A Virgin for His Prize. Lucy Monroe
elegant peacock-blue evening gown accented her modest curves, highlighting Romi’s particular brand of delicate femininity. Fragility at odds with her gung-ho approach to life. Romi didn’t consider any cause too great, or any opponent too intimidating to take on.
Borderline petite at five foot five, with a personality that more than made up for her smaller stature, Maxwell had found Ramona Grayson intriguing from their first meeting.
“Thank you.” She frowned at him, but offered grudgingly, “You’re very handsome yourself tonight. Not a designer I recognize. A tuxedo from one of the tailors on Savile Row?”
He smiled, impressed by her powers of observation. Having his clothing made to fit could be considered a luxury by some, but for Maxwell it was more than that. Tailored designer brands impressed, but having a bespoke suit, patterned and constructed entirely to his specifications, made another kind of impression, one in line with Maxwell’s reputation for utter control in and out of the boardroom.
“My suit-maker is local, but he apprenticed with a Savile Row tailor.”
“Of course. I notice you don’t give his name.”
“Why? Are you looking for a new tailor for your father?” Not that Maxwell thought his would take on Grayson.
The tailor was both expensive and extremely discerning about his clientele. An alcoholic on the verge of taking his company down to the bottom of a whiskey bottle had no chance.
Romi’s barely there grimace was quickly masked. “No.”
“The waiting list for his services is a year out.” Maxwell found himself offering the truth as an excuse, an unaccustomed effort to spare her feelings.
“No doubt you subverted it somehow.”
Maxwell smiled. “Not a chance. The man’s a martinet about his schedule and his client standards.”
“Still, I’m surprised,” Romi said, her intent to bait him obvious.
Something was definitely bothering her. “Are you?”
“You’re a very opportunistic man.” The edge to her voice was sharper than a chef’s cleaver.
He couldn’t deny it, didn’t want to. His ability to identify and take advantage of opportunities was something that had helped Maxwell to build his business and his fortune to what they were today. A multimillionaire personally, his company, Black Information Technologies, or BIT, was valued at ten times his personal assets.
Not bad for a thirty-two-year-old bastard having no acknowledged ties to wealth, like Romi had been born with.
However, it was clear something about that character trait had upset Romi. Recently, if he wasn’t mistaken. Since there was no way she could know about the plans he’d been considering for her father’s company, it had to be something else.
Mentally going back through the events of the past week that others were aware of, Maxwell thought he might know. “You’ve spoken to Madison Archer.”
“I talk to Maddie every day, several times a day.” The increased annoyance in Romi’s voice left no doubt he was on the right track.
Though he still was not sure why Romi would be upset with Maxwell for being offered the marriage-based business contract by Jeremy Archer.
“I can hardly be held accountable for her father’s actions.” Though he wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of the auspicious conditions Archer had provided, even if not for the opportunities the president of AIH had intended.
Romi crossed her arms, leaning back in a classic pose of annoyance. “Only your willingness to participate in them.”
He took a moment to appreciate the way her stance pressed her small breasts together to create a shadow of tempting cleavage. Everything about her body turned him on. Thin, with modest curves, she was nevertheless one-hundred-percent enticing woman.
“I went to a meeting where Jeremy Archer offered a very lucrative contract and your so-called sister-by-choice held her own very well.” Though he wasn’t prepared to tell Romi how Madison had kept her father in line.
Maxwell had plans for that information. Because he was an opportunistic bastard. Literally and figuratively.
Unless he’d misread Madison Archer, she had not shared her actions with her best friend.
Which created leverage for Maxwell with Romi. She would do anything to prevent her SBC from being harmed in any way. Even by Madison’s own precipitous actions.
“You were willing to break your own rules for a price,” Romi sneered.
Ah. Now he understood. Maxwell was actually a little surprised that Madison had shared his offer with Romi. The Archer heiress had never seriously considered it and he hadn’t expected her to. That didn’t mean he would deny himself the opportunity to give Viktor Beck a few seconds of doubt.
They’d been friends and competitors since early childhood.
Still, Romi was upset Maxwell had made the counteroffer. That might bode well for his own plans where she was concerned.
“And that price wasn’t love.” He laced the last word with his own brand of disgust.
The overly emotional and incredibly naive heiress thought that sentiment the only motivation worthy of note. Even after the loss of that love had nearly destroyed her own father and what remained of their family.
“More like thirty pieces of silver.” Her blue gaze snapped with fire he wanted in his bed.
The small taste he’d had of her had only whetted an appetite Maxwell had come to accept would not be satisfied by anything but unfettered access to this woman alone.
“Your inference would imply I betrayed someone. I didn’t.” He and Romi had gone their separate ways nearly a year ago.
“Your own integrity maybe.”
“What is dishonest about a business deal where the terms are laid bare for everyone involved?”
“So, your ‘no commitment’ rule was only for me?” Romi’s voice betrayed pained disappointment.
He didn’t like hearing that from her. Even less than he’d liked the sound of “no thank you” spoken with a catch of desperation in her voice. “I didn’t offer Madison the kind of commitment you believe you need.”
“You offered to marry her.”
“I offered a business arrangement without conjugal rights or the promise of fidelity.”
“That’s horrible.” Romi was getting genuinely upset, her voice rising in agitation.
Soon, those around them would notice.
He took her by her elbow and began leading her toward the balcony doors. He was hoping the evening drop in temperature would mean it was deserted.
“Where are we going?” she asked, though she didn’t try to pull away.
“Someplace more private than here.”
Memory slashed across his brain…a similar question, an almost identical answer, but for a very different purpose.
He’d wanted to kiss her.
She’d been seething with an emotion very different from anger that time. She’d wanted the kiss, too.
Her response had nearly caused him to lose control of his own body for the first time since his initial foray into sex.
The balcony was as deserted as he’d hoped it would be, with only one other couple tucked away in the corner shadows at the opposite end. The low-level lighting and thirty feet separating the two couples insured a certain level of privacy so long as he and Romi did not raise their voices.
She shivered in the cool air