The Last Virgin. Dorie Graham

chanted his mantra.

      She’s a virgin.

      “Do you like working with Cliff?” She took a sip of water, then used her napkin to blot a stray droplet from her chest.

      Noah forced his gaze away. “It’s great.” Still holding the knife, he drew circles on the linen tablecloth with its end.

      She’s a virgin.

      “Oh. So, do you like being back in Atlanta?”

      “It’s fine.”

      “You miss Denver, then?”

      “Not really.”

      “Well, I should warn you, this has been an unusually pleasant spring. For the last couple of years, the pollen seems to have gotten much heavier. I keep inside for days when the pines are in bloom.”

      He nodded and slipped the butter knife back onto his bread plate. Stephen approached with her glass of wine. Without so much as a glance in Noah’s direction, he set the glass before her. He straightened, remaining beside her chair as she took a tentative sip.

      “Mmmm, yes, that’s perfect.” The pink tip of her tongue darted across her lips.

      Stephen leaned closer to her. “And for dinner, may I suggest the roasted duck? It bastes in its own juices, until it’s tender and moist. It is most succulent.”

      Blood roared in Noah’s ears. Was he hearing things, or had the man drawn out the word in a disgusting way? He hovered over Sabrina, and it seemed that he was practically drooling on her. Noah tensed.

      She wrinkled her nose. Even that gesture didn’t distract from her beauty. She had to be the sexiest woman he’d ever come up against. “I don’t know,” she said. “I got sick the last time I ate duck.”

      The waiter pursed his lips. “Perhaps the prime rib?” To Noah’s ears, the waiter’s voice grew husky. “How would you like a great piece of meat?”

      “That’s it!” Noah sprang to his feet, flattening his hands on the table. “Just back off! She’s a vir…go.”

      3

      BLOOD POUNDED in Sabrina’s ears as Noah sank back into his seat. His chair creaked in the sudden silence.

      Stephen ran his hand down the front of his white dress shirt. “I’ll…get you some fresh rolls.” He looked curiously at Noah, then scuttled away without a backward glance.

      Slowly, the tables around them returned to their former buzz. Sabrina stared at her date in stunned silence. He knew. Damn Cliff! Her brother had no right divulging such personal information.

      Heat climbed her neck. Anger and embarrassment warred in her. Was her virginity the reason for Noah’s brusque behavior?

      “I’m…sorry.” Noah heaved out a breath. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

      Not trusting herself to answer, she pursed her lips and counted to ten.

      He had the decency to look embarrassed. “I may have overreacted. I thought he was flirting with you.”

      “Flirting with me?”

      “You should have covered up, like I suggested. Everyone’s been staring….” He stopped as Stephen returned. With careful movements, he presented a steaming basket of soft rolls, then left.

      Sabrina stared after the waiter. If the man had flirted with her, she hadn’t noticed. Even if he had, that didn’t give Noah cause to act like a caveman. He hadn’t exactly paid her any attention.

      She’d tried everything to raise some response in him. Her subtle glances had gone unseen. He’d been unaffected by her rapt attention and open body language. In growing frustration, she’d even brushed up against him. He hadn’t noticed.

      She reached over and fingered the bread basket. “He had no right.”

      “The waiter?” Noah froze with a roll halfway to his plate. “He was flirting?”

      “I meant Cliff.”

      He set down the roll. His gaze met hers. “Oh.”

      Despite the heat in her cheeks, she maintained eye contact. “Let me guess. He found out about tonight and read you the riot act. Of course, he made sure you knew all the facts.”

      Noah stared back at her for another moment, then dropped his gaze to his plate. “It’s no big deal. Your secret’s safe with me. It’s your own business if you want to save yourself for true love.”

      Her heart thudded. “You’re right. It’s my business.”

      “You don’t really believe in all that stuff?”

      “Stuff?”

      He waved his hand in dismissal. “Love and happily-ever-after.” His chair creaked again as he leaned his elbows on the table. “It doesn’t exist, though. I have seen enough relationships crash and burn to know that. This is real life, not some fairy tale.”

      She straightened. Indignation poured through her. How could she have ever thought he was The One? “Maybe to someone whose relationship aspirations peak with a one-night stand, true love is a concept too complex to grasp.”

      “True love is a myth. It’s created by people who aren’t comfortable with lust. Half of all marriages end in divorce. What does that say?”

      “It says half of all marriages work. My parents have been married for over thirty years, and their love is as pure as the day they met.”

      The man had the audacity to laugh. “I’ll tell you what I think. You’re getting defensive here, because deep down you’re afraid I’m right.” He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “You’re not getting younger, your internal clock’s ticking and where’s Mr. Right? Maybe he doesn’t exist.”

      She stared at him in mute outrage.

      He leaned forward. “Look, I hope you find him, really.” His gaze swept her. “He’ll be one hell of a lucky guy.”

      Horrified by the jump in her pulse, she reached for her purse. If she spent one more minute with this man, she’d scream. “I’m not very hungry. Would you mind taking me home?” Craning her neck, she glanced around for their waiter.

      For a moment, Noah looked as if he might argue, then he shook his head and stood. “I’ve got a quick call to make, then we’ll leave.” Without waiting for her to respond, he strode off toward the back of the restaurant.

      SABRINA STARED out the passenger window, ignoring Noah and the strained silence hanging over them. She could not believe she’d thought that he was The One. Noah might look the part of her dream lover, but his qualifications ended there. Her dream lover didn’t think love was just lust in disguise. Despite the physical attraction, she couldn’t possibly consider making love with such a cynic.

      A street sign flashed past. She straightened. “Where are we going? My apartment’s back the other way!”

      His big hands palmed the wheel. He lounged in the driver’s seat, seemingly unaware of the tense atmosphere. Clearly he didn’t realize his rude manners had resulted in the worst date of her life—and the shattering of her fantasy.

      He answered without glancing her way. “I have an errand to run.”

      “An errand?” She stared in disbelief. He’d planned an errand in the middle of their date? “What kind of errand?”

      At last he met her gaze. A surprising mischief lit his dark eyes. “I promised to feed your brother’s dog.”

      “Opal? She’s Mona’s dog.” She folded her arms. This made no sense. “What about that neighbor that looks after her?”

      “Out of town.”

      “Why