The Hot-Headed Virgin. Trish Morey

come true to see my Bryn happily married. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I do so want to be there on your special day if it’s at all possible.’

      ‘I want you to be there too,’ Mia said, swiping at an escaping tear.

      Bryn slipped his arm around her waist and drew her closer as he addressed his great-aunt. ‘We’ll let you know as soon as we have a date set.’

      ‘Thank you, darling…I’m sorry to be such a bother.’

      Bryn stooped down to kiss his great-aunt’s cheek. ‘You could never be a bother. Now, have a good rest and I’ll see you later.’

      Mia slipped out of Bryn’s embrace to kiss his elderly relative, her eyes bright with tears as she straightened. ‘It was lovely to meet you.’

      ‘You have made me so very happy,’ Agnes said. ‘I cannot think of a more wonderful partner for Bryn.’

      Mia was blubbering uncontrollably by the time they got back to where Bryn had parked his car. She began to hunt for a tissue when he pressed a clean white handkerchief into her hand, his expression thoughtful as his dark blue eyes met her streaming ones.

      ‘I’m sorry…’ she choked out. ‘I just can’t help it…’

      ‘It’s all right,’ he said and drew her up against him, his hand going to the back of her head to bring her head to his chest.

      ‘It’s just so sad…’ she sniffed. ‘I don’t know how you can bear it…it reminds me of when my granny died…I still feel emotional every time I see someone with grey hair and it’s been seven years.’

      Bryn kept stroking his fingers through her hair, his chest feeling a little strange as he breathed in the fragrance of her light but unforgettable perfume.

      Mia lifted her head to look up at him, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen and her bottom lip still trembling with emotion. ‘I feel so guilty lying to her…I know you’re going to think this is really weird, or dumb even, but I wish we had fallen in love…’ She gave another little sniff and added, ‘I wish this was really true and not just an act.’

      Bryn stared down at her uptilted face and felt another gear shift in his chest. Something warm and indefinable began to slowly spread and then fill him inside as he thought about being loved for real by her.

      The only person he had ever felt truly loved by since he’d lost his parents was his great-aunt. The truth was, he hadn’t always been that lovable. Although he’d always denied it, he had been seriously traumatised by his parents’ death. He had never been able to find it within himself to forgive the person responsible for taking his parents from him.

      He’d been a lonely, angry child and his behaviour throughout his childhood and adolescence had been nothing short of deplorable. Even as an adult he’d been selfish and arrogant, riding roughshod over people with a ruthless disregard for their feelings. To a very large degree his bad-boy image had propelled him into the success he’d experienced and most of the time he played it to the hilt. The public expected him to be cutting and sarcastic, it was his trademark, but it wasn’t who he really was or indeed who he really wanted to be.

      ‘Does this mean you’ve decided to go ahead with our marriage?’ he asked after a little pause.

      ‘I don’t see how I can possibly say no,’ she answered somewhat grimly. ‘Agnes is dying…it seems so unfair not to grant her this last wish, even if it is all an act.’ She bit her lip and then released it to add uncertainly, ‘I guess I can see it through for a week or two…’

      ‘We have to see this through, Mia, no matter how compromised each of us feels. I don’t want her to know this is all an act. It would destroy her.’

      ‘I know…’ she said and eased herself out of his embrace. ‘I just feel uncomfortable…I’m being paid to be your wife. It just seems so…so…you know…terribly tacky.’

      ‘You’re thinking too much,’ he said as he unlocked the car. ‘It’s just money and I have plenty, so you don’t need to worry on that score. Think of it as any other acting job. I’m sure every actor has been assigned roles that aren’t quite to their taste, but they do it for the money.’

      Mia frowned as she got in and fastened her seat belt. It wasn’t the money she was really worried about, she knew he had plenty and what he was paying her would hardly make a dent in it, and it would certainly solve her sister’s dilemma. It was what he couldn’t give her that worried her more. She was being paid to pretend to love a man she had previously thought unlovable, but somehow as he’d held her a few moments ago she had felt a tiny flicker of something deep inside, as if something was trying to make its way out to the surface but was being blocked in some way.

      She sneaked a glance at him as he drove out of the car park. His expression was mostly inscrutable except for the tiny glitter of sadness she thought she could see in his dark eyes. But, as if he sensed her looking at him, he reached for his sunglasses on the dashboard and put them on his face and she was shut out once more.

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      THE next few days passed in a whirlwind of activity that left Mia spinning. There was legal work to be dealt with and, although she felt uncomfortable signing documents that were so legally binding, she did it for the sake of Bryn’s great-aunt. She just couldn’t stop thinking about the older woman’s life coming to an end and how it would impact on Bryn. She was his last living relative. Once she died there would be no one else but him. His final link with his parents would be gone.

      As far as she could tell he had spoken to no one about his dying relative. Jocey Myers had only found out by a quirk of fate. There had been nothing mentioned in any of the newspaper articles about Agnes Dwyer’s role in his life and certainly no mention of the tragic loss of his parents when he was a child. She wondered if he did it deliberately, as Jocey had suggested, to keep his hard-as-nails image in place or whether there was some other reason.

      The Press went wild when the news broke of their impending marriage; requests for interviews flew thick and fast and wherever she went paparazzi followed, hoping for a candid shot of Bryn Dwyer’s intended bride.

      It made Mia totally rethink her life-long dream to be famous. Now fame was becoming a reality she found she hated it. She couldn’t do the most basic things without being followed; even going for her morning run or thrice-weekly visits to the gym became an exercise of subterfuge in order to escape the intrusion of journalists and cameras.

      Bryn, on the other hand, seemed to take it all in his stride. He insisted they dine out regularly and she was forced to put on a bright smile and accompany him to yet another high-profile restaurant.

      ‘I don’t know how you stand this,’ she said at the end of the second week of their engagement. They were in a harbourside restaurant and had only been seated for three minutes when a rush of fans had come up for autographs and impromptu phone-camera photos.

      ‘It’ll soon pass,’ he reassured her. ‘Once we’re married they’ll leave us alone.’

      ‘I certainly hope so…’ She toyed with the stem of her glass agitatedly as the maître d’ ushered the last of the lingering diners back to their tables.

      Bryn gave her a quizzical look. ‘I thought your goal in life was to be famous. Isn’t that what every actor wants?’

      She let out a tiny sigh. ‘There’s fame and there’s fame. I guess I didn’t really think about it too much…you know…how it would be if I ever made it into the big time.’

      ‘How long have you wanted to be an actor?’ he asked.

      He watched as her mouth tilted engagingly, his chest feeling that little fish hook tug again. ‘I think I was about four or five years old,’ she said. ‘I’m a middle child and apparently I was always trying to be the centre of attention. It was the Christmas pageant when I was in kindergarten that finally decided it for me. I was cast as the front end of a donkey