The Hot-Headed Virgin. Trish Morey

      She’s feisty and independent – but he rouses a powerful passion in her…

      The Hot-Headed Virgin

      Three sizzling, compelling romances from three favourite Mills & Boon authors!

      In May 2010 Mills & Boon bring

      you two classic collections, each

      featuring three favourite romances

      by our bestselling authors

       CLAIMED BY THE SICILIAN

      by Kate Walker

       Sicilian Husband, Blackmailed Bride The Sicilian’s Red-Hot Revenge The Sicilian’s Wife

       THE HOT-HEADED VIRGIN

      The Virgin’s Price by Melanie Milburne The Greek’s Virgin by Trish Morey The Italian Billionaire’s Virgin by Christina Hollis

      The Hot-Headed Virgin

      Melanie Milburne

      Trish Morey

      Christina Hollis

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      The Virgin’s Price

      by

Melanie Milburne

      Melanie Milburne says: One of the greatest joys of being a writer is the process of falling in love with the characters and then watching as they fall in love with each other. I am an absolutely hopeless romantic. I fell in love with my husband on our second date and we even had a secret engagement, so you see it must have been destined for me to be a Mills & Boon author! The other great joy of being a romance writer is hearing from readers. You can hear all about the other things I do when I’m not writing and even drop me a line at: www. melaniemilburne.com.au.

       Don’t miss Melanie Milburne’s exciting new novel, The Mélendez Forgotten Marriage, available in July 2010 from Mills & Boon® Modern™.

      To my sisters, Coralie Margaret McNamara

      and Jessie Isobel Bohannon. Thank you for your love

      and support over the years. I love you both very dearly.

      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘I CAN’T believe he wrote that about me!’ Mia threw the morning’s newspaper down in disgust, her grey eyes flashing with rage. ‘It’s the first real acting job I’ve had and he completely rubbishes it. My career will be over before it even starts.’

      ‘I wouldn’t take it too personally,’ Shelley said as she reloaded the café dishwasher. ‘Bryn Dwyer rubbishes just about everything. Did you hear him on drive-time radio yesterday? He made a complete fool of the person he was interviewing. It’s how he gets the ratings he does. You either love him or you hate him.’

      ‘Well, I hate him,’ Mia said with feeling. ‘I just wish I could have the chance to tell him to his arrogant, stuck-up face.’

      ‘Yeah, well, you never know your luck,’ Shelley said as she placed the washing powder in the compartment of the dishwasher. ‘He was in here three mornings in a row last week, each time with a different woman. You should have seen the way Tony gushed all over him as if he was royalty. I nearly puked.’

      ‘In here?’ Mia’s eyes began to sparkle with hope. ‘Bryn Dwyer?’

      Shelley straightened from the dishwasher. ‘Listen, Mia, just remember you’ve only just started and Tony only gave you the job in the first place because I put in such a good word for you. If you so much as—’

      ‘One cappuccino and a double decaf latte on table seven.’ Tony Pretelli, the café owner, slapped the order on the counter and scooped up a plate of raisin toast on his way past. ‘And make it snappy. Our favourite celebrity is here again this morning.’

      ‘Uh-oh,’ Shelley said as she took a quick peek over the counter.

      ‘Who is it?’ Mia asked as she peered over Shelley’s shoulder. She whistled through her teeth when she caught a glimpse of a tall man with dark brown shiny hair and broad shoulders sitting chatting to an attractive brunette. ‘Well, I’ll be damned.’

      Shelley grabbed her by the arm. ‘Don’t even think about it, Mia. You know what Tony’s like. He’ll fire you on the spot if you do anything to upset a customer, celebrity or not.’

      Mia unpeeled the waitress’s fingers and, giving her a sugar-sweet smile, reached for the coffees the barista on duty had just made. ‘I think I’ll risk it just this once. Anyway, it will be worth it to get back at that pompous jerk for giving me such a bad review.’

      Shelley winced as Mia swept past with the coffees. ‘I don’t think I can watch this…’

      Mia sauntered up to the table where Bryn Dwyer was seated with his back to her. It was a very broad back, she couldn’t help noticing, and even though he was wearing a pale blue business shirt she could see the bunching of well-developed muscles through the expensive fabric. His shirt cuffs were rolled up at the wrists, revealing tanned forearms sprinkled with dark masculine hair, and an expensive silver watch on his left wrist. His hair was neither long nor short or straight or curly but somewhere in between, and was styled in a casual manner that suggested his long, tanned fingers had been used as its latest combing tool.

      She didn’t need to see his face; it had been splashed on the cover of just about every women’s magazine for the past month as for the second year in a row he had been awarded the Bachelor of the Year title. His prime-time radio slot and popular weekly column in a Sydney broadsheet gave him the sort of fame and fortune most people only ever dreamed of, but even without that, he was a multimillionaire from some clever property investments he’d made all before he’d hit thirty-two or -three years or so ago.

      Mia gave her reflection a quick glance in the mirrors above the booth section of the café on her way past, reassuring herself that he couldn’t possibly recognise her from last night’s performance. With her shoulder-length blonde hair scraped back in a high pony-tail and no make-up on she looked just like an ordinary café waitress. She gave a mischievous little smile as she mentally rehearsed an Irish accent; even better—a visiting-from-abroad café waitress.

      ‘Top of the mornin’ to you both. Now, what do we have here—a cappuccino and a double skinny decaf?’ she lilted cheerily, as she hovered by Bryn’s elbow.

      ‘Mine is the decaf,’ the brunette woman said with a friendly smile.

      Mia reached over to place it in front of her and then turned to the woman’s dark-haired companion, who hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge her presence. ‘And what is it that you will be having, sir?’

      ‘The