The Hot-Headed Virgin. Trish Morey

exactly what I’m discussing. A business proposal.’

      Mia frowned as she tried to take it all in. ‘You mean this won’t really be a real marriage?’

      ‘It will be real in the sense that it will be official and legal. I can’t risk someone uncovering it as a sham but as for us being a normal couple…’ he hesitated for a fraction of a second before adding, ‘well, of course it won’t be real.’

      She moistened her bone-dry lips. ‘So we won’t be…you know…’

      His dark eyes met hers. ‘Having sex?’

      ‘Yes…’

      ‘Not unless you want to.’

      Mia felt her cheeks burning but forced herself to hold his gaze. ‘Of course I don’t want to!’

      His expression was contemplative as he held her gaze for several moments before he responded. ‘Fine; however, I must insist that for the duration of our marriage you refrain from sleeping with anyone else. I wouldn’t want anyone to suspect things are not normal between us if you are seen with someone other than me.’

      She gave him a pointed look. ‘Do I get to insist on the same rule for you?’

      ‘I will do my best to be discreet if the need should arise.’

      ‘Then I insist on the same for myself. I, too, can be discreet.’

      ‘As you wish, but let me tell you if you put one step wrong I will be extremely angry. I don’t want my great-aunt to be upset by any rumours of impropriety.’

      ‘She won’t be upset by me,’ Mia said confidently. ‘At least I don’t have any empty-headed bimbos in my background.’

      He gave her a droll look. ‘As of today I have finished with empty-headed bimbos. You are now, for all intents and purposes, the love of my life, and I expect you to maintain that illusion for as long as is necessary.’

      ‘And I thought my four years at stage school were challenging,’ Mia muttered resentfully.

      ‘The challenging part for you will be controlling your propensity for insulting me at every opportunity.’

      She gave a cynical snort. ‘That’s rich coming from the High Priest of Insults. If you weren’t such a pompous jerk I wouldn’t find it so challenging.’

      ‘If you weren’t such an uptight little cat you would see I’m nothing like the public image I project,’ he clipped back.

      She folded her arms across her chest, her expression full of scorn. ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re really nothing like the Bryn Dwyer the public has come to love and hate. Oh, please. Spare me the violins. Anyone can see you’re a self-serving egotist who would stop at nothing to achieve his ends. This crazy scheme of yours to hoodwink your great-aunt is a case in point. What kind of man would openly lie to a little old lady by marrying a woman he has absolutely no feelings for?’

      ‘I happen to love my great-aunt very dearly and I would do anything to make her last days happy, even if it means temporarily tying myself to a shrill little shrew to prove it.’

      ‘Shrill little shrew, am I, now?’ She glared at him. ‘Well, let me tell you I don’t think too much of you either. You’re hardly what I’d call the ultimate choice in husband material.’

      ‘You don’t have to think much of me,’ he said. ‘All I want you to do is marry me. We’ll sort the feelings end of it out later.’

      ‘I don’t have any feelings where you’re concerned other than unmitigated dislike.’

      ‘Good. You’d be best to keep it that way. I wouldn’t want to complicate things any further with you forming an emotional attachment to me.’

      ‘Where exactly did you go for your ego-enhancement surgery?’ she quipped in return. ‘Was it horrendously expensive?’

      Bryn struggled to hold back his amusement but in the end gave up. His face cracked on a smile. ‘I think you are definitely wasted as a serious actor. You have a real future in comedy.’

      ‘Yes, well, this little farce is definitely running along those lines. You’re asking me to act a role that is totally immoral. Acting in front of an audience is one thing but acting in front of a dying old lady is another. And marriage! It just doesn’t seem right.’

      ‘It will make her happy. That’s all I want.’

      ‘I don’t want to do this, Bryn; you can’t force me.’

      He held her gaze for an uncomfortable pause. Mia felt as if she was being slowly but steadily backed into a tight corner. She even wondered if it had been wise to mention the word force. She could see the steely determination in his darker than night eyes and her stomach felt as if something with tiny clawed feet had just scuttled across it.

      The sudden silence was like a third presence in the room, brooding and somehow menacing, making the fine hairs on the back of her neck lift one by one.

      ‘I’m hoping it won’t have to come to me actually forcing you,’ he said. ‘At this point in time I’m simply asking you to help me bring a small measure of happiness to an old woman who sacrificed her own to raise me. I am willing to pay you well. I know it will be difficult for you. I also know you hate me, but I can’t help feeling you are the one person my great-aunt will take to. She heard us on the radio this afternoon; she already thinks you’re perfect for me. There are plenty of women I could ask to play this role, but I know my aunt well enough to know that the only one she will accept as the real thing is you.’

      Mia tried not to think of how she was going to explain all of this to her family or friends. Instead she thought about an old lady who had sacrificed her life to raise a child who had been devastated by the loss of his parents. She thought too of the little boy of seven who had suffered such a tragic loss. A little boy with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes, a little boy who had become a man who, as far as she could make out, hid his childhood pain behind a façade of cocksure arrogance.

      It wasn’t as if it was going to be a real marriage, she did her best to reassure herself. After all, actors did this stuff all the time. God, how many times had Julia Roberts been married on screen? It meant nothing.

      It was all an act.

      A role to play.

      Temporarily.

      But still…

      ‘Can I have some time to think about it?’ she asked. ‘This is totally surreal. I can’t quite get my head around it.’

      ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘But I’d like you to meet my great-aunt tomorrow; it will perhaps help you to make up your mind.’

      She captured her bottom lip for a moment. ‘What if I don’t agree to marry you?’

      His eyes locked down on hers. ‘Then you’ll be throwing away a fortune.’

      Mia gave a tiny swallow. ‘Exactly how big a fortune?’

      He named a sum that sent a shock wave through her brain. Mia came from a comfortable background and had never really wanted for anything in her life, but the amount of money he was willing to pay was unbelievably generous. The money he’d already given her had helped ease Ellie’s situation fractionally but if she could send her thousands it would mean her sister would be out of danger for good.

      But marrying Bryn Dwyer?

      ‘If you do decide to take up this offer there will be some legal documents to sign,’ he said into the silence, ‘a prenuptial agreement and so forth. And, as I mentioned in the car earlier, as my fiancée I’d like you to wear an engagement ring.’

      Mia watched as he went across the room to where a large painting was hanging. He shifted it to one side as he activated the code on the concealed safe set in the wall and, opening the safe, took out a blue velvet box before closing it