The Billionaire's Virgin Temptation. Michelle Conder

woman. What man wouldn’t want a long-legged, curvaceous honey-blonde woman spread out beneath him, naked and wanting in his bed, those glorious green eyes glazed over with desire, her lips plump and wet from his kisses, her creamy thighs parted for his possession?

      Sam’s body hardened at the images rampaging through his head and softly cursed his wayward libido. No doubt she’d be great in bed. Great in his bed.

      And there was that niggly note of ownership that had given him such pause two years ago. The caveman element that only she drew out of him. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like how effortlessly she drew him to her, or how often he thought about her. He certainly didn’t like how possessive he felt about her. Would one night with her in his bed solve that? Would one night rid him of the powerful pull she seemed to have over him or would it only make it worse?

      Sam’s brooding gaze noticed a hint of lavender drift through the crowd towards the dance floor. Well, there was really only one way to test that theory, wasn’t there? Not that he intended to take her to his bed tonight. He wasn’t that desperate. But he could have a little fun with her, couldn’t he? A little innocent fun just until she recognised him. A smile curved the edges of his lips as he set off towards the dance floor. How long would it take her? One minute? Two?

      Suddenly the evening looked a whole lot more interesting than it had half an hour ago.

       CHAPTER TWO

      ‘I DON’T SEE anyone who looks like a pirate,’ Ruby said as she stood on tiptoe to see over the packed dance floor. ‘Are you sure that director is even here?’

      ‘Katy said he was.’ Molly’s lips tightened determinedly. ‘I have to find him. I’m psyched up to approach him, and who knows when I’ll get another chance like this? It’s not as if I can get a ticket to these kinds of events just by clicking my fingers.’

      Ruby gave her sister a faint smile and tried not to look over her shoulder again for the man in the bronzed mask. She’d felt his eyes on her as she’d all but run from the bar, and she’d been so sure he’d follow her she’d been on tenterhooks ever since.

      ‘I think that’s him,’ Molly whispered, low-level excitement running through her voice.

      Ruby’s stomach lurched. Then she realised that Molly hadn’t meant Sam Ventura’s doppelganger and told herself to stop fretting and breathe. It wasn’t Sam. Sam was in LA.

      She glanced at the man Molly was so set on meeting and did a double take. The director-slash-pirate was big, blonde and fierce-looking. ‘Are you sure that’s him?’

      ‘Almost certain. Let’s dance so I can get closer.’

      ‘You dance, I’ll hold the drinks,’ Ruby said, taking Molly’s half empty cocktail glass and nodding towards the dance floor. The sooner Molly introduced herself to the famous director and begged for an audition for a part in his next movie, the sooner they could leave. ‘Time to walk the gangplank, my lovely.’

      Molly surreptitiously smoothed a palm down the side of her gown. ‘I thought you said this was a hare-brained idea?’

      It was a hare-brained idea but seeing her confident, madcap sister suddenly nervous, Ruby softened. ‘It’s a great idea. He’s going to love you. Just remember: no public sex.’

      Molly smiled at that. ‘Of course not. Sex can come after I’ve won an Oscar for starring in his film and if we fall madly in love with each other.’ She straightened her shoulders and set her jaw determinedly. ‘You sure you won’t dance with me?’

      ‘In this dress?’ Ruby glanced down at her enhanced cleavage. ‘Not a chance.’

      Molly scowled. ‘You’re no fun.’

      ‘I know. I work really hard at it.’

      Laughing, Molly blew out a nervous breath and headed into the fray. Ruby sometimes envied her little sister her ability to put herself ‘out there’ like that. Ruby could do it for her clients but when it came to pursuing something for herself...well, she wasn’t that brave, and knowing that was one of her greatest strengths.

      Sipping her drink while she held Molly’s, she savoured the crisp lightness of the wine, almost forgetting about the man in the bronzed mask until she glanced up and found him prowling towards her, a sexy grin on his face.

      Instantly her breath backed up in her lungs and her pulse took off like a rocket. As if he sensed her response, a heated gleam entered his eyes, darkening them from chocolate to mink. ‘When you ordered those drinks I didn’t realise you intended to drink them all by yourself,’ he said, his intimate tone and soft laugh inviting her to play along with his charming joke.

      A shiver snaked down Ruby’s spine at the sound of that deep, velvety chuckle. Oh, this guy was smooth. Dangerously smooth. He was also most definitely Sam Ventura. What was the point in trying to deny it any longer?

      ‘Another lame pick-up line,’ she said with cool derision. ‘How very original of you.’

      Instead of taking her comment as the put-down it was meant to be, Sam seemed highly amused by it. ‘I didn’t realise I’d delivered a first one.’ His eyes glowed from behind his mask as he grinned down at her. ‘Now, if I told you that you had the kind of smile that could stop a man at fifty paces...that would be a lame pick-up line.’ His smile widened. ‘It would also be true.’

      Ruby blinked up at him, feeling a distinct height disadvantage without her usual four-inch heels on her feet, her gown not long enough to accommodate them. His tone implied that he thought she was a stranger, but how was that possible? She had recognised him straight away—would recognise him blindfolded in a dark room just by the prickling awareness he set off inside her.

      She didn’t know whether to be insulted or glad that he hadn’t recognised her in turn. Maybe both. It only seemed to confirm that the mutual connection she had believed was special between them the night they met hadn’t been special or mutual at all.

      Something inside her chest plummeted just a little more. Her pride, no doubt, because what woman’s pride wouldn’t be dented when a man who had kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her now had no clue as to who she was just because of a silly costume?

      Dismayed to have her worst fears confirmed, Ruby deliberately disguised her voice with a smoky edge. Let him try and pick her up, she thought with rising irritation. Let him try and use all his sophisticated charm on her and have her turn him down this time. She’d like nothing better than to see him dig a hole for himself and then reveal her identity at the last minute. It was no less than he deserved for not calling her when he’d promised that he would. And, yes, she knew she needed to get over that but she really hated when a man said one thing and did another. She’d experienced the disappointment of being let down by her father too often as a young girl to put up with it in her adult life.

      ‘Great outfit by the way. I’m thinking you’re—’

      ‘Don’t say Little Bo Peep,’ she warned menacingly.

      Sam laughed softly. ‘If you were Little Bo Peep you’d have a staff. And sheep. Which might not work with those ducks earlier.’

      ‘Swans.’

      ‘Ducks, swans...feathered fowl who belong in a pond, not at a masquerade party.’ His dark eyes glittered with lazy male appreciation as he gazed at her. ‘Not without a mask at least.’

      Ruby’s lips twitched and she quickly sipped the last of her wine. She was not going to find him charming this time around. She was not going to feel breathless with awareness, or tingly with anticipation. She was not going to remember the gentle way he had tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before he’d said goodnight to her two years ago. Or the way he had looked at her as if she amazed him. It had made him impossible to forget. Impossible to get over. And thinking like that was just asking for