The virgin, p.1
The Virgin, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
The Virgin
Dedication
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Vicious Vixen
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The Virgin
Shiloh Walker
REVENGE
I was seventeen when I met Drake Gallagher. Seventeen, naive, foolish...and in love. Or so I thought. That summer, and the months that followed, set the course of my life.
Ten years later, I’m still struggling to put the pieces of me back to together. It’s time to stop struggling. It’s time to take control...and maybe, it’s time for a little revenge.
He doesn’t have time for naive little virgins? Well, I’m not naive anymore.
REDEMPTION
THEY SAY REVENGE IS a dish best served cold. Maybe that’s why my plans didn’t work out. Cold could never describe what I feel for Drake Gallagher. Still, after ten years of bitterness, ten years of hiding in the shadows, I’m not sure there’s any way to bridge the distance between us. Especially now.
Running away seemed to be the best answer. So what am I supposed to do now that he’s found me again? Is it time to open up and tell him...everything? The safest thing to do would be push him away. But safety is an illusion. Nobody knows that better than me.
“You don’t need to see me in.”
He cocked a brow. “Perhaps there is something I need to discuss with you.”
Barely, I managed to keep from curling my lip at him. Just barely. I slid inside and disarmed the alarm as he shut the door behind me. My heart hammered in my chest, that silly, foolish little fantasy settling in my mind again. Him kneeling before me, his mouth on mine.
Another kiss.
His body pressed to mine.
Him fulfilling that promise he’d made all those years ago.
Hurtful words undone. Could that happen? Could we go back to who we had been on the beach, him a too-solemn, serious young man and me a foolish, hopeful girl who hadn’t had her heart, her dreams, her world smashed, all within the span of a couple of months?
Perhaps if I reached for him, took what I’d wanted then, if he’d let me, I could find some small piece of that girl I’d been. And some peace. I’d never forget the misery of the months that followed, the loneliness of the years that came later. The loss would still be there, as would the shattered dreams, the awful nightmares, mornings when I woke to the sound of my own choked screams. But if I could find...closure...yes. That was what I needed. Was this why I was here?
Was that why I had come here, seeking him?
What would closure give me, I wondered. The loss will be there. The pain will not fade. And everything he took from you will still be his.
No. I didn’t need closure. I needed to end this, because this would solve nothing.
Taking a deep, bracing breath, I turned.
And the breath stuttered out of me as I found him just scant inches away, his face lost in the shadows. “Mr. Gallagher,” I said, his name catching on my lips.
“Drake.” He reached up, flicked a lock of hair behind my ear.
My heart skittered inside my chest and the ache within me spread.
“Drake. I—”
“You didn’t ask what the inappropriate things are,” he murmured, moving even closer, until even the thought of personal space died. I could feel the heat of him, so close, warming my skin. Under the silk of my dress and the strapless bra I wore, my breasts ached, feeling too full, while my nipples went tight. And my thighs felt like putty. Leaning back against the table, I braced my weight on my hands and tried to pierce the darkness to better see his face.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You never asked,” he said, his heat crowding in around me, his scent flooding my head and it was like I was lost. Again. Lost in the time, years ago, when life was simple and easy and sweet. When things made sense and there was no pain. Just me, just him, and the promise of the life I’d thought would be mine.
He reached up and cupped my cheek, so close that all I could see was the gleam of his eyes. “Is this inappropriate?” he murmured, his mouth just a whisper away, our breaths mingling.
A warning alarm sounded in my head.
Dedication
To those I love. I thank God for you.
Copyright
2013 © Shiloh Walker
Originally published under the pseudonym
J. Dallas
as
The Virgin:
REVENGE & REDEMPTION
Editorial Work by Deelylah Mullin
THIS BOOK IS A WORK of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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Part One
Revenge
Chapter One
A LOT OF SKYSCRAPERS jutted up into the sky like the typical erect phallus, a sort of monument to the male species. Not Gallagher Enterprises. It flowed. There were sleek lines and soft colors. It was ivory and all those windows were like a thousand jewels under the sun. Something about it made me think of a woman. Not that it was feminine.
Perhaps it was that Drake Gallagher— the man who’d designed the building— decided he’d rather spend his time inside a building that appeared to be a tribute to feminine strength, not just another phallic symbol. Who knew.
Or maybe he wanted his company’s headquarters to stand out.
The Boy Genius had always had a head for things like that.
He’d been called that for a long time—I’d heard the whispers even when he’d first appeared in my small corner of the world and it had secretly thrilled me. After, I’d wished I’d been a little less the naïve fool he’d accused me of being and paid more attention to all those little whispers. Maybe it would have given me some sort of clue.
Drake Gallagher was no longer any sort of boy.
He was thirty-four now. Back then, his hair had been longer, a deep shade of red that women would spend serious sums of money on, just trying to achieve that color. His was natural and the sun would tease out a dozen other shades, even as it warmed his skin to a smooth, golden glow. He’d been leaner then, long, almost lanky, but in the past ten years, that long, lean body had changed in the most delicious way. He was still long and lean, but his shoulders were wider and there was a hint of a powerful body underneath those beautiful suits he wore. I hadn’t seen him except in a few interviews on TV, and more than dozen pictures in various trade magazines, but I could see the changes.
If life were fair, he would have grown softer, not harder.
But life was often not fair.
He was more beautiful now than ever.
Probably still as cruel, though. I needed to be on my guard.
I pulled out my compact, checked my make-up, my hair one last time as I climbed from the cab. I’d had nightmares the night before, but I had a deft hand with cosmetics and one wouldn’t see the sleepless night just by looking at me. I knew how to hide those rough nights—a skill I’d been forced to pick up. Nightmares had plagued me off and on for the past ten years, although they happened less often now. Stress brought them on. Today, I certainly had reasons to be stressed.
In twenty-eight minutes, I had an interview. His administrative assistant was leaving the company—she had recently married and was pregnant. It was pure luck I’d managed to secure an interview. Luck, or perhaps fate giving me a chance to get back some of the pride he’d ripped out of me all of those years ago.
Before I put the mirror away, I stared into my eyes. They were the one thing that hadn’t changed over the years. Would they give me away? Ten years ago, they had been innocent, naïve. Innocent might still apply in some ways, but naivety had died that day on the beach.
In the months that would follow, even hope would die.
No, I decided after a careful study. Not even the eyes were the same. The color, the shape. But there were a thousand, a hundred thousand brunettes out there with gray eyes. Maybe they didn’t all have eyes shaped like mine, tilted up a bit at the corner, and maybe those brunettes didn’t have the same smattering of freckles across their noses. Everything else was different, though. At seventeen, I hadn’t wanted to waste time on things like make-up or hair. It was unusual for my hair to grow an inch or two past my chin at that age and if my mother wasn’t quick enough to offe r a cut, then I’d hack away at it myself. There had been a softness to my face, a light in my eyes.
All of that was gone now, lost to time as the soft happy girl I’d been slowly faded and died.
I knew what people saw as I strode through the doors, my heels clicking on the floor. The girl I had been spent her summers helping with the hotel, cleaning the rooms to prepare for new arrivals, or even assisting with repairs. Come afternoon, I’d be on the beaches. My hair had grown sun-streaked from so much time on the beach, and my wardrobe consisted of shorts and tank tops. I’d carried probably an extra twenty pounds then, but it hadn’t bothered me. It wouldn’t bother me now, either. The problem was that very little interested me—not food, not life, nothing.
Except this.
This had been the end goal for so many years.
The softness of my youth had melted away; lack of interest in life had stripped away those extra twenty pounds, plus a few more. I was now more slender than I needed to be, but it wasn’t a disadvantage in this life. Over the years, I’d learned, painstakingly, how to dress to flatter my new figure.
As a teenager, my breasts and hips had annoyed me—I had been the ultimate tomboy, right up until I foolishly fell in love.
I’d left the foolishness, and that girl, behind.
AS I STOPPED IN FRONT of reception, I didn’t fidget. That was a habit, one of many, I’d forced myself to break. I didn’t let myself check the hem of the gray silk suit and I didn’t look at the time as I waited for the pretty blonde. When she looked at me, I smiled. “Hello. I have an appointment at 8:30.”
“You’re here for Mr. Gallagher, then.” She nodded, handed me a guest pass and signaled to a man in a conservative black suit.
A few minutes later, I found myself in a room with half a dozen other women. It was to be a group interview. If I hadn’t already heard how he did things, it would have thrown me off. I might not have let that show, but I was glad I’d done my research. I’d been watching, watching and waiting for this chance for years.
As I settled in one of the available chairs, I studied the women.
They weren’t exactly my competition. Either I would get the job, or I wouldn’t.
One of the main reasons I’d applied for this position was simply for the chance to see him, to face him. After all of this time.
Should he even offer me the position, he’d do a background check and he’d learn who I was. Assuming he hadn’t already done that. Perhaps he’d forgotten. Perhaps I hadn’t mattered enough for him to remember.
He’d ruined my life, and in the months that followed, I’d lost everything that mattered. I had every reason to remember him.
He had no reason to remember me.
It was a thought that settled in the back of my mind and refused to leave over the next twenty minutes as we waited.
Another woman, a beautiful blonde with a suit that was just a little too tight, settled in the seat next to mine as I brooded. She crossed her legs, reached up, freed one button. I eyed it, debated.
She sighed and studied the ceiling. “A group interview,” she muttered. “I wasn’t ready for that.”
“It’s not unheard of. Saves time, puts us on edge. And I’ve heard that he’s...eccentric,” I offered.
She snorted, then looked around, staring at the others. I could see the nerves blooming in her eyes. The other women were more polished than she was. One of her nails looked like she’d been chewing on it. Absently, I reached into my bag and pulled out a file, shaped up two nails that didn’t need it, then offered it to her.
She stared at it. Then, with a sigh, took it. I went back to studying the group.
“I need this job,” she said abruptly.
I blinked, then looked back at her.
She grimaced. “I guess that’s not anything we should say to each other.”
I shrugged. “We all need the job.” I paused, then held out my hand. “I’m Shannon. Shannon Crosby.”
“Beth Gibbens.” She tugged at the hem of her suit. “I don’t fit in.”
“Don’t fidget.” I glanced over, past a blonde who was a more polished version of Beth. Her suit fit better and if I had to make a bet on it, I’d say her haircut had cost about two hundred bucks. She looked like smooth and elegant sex. Our gazes locked and she crossed her legs, a smile curving her lips before she shifted her gaze to Beth. The smile took on a derisive slant before she shifted her attention elsewhere.
The derision annoyed me.
Looking back to Beth, I said softly, “The key is not to fidget. If you do that, you look like you lack confidence and that is more of a turnoff to employers than anything else.”
Beth laughed nervously. “How about desperation?”
“That, too.”
There was no time for anything else. The man who’d escorted me into the room opened the door and we all rose.
As we headed to the door, the blonde with the pricy cut somehow managed to drive the spike heel of her shoe into my toe. I locked my jaw to keep from saying anything.
Then, as we filed down the hall, I caught Beth’s elbow.
“Button it.” I nodded to her blouse.
She stared at me.
“Trust me.”
With my foot throbbing, I filed down the hall after the rest.
THE RIDE TO THE EXECUTIVE levels was quiet, but far from easy. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. My head was pounding from the lack of sleep, too much perfume, the scent of hair products clouding the air. Sweat broke out along my spine, sliding down to pool at the base, just below the loose-fitting waistband of my skirt.
This was it.
It didn’t matter if I got the job.
All I had to do was see him.
Look at him.
It would help if he looked at me and felt something.
I knew the look in his eyes when he was attracted. I’d seen it before. If he could look at me and feel that pull, that tug I’d felt then...if he could feel that, even if he didn’t act on it, then I could feel better.
Maybe it would give me something back.
It wouldn’t be enough.
Nothing would ever be enough.
But I’d learned to settle for what I could get, a long time ago.
The doors opened and I fought the urge to heave out a sigh of relief as I escaped the press of the other women. Beth remained at my side and I reached up, hooked my arm through hers. “Just think. In another hour or so, it will be over,” I said, keeping my voice low.
A surprised laugh gurgled out of her. She glanced at me. “You don’t exactly sound like you want the job.”
I shrugged. “I’m here, right?”
The doors in front of us were stamped metal, an elegant design that caught the eye and refused to let go. Forcing myself to look away, I watched as the doors swung inward.
There he was.
It was, in short, a fist, straight to my heart, seeing him again.
He wasn’t even facing me, but I felt the impact of his presence, even from here. Standing at the end of the table, his back to us, I noted his hair was still that deep, burnished red, shorter than it used to be, yet long enough for a woman to plunge her hands into, tangle her fingers in it as he kissed her senseless. And he could do that, I knew for a fact. Nobody else had ever been able to steal the breath from me with something as simple as a kiss.
Don’t think about his kisses.
It was almost impossible not to, but I managed.
His suit, a deep, deep gray, stretched over wide shoulders, fitting him to perfection. I knew how those shoulders looked without the suit, how his skin bronzed under the sun—it wasn’t fair, really. He was a redhead. If fate was fair, he should freckle. Instead, he tanned. I freckled, or burned.
Although I could only see the barest edge of his profile, my heart slammed hard against my ribs.
Don’t do that. Stupid, stupid heart. I’d had a good, long hard talk with myself this morning. I had a goal in mind, a mission. If by some stupid twist of fate I ended up getting this job, I had a mission. I wanted to see him feel as I’d once felt. Miserable, empty.
How I’d accomplish that, I didn’t know, but that was what I wanted.
