want to get crude. Everything is in all the right places and in the right amounts. But then again, girls like you were always off-limits to bad boys like me.”

And he had been a bad boy, riding his old motorcycle around town at all hours of the night with his black leather jacket and that sardonic grin all the girls used to squeal about.

Nell thrilled at his compliment. No one had ever told her such things before. For the first time she felt, well, almost pretty. “My grandmother used to say you’d end up in prison or in a trailer park.”

He grinned. “I was pretty bad, wasn’t I?” A look of pride filled his eyes.

She touched his forearm. His dark skin was corded with the structure of the muscles underneath. Tingles rushed up her fingers. She liked how it felt to connect with him. He was strong, powerful and sturdy, as though he could withstand anything. She hadn’t thought physical contact with a man could be so exciting. The hair on the back of her neck rose as a current of electricity danced through her.

“Was, but not anymore.” The words came out in a breathy tone she didn’t even know she was capable of.

“Well,” he said, “I haven’t taken a joyride in Mr. Anderson’s Pontiac in about ten years.”

She felt a laugh struggle to break free. Mr. Anderson had prized his old Pontiac so highly that every high-school boy tried to steal it for a backcountry joyride. Riley had been one of the few to succeed.

In a strange way she wanted to reassure him that as far as she was concerned he’d proven everyone wrong and she was proud of him. He’d become a nationally respected historical restorationist and had been featured on several PBS shows on historic preservation. The houses he restored were featured in magazines. “But you did something with your life. Something real special.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And you made some very important contributions to preserving this town’s history.” Not that she cared about Wayloo’s history, but some of the houses were just too pretty to let rot.

“You didn’t come here to talk about town history.”

“No,” she said in a breathless tone. “You’re right, I didn’t.”

His deep velvety voice was doing strange things to her. Things she shouldn’t let herself admit. After all, she had been talking to him almost every day for the last few years. Of course, they rarely had conversations outside of the diner. Maybe her grandmother was right. Just the mere mention of the word sex made a woman think strange things and want to throw caution to the wind.

“You came to talk about sex.” His eyebrows jiggled. “With me.”

She wanted to cover her flushed cheeks. She wanted to splash the cool tea all over her face. Focus, she admonished herself. Focus on what you came for, Nell. “Um, yes.”

“Why do you want to know about sex?”

She’d spent her entire life looking at life from the outside. She wasn’t going to be the same little mouse in New York she was in Wayloo. She’d be like those women she saw on television and read about in books. In charge of her life, sophisticated and free. “I want to fit in. When I live in the city.”

“What else do you want to know?”

His question surprised her. She’d already told him what she wanted.

He moved closer. “Do you want to learn how it feels to touch a man?”

She was tired of reading romances, of reading about women who knew so much more than she did. “Yes.”

Riley took another step toward her. “About how it is to kiss a man?”

She could almost feel his body heat. “Yes.” Every nerve ached. Despite the air-conditioning her body temperature rose and one side of her brain wondered why and the other side told her to go along with it.

He took another step closer. “And about how to please a man?”

Nell clasped her hands behind her back lest they stray toward him. “Yes.”

“Do you know what’s going to happen between us?”

She’d watched her share of episodes of Sex and the City. She’d read plenty of books. She wasn’t totally uneducated. In theory she knew what went on between men and woman. The practical part she understood, she just lacked the experience. “I know the basics.” Don’t I sound all worldly and wise?

He hooked his finger in between two buttons of her uniform at the gap that sometimes showed between her breasts. “Book-learnin’is only going to take a girl so far. We’re going to have to sleep together.”

She glanced down at his finger. At this moment the polyester was choking her entire body. “I think I can do that.” Maybe not. She felt as though she should run away and never come back.

He moved her backward until she felt the edge of the counter pushing against her hips. “Just wanted you to know how it’s going to be.”

“You’ll do it?” A thousand different emotions pushed through her until her breath seemed to stall inside and she grew light-headed.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I’ll do it.”

The way he emphasized the word it curled her toes. Nell let out a long breath. The last thing on her list completed. “Well, thank you, Riley.” She slipped sideways and turned to leave. Not that leave was the right word, escape was closer in meaning.

Riley grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. “We haven’t hashed out the details yet.”

Nell bit her lip. “Details?”

Something strange appeared in his eyes that sent a spiral of fire down to her belly so strong she bit her bottom lip. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Her body was so hot she wanted to pour the whole pitcher of cold tea over her head.

Riley pushed her tight against the counter, and she was powerless to stop him, even if she’d really wanted to.

He lowered his head, his mouth touching hers with featherlike gentleness. “Everything important is in the details.”

Nell’s mouth opened under the insistent pressure of his lips. Time stopped. She felt Riley’s hands move up her arms. Heat spiraled outward. Though she understood the biology of love, she didn’t understand the pounding wave of anticipation radiating through her.

His tongue slipped between her lips to caress her tongue. Nell’s eyes fluttered closed. The bottom of her stomach dropped out of her world. His body molded to hers. His broad chest flattened her breasts. Nell grabbed the fabric of his shirt in her fists. She stood on tiptoes and opened her mouth wider. Her first real kiss. The kind of kiss an adult man gave an adult woman. Nothing could have been more perfect.

His long, callused fingers climbed up her shoulders and locked behind her neck. The tips of his thumbs caressed her chin. Heat, desire, need overwhelmed her. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. She didn’t want the moment to end. Her nipples tightened in her too-restrictive bra. She wanted to free her breasts, to touch his bare skin. She knew this was bad, but everything felt so right. Her grandmother had lied. His touch was sheer heaven.

Then Riley lifted his head.

Nell couldn’t breathe as she stared into his dark eyes and saw her own startled-doe look reflected back at her. He looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world.

His mouth tilted into a wicked smile. “I believe we’ve worked out the first detail.”

Nell wanted to touch the spot he’d kissed to capture the hot memory in her hand and keep it forever. “What’s that?”

“To see whether we have chemistry.”

She couldn’t relax, couldn’t make the heat inside her leave. “Do we?”

He grinned. “Oh yeah.”

Good, she thought. Now there was only one question left for her to ask. “When do we get started?”

Chapter 3

Riley picked at his lonely plate of spaghetti. After Nell had dropped her bombshell, he was surprised he’d still ended up alone tonight. Well, maybe that was a good thing. Tomorrow evening would be soon enough to start her education. Hell, he was probably in for a few new things himself.

His head was still reeling. In a short time his boyhood fantasy was about to come true. Nell, naked and willing in his bed. He raised his eyes to Heaven. Thank you, God. He twirled the tomato-paste-covered noodles on his fork. As he lifted the fork he heard a knock on the back door. A second later the door opened. Only one person walked into his house this way—his ex-wife Chloe.

“Riley Francis Martin, what the hell is going on?” The back door slammed and the stained-glass panels rattled.

Gritting his teeth, he waited for the sound of antique glass to hit the handmade Italian marble he’d laid there three weeks ago. “Hello to you, too, Chloe.” He heard her high heels click on the hardwood hallway floor as she made her way to the den. He took a quick look around the room, even though he knew there was nowhere to hide.

He knew her moods, and he felt that he was in for one now.

Riley put down the fork and picked up the television remote control, fighting the urge to hit the volume control to turn up the sound and tune her out, but that wasn’t going to be a safe option. Reluctantly he turned off the Braves baseball game he wasn’t watching anyway and waited to hear from his ex, or, as he sometimes like to call her, the Harbinger of Doom.

Chester gave a low whine, then got up from his doggy bed in the corner and slunk out of the room like the coward he was. His toenails clicked on the floor as he ran out of the den. Chloe and Chester had never been the best of friends even on a good day.

Chloe tapped her way into the den and leaned over his TV tray, gripping the edges tightly. Her dark brown hair swung along the crest of her shoulders. Her pale brown eyes blazed at him. “And just what in the ever-lovin’ hell has gotten into your head?”

Riley shrugged and pointed to the television. “Watching the game and eating dinner.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean.”

Guess that wasn’t the answer she wanted. “Actually, no I don’t.” When in doubt, go for dumb.

Her long red fingernails tapped on the TV tray. “Why are you are turning Nell Evans into your personal sex puppet?”

Okay, now he knew what had gotten her knickers into a twist. He sat back in his chair, knowing he was in trouble and wanting to get out of face-slapping distance. Chloe had never hit him during their marriage, but there was always a first time—and he was pretty sure she was close to reaching her boiling point. “How did you find out?”

Chloe straightened up and flipped her hair back. “Nell told me everything.”

Riley cringed, his stomach roiling This was not good. “She did?”

“She even asked me to go shopping with her in New Orleans. She wants the works. A new wardrobe, a new hairstyle and a new face.”

Oh, God! How could Nell tell his ex-wife? “She really told you?”

Chloe crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on her arms. “When a girl like Nell decides to get herself a new image, there is a reason behind it besides falling into a lot of money. I weaseled an explanation out of her. One that would curl the hair of the most jaded of people.”

You mean you got out the velvet-covered rubber hoses, he thought. When she wanted info, Chloe could be merciless. “You didn’t hurt her, did you?”

She sneered at him. “That would be worse than kicking a puppy.”

Maybe so, but Chloe was going to ruin Nell. He could just picture her in makeup, fake nails and dyed hair. Not that Chloe wasn’t one of the most beautiful women in the universe, but Nell was perfect the way she was. He didn’t want another beauty queen, he wanted Nell. “Don’t help her. Please. I like her the way she is.”

“She wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She spread her arms in a dramatic gesture. “She thinks I can help her craft a whole new sophisticated image for the Big Apple. She said spare no expense. How could I turn down something like that?”

Yeah, so she can look sexy for some other guy. That didn’t sit well with him. “Damn.”

Now the hands went to her hips. “Don’t you dare hurt her. She’s not like your usual women. She doesn’t understand the rules of the game.”

Not his rules. Nell seemed to be playing by her own set of rules. Rules he was willing to play by for one taste of her sweetness. Rules he’d bend in a heartbeat. Hell, he’d run naked down Main Street coated in honey and pickle juice if she wanted him to. “Chloe, she came to me for help. How could I turn down an offer like that?”

“She is like a woman possessed.” Chloe paced the den, then stopped and stared at him.

“Tell me about it,” he agreed.

“I think she wanted to ask about the intimate details of our marriage.”

Pain shot through his head like a bullet. He pinched the bridge of his nose. What had he gotten himself into? “Don’t say anything about how things were between us.”

A sly grin appeared on her full red lips. “Trust me, your secrets are safe with me. Nobody would believe me anyway.”

He might have started out that way, but once he understood the game and learned all about peak performance, his abilities had improved tremendously. “Gee, thanks.”

“Grow up, Riley.” She sat down. “Why did you agree to this?”

Now, how did he tell his ex-wife about fantasies over another woman that had been in his head since he’d formally been introduced to his hormones? Despite all the things that had gone wrong between them, he and Chloe had never lied to each other about anything. They’d married because Chloe had gotten pregnant with Benjy. They’d had a good marriage as marriages go, but it had been built on their son, not on love for each other. “It just sort of came up.”

Chloe rubbed her eyes. “I can ask this because we have a lot of history together, and we’re better together as friends than we ever were as husband and wife. You have always secretly lusted after Nell, haven’t you?”

Chloe had the wonderful gift of being able to cut through the bullshit, no matter what. He’d always figured he’d hidden his Nell-lusting pretty well. He’d been faithful to Chloe no matter what he might have wanted to do. That was what real men did, but what did a man say in a situation like this? Denial was right there on his tongue. “Well…”

Chloe held up her hand. “You don’t have to spare my feelings. Honey, I’ve seen the way you stare at Nell sometimes. Half the time you could trip over your tongue like a lovesick boy. She’s a sweet, beautiful woman. You could do a lot worse. I don’t know how you’re going to let her go when she’s done with you.”

“She’s not really looking for forever. And neither am I. I’m not good at long-term anymore. If I was I’d still be your husband.”

Chloe suddenly looked sad as old memories filled her eyes. “I know if Benjy hadn’t died we’d still be together. I never deluded myself about our relationship. Neither did you. We made the best out of a confusing situation. When the unthinkable happened, we didn’t have enough love for each other to keep the bitterness away. Maybe if we’d had other children we could have kept going. I’m not good at living in the past, I like to keep moving forward.”

“You think your being so understanding makes me feel better? I can’t…I wish…” He floundered for words. Pain still raged through him. Pain that never seemed to leave him or lessen. He could go on with everyday life but, damn, the raw hurt never went away. “I should have been…I didn’t know how to be there for you. You were so—”

She shook her head. “I didn’t know how to be there for you either. No one is at fault. Passion is a great thing, and we had that to spare. But it wasn’t enough to keep us together. Stop letting his death eat you up. You’re still alive. He was killed by a drunk driver. We did everything right. We had him for four years. That’s more than a lot of people get.” Tears filled her eyes and she impatiently brushed them away with the back of her hand.

He knew she was right, but letting himself not feel beyond the surface seemed safer. He wasn’t like her. She had a lot in her heart. Every bit he had was taken up by his son. And when Benjy had died, he’d closed himself off to everything. “How come you’re the smart one?”

She dropped her fist on his knee. “I’m an ex-beauty queen. All that mascara stimulated my brain cells.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot.”

As she stood, she wiped a tear away from her cheek. “If you hurt Nell, I promise I’ll gut you.” Her chin went up. “And I won’t be quick about it.”

He had no doubt Chloe meant every word. He didn’t want to hurt Nell. As she’d said, damaging Nell would be worse than kicking a puppy—it would be stomping the poor thing in the head. “Nell is safe with me.”

“Be ready at nine on Saturday morning. You are going to the land of the enemy.”

A sharp, cold chill ran up his spine, and he could smell his own fear. He had never gone shopping with Chloe when they’d been married and he sure as shit wasn’t about to go now they were divorced. “What do I know about women’s clothes?” Okay, he was good at getting them off. And paying for them. That was the extent of his expertise and he planned to keep it that way.

“Trust me. You know plenty.” She hooked a thumb toward his bulging magazine rack in the corner next to Chester’s bed. “And don’t try and hoodwink me, I know you have your own subscription to the Victoria’s Secret catalog.”

I’m so busted. He hoped he looked a little bit ashamed, but he didn’t think so. “That may be so, but I’m still not going with you.”

“You damn well are coming. I’m not the one she’s hoping to impress. I’m not about to make over your sex puppet all by myself.” She smiled. “I’m not that good.”

What the hell did he know about dressing a woman. “I don’t know about that crap. Take Mario.” Mario, an old high-school friend of them both, owned a fashion boutique the next town over.

“You are a straight man. You know what other straight men like. Mario is wonderful, but given no firm direction, he’ll dress the poor thing like a drag queen. I want your help on the clothes.”

“Damn. I knew this was going to get way too complicated.”

Chloe leaned on the doorjamb and crossed her arms. “I should have figured out long ago why you liked me to dress up as a waitress, as opposed to a French maid or a candy striper.”

He was a guy, what did she expect? The heat of embarrassment crept up his face. The naughty waitress was his favorite fantasy. “I plead the fifth.”

She pursed her lips. “I didn’t make the connection until after our divorce when you started hanging around the diner every day for lunch and dinner. But there is one good thing about this.”

“What?”

Pushing away from the doorway she shrugged. “At least you never called me by her name.”

She had always been a woman who could be direct no matter if she hurt his feelings. But that statement was particularly low. “That’s cold, Chloe.”

“I call it like I see it.” She saluted him. “And we’re taking your Escalade. I’m driving. You’d better have it detailed.” She whirled around and tapped her way toward the back door.

Chloe was right, he did get to have one of his major sex fantasies fulfilled, although he didn’t want to think about making sweet virginal Nell into his personal sex puppet. Especially since she planned to take her act on the road. Somehow the thought of her leaving so soon was not sitting well with him.

Sitting back in his easy chair, he swallowed the acid in his throat.

Nell had been surprised when the phone rang and Riley had called to say he would be right over. When they had parted earlier in the day, she’d thought he would take some time to really think about her offer, but here he was on his way.

She’d taken a quick shower, put on her prettiest skirt and white cotton blouse, then rushed around the living room straightening pillows and pushing a feather duster over every little knickknack and her grandmother’s antique clock on the mantel over the fireplace. Her grandmother had loved the clock and for a second Nell felt a storm of tears brewing at the sides of her eyes. She wouldn’t cry, not anymore. She needed to move forward.

She heard Riley’s car pull up into the driveway. She gave herself one last look in the mirror as she tossed the feather duster into a drawer. From the drawer, she pulled out a small spiral-bound notebook and pen and set it where she could easily find it. She’d bought the notebook at Doolittle’s after she’d left Riley. If she was going to learn so many new things, she needed to take notes.

The doorbell rang and Nell checked her breath and then opened the door to find him leaning against the jamb looking so masculine he sent heat racing through her like a summer thunderstorm. Her heart pounded at the look in his face and she stood aside to let him in.

Riley walked in looking big and male and out of place among her grandmother’s dark wood furniture. His sheer masculinity just made everything smaller. Nell felt as if she were violating some sacred temple as she looked around her grandmother’s small tidy house and tried not to think about what she and Riley were about to do. But Riley had insisted that she would be more comfortable in her territory.

The black shirt and tight jeans fitted over every muscle of his body. Her heart fluttered. She wished she didn’t feel so anxious.

Sex was a biological function like breathing or eating, right? What was the great mystery? Wiping her damp palms on her yellow-and-black floral skirt, she took a deep calming breath. The less nervous she was the more likely she was going to be a better student.

She’d only admit it to herself, but he could take her breath away like no other man ever could. In a way, he was what she always thought a real man should be. Clean, strong and a bit rough around the edges—everything her grandmother had warned her about for years. Where these bad-girl thoughts had come from was a mystery to her. All she knew for certain was that she wanted to be very, very bad. With Riley. “What should we start with?”

The corner of his mouth went up. “Touching. Men love to be touched.”

Her bottom lip trembled. She could think of nothing else but the kiss she and Riley had shared. She hadn’t expected the kiss to be so intense or so passionate. Her nerves tingled with anticipation. He took her hand and placed it on his chest. Slowly she touched him, feeling the hardness of his muscles, the heat of his skin, the texture of the cotton shirt.

She could feel him breathing, his broad chest rising and falling. Until now she’d never thought of a man’s body as a thing of beauty, but Riley was glorious. The tip of her finger grazed the fabric of his shirt and her throat went dry. Her hand began to tremble.

She was so excited. She felt so naughty and wicked and almost immoral. She tried not to think about Pastor Willis and his sermons. She was about to do everything her grandmother and Pastor Willis had warned her was bad.

“Come on, Nell,” Riley said softly, “you can do better than this.”

She licked her dry bottom lip, but didn’t proceed any further. She was too afraid to do the wrong thing. “I don’t know how.”

Riley gripped her wrist. “Let me show you.” He forced her hand flat against the wall of his chest and covered her hand with his.

His strong, callused fingers were rough on her hot skin. The longer he held on the more she wanted. She placed the other hand on his chest, right over his heart. Under her hand, his heart raced.

He took a sharp breath.

Feeling a sense of freedom, she let herself explore him. “I’ve never seen a naked man before.” Did those words really come out of her mouth? Her voice sounded strange.

“Don’t you have Internet?” he asked.

She did now. She’d had DSL put in the week after her grandmother had passed. “Well yes, but, you know, the FBI can track where you’ve been on those sites and I don’t want that on my record.” Somehow her grandmother would have found out.

He chuckled. “We’ll have to change that, won’t we?”

His low seductive laugh rolled over her, curling her toes. Nell clenched her knees together to stop their shaking. She didn’t think he was asking a question. Nor did she care. “Yes. Please.”

He lowered her hands to her side. Then he started to unbutton his shirt.

This wasn’t how she wanted to do this. She wanted to undress him herself and discover his body in her own way. Nell grabbed his wrists. His muscles flexed under her hand. “No, I want to undress you.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she was shocked that she’d said them.

Riley raised an eyebrow. “I’d like that.”

She couldn’t help herself, she giggled. “Do most men like a woman undressing them?”

“I like a woman who lets me know what she wants.”

“Why?”

“Because that means they’re as excited about going to bed with you as you are about them.”

Okay, she thought, I can do that. Nell let go of his wrists. His hands dropped to his sides. Her stomach fluttered with excitement and anticipation. There was a languid achy feeling between her thighs. She was a bit disconcerted about her body’s reactions. To go from zero to red-hot inferno had to be bad. But she didn’t care. One part of her felt as if she was abandoning everything her grandmother had taught her about what was proper. She’d heard the stories of her mother’s too-easy reputation and tried all her life to be different from that. Deep down inside, maybe she was more like her mother than she believed she was. The thought didn’t make her feel naughty as she suspected it would. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m excited.”

“Me, too.” Nell freed the top button of his shirt. His skin was a smooth earthy bronze color. He was warm and alive. The aching in her body became more fierce as she unfastened the next button.

“Nell, before we go any further, I want to make one thing perfectly clear to you.”

That this was real. She already knew that. “What?”

“If at any time you want to stop, we stop.”

He didn’t have to say that. She knew she could trust him with her body. “I know.”

“Not just with me, but with any man. Promise me you won’t waste your time on a man you can’t trust.” He reached up and touched her cheek.

Nell rubbed her face against his palm. She drew from his strength. He knew how to comfort a woman and make her feel safe. “I promise.”

Nell undid another button and pulled the hem of his shirt out of his jeans. She pushed the fabric aside to reveal his wide shoulders. He shrugged out of the shirt and she leaned back to look at the smooth expanse of his chest. He was beautiful. The shirt dropped from her cold fingers to the rug, landing near his feet.

She raised her eyes to him again, and saw that his entire body was sculpted like a Greek statue, all corded muscles and six-pack abs. His skin was smooth and a rich cinnamon-brown that made her gasp. No statue, he was alive and hot, not cold marble. His chest rose and fell with every breath. His nipples, small and brown, were like hard pebbles. Carefully she reached up and touched one nipple with the tip of her finger.

Riley sucked in a quick breath and Nell felt a surge of power. This was better than unwrapping her presents on Christmas morning. Nell glanced down at the telltale bulge in his jeans. Pride swelled inside her. She, plain old Nell, could make a man feel desire.

Riley leaned forward until his mouth was less than an inch from her ear. “That’s what you do to me, Nell. What you’ve always done to me.”

She met his smoldering gaze, silently thanking him, but not sure if she completely believed him. “I want to see you naked.”

His mouth curved into a smile. “You say the sweetest things.”

She’d never felt so bold in all her life. Something about the twinkle in his eyes, the wicked smile that just made her feel so darn comfortable and more importantly…confident. “You make me feel very naughty.” Naughty and wicked and any number of things. She hoped her grandmother wasn’t sitting on a cloud looking down and watching her.

“Good for me.” He ran a hand up her arm to her neck and the line of her jaw.

She wanted to purr. The feel of his fingers on her skin sent a shiver through her that made her want to curl her toes and fall back on the sofa. Her hands went to the waistband of his jeans. “I didn’t think I’d ever be so bold.” Not with any man. So few men had ever been in her life.

He started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” she asked impatiently.

He looked down at his feet. “I’m just really glad I took off my socks and shoes.”

She opened her mouth to ask why.

Riley winked at her. “It will make it easier for you to get my pants off.”

She covered her smiling mouth with her fingers, refusing to be shocked. Refusing to let all her grandmother’s rules about dates and men rush through her head. Flinging caution to the wind, she ran a questing finger across the round bulge of his jeans. “I see what you mean.”

“Come on, Nell. Take off my pants. See what you do to me.”

The metal button on his jeans gave her a little resistance, but she finally managed to unbutton it. The jeans fell open and she slipped her hands inside the waistband to caress the smooth skin of his hips. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. How very improper—and so very sexy.

She thought of her own little-old-lady underwear—cotton panties and a plain cotton bra. She’d have to get new sexy lingerie when she went shopping with Chloe on Saturday. For a second her mind wandered at the thought of sexy fire engine-red thong panties and a matching bra of smooth satin. Maybe blue would be better; she wasn’t a “red” type of girl.

She didn’t realize she’d stopped stroking him until he covered her hand with his.

“Don’t stop now,” he said, his breath coming out in a rush. “I’m enjoying myself.”

“Really?”

“You have very soft hands. I like being this close to you, too. You smell good.”

“Cotton blossom lotion.” Her grandmother had given her a selection of lotions, soaps and perfumes over the years and she’d always been saving them for when she’d need them. Tonight, she knew, was the time to crack the seals on those bottles. “I didn’t want to smell like chicken-fried steak, but you probably don’t want to know that, do you?”

“Chicken-fried steak isn’t so bad, but I’m pleased you went with cotton blossom. I like a lot of things about you.” He gently nibbled at her ear.

Heat started in her nipples and spread in ever-widening circles around her breasts. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

He pushed a stray tendril off her cheek. “Trust me, it’s my pleasure.”

His low, seductive voice rolled over her. The deep tones stirred her senses. “Not just the sex part, but for making me feel beautiful. Wanted.” For making her feel like a real woman.

“You are beautiful.”

She didn’t quite believe him, as much as she wanted to. “I’m nervous I’ll do the wrong thing.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“I want…” Don’t get shy now, Nell, she chided herself. “I want to do more.” Deep inside her a feeling she didn’t recognize grew and grew.

He guided her hand. “That’s good.” The corner of his mouth lifted.

His words were barely more than a whisper, but they echoed through her head. Nell took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and pushed his jeans down, feeling her knuckles skim across his hips, his thighs, and when she reached his ankles she stood, but didn’t open her eyes. She was so frightened and excited she wasn’t sure if she could speak.

“Look at me, Nell.” Riley’s voice sounded tight and hoarse.

She opened one eye. She was level with his smiling mouth. She opened the other eye, and let her gaze roam down to his strong chin. Then to the corded muscles in his neck. She studied the wide set of his muscular shoulders. He had a little scar just beneath his collarbone and she wondered what had happened. She found another little scar in the crook of his elbow. She glanced down and spied the tip of his erect penis. She bit her bottom lip. Oh! He was so big.

Riley dragged one foot out of his pants then the other, then he kicked them aside. “Touch me, Nell.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere you want. Everywhere you want.”

Nell reached and pressed her hand flat against his chest. She was going to have to work up to touching his penis. Living, breathing muscle contracted under her hand.

She put her other hand on his shoulder. She moved closer and planted a kiss right on his heart. He groaned. Nell felt power radiating from him. She moved her lips over his smooth skin. “You are so beautiful,” she murmured.

“Thank you.” He pulled her close to him, pressing her tightly to his chest. He kissed her, his lips soft, his tongue hard.

Nell felt his penis pressing into her through the light cotton material of her skirt. The moist heat stunned her. A flood of emotions raged inside her. Finally, she thought, she would know what other women knew, feel what other women felt.

Nell’s hands roamed over his body. She licked his skin, loving the salty taste of him. Riley trembled as she ran her fingers down the smooth skin of his back and then around his hips to the heat of his penis. She loved the feel of the smoothness in her hand. In all her life, she’d dreamed and wondered what a man felt like, and the reality exceeded all her dreams.

Nell giggled, feeling wanton and feminine. Had she known this would be so intoxicating, she would have found a man a long ago time, despite her grandmother’s warnings that men weren’t to be trusted.

She wanted to touch Riley everywhere. With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she reached out and touched the tip of his hard penis and jerked back, surprised. The skin was velvety hot and silky smooth and slightly moist. As she curled her hand around him and stroked from base to tip, a moaning sigh escaped his lips. What had she been missing? Apparently a whole lot.

She wasn’t certain what she’d expected, but she found herself thinking about the sex education classes she’d had, and she realized how inadequate they had been. The classes had not even prepared her for the most basic of her emotions. The clinical aspect of sex was one thing, but the reality was far different.

She cupped him in both hands, running her palms down the sides. His penis seemed to jerk in her hand as if it had a mind of its own.

This is what women yearned for. She wrapped her fingers around him. Her eyes closed as she tried to imagine them making love, him on top of her, being touched by him, invaded by him. Her mouth opened, her breathing became labored.

“Nell?”

She looked up at him, letting go of his penis. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“The doorbell.”

She looked toward the front door. It might be rude, but she wasn’t home.

Before he could respond, the doorbell rang again. “Don’t answer,” he said, his voice harsh.

She smiled at him. “I don’t intend to.” Not for anything would she interrupt this session. If it was another floral arrangement from someone in town, the florist could leave the arrangement. If it was someone else, that person could come back when they realized she wasn’t going to answer.

The front door crashed open. “Hello?”

Nell froze with her fingers still wrapped around Riley’s penis.

“Nell, honey,” came a once-familiar trilling voice. “It’s Mama. I’m home.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.