Seduced The Unexpected Virgin

Four


Ana’s question hung in the air between them. Where do we go from here?

He could think of about a dozen places they could go. Dinner. Some cozy restaurant where he could ply her with food and wine. Down to the beach where he could coax her into kicking off her shoes to walk with him on the sand. Where he could free her hair from that maddening knot she’d worn it in and bury his nose in the skin at the nape of her neck. Breathe in that intoxicating cinnamon scent.

Hey, he had a lot of suggestions. None of them were the least bit appropriate. Not for a woman he worked with.

So he buried his gut-level reaction and gave her the answer she really needed. “We go to Charleston.”

She blinked in surprise. “Come again?”

Ward nearly laughed at the sheer disbelief on Ana’s face. “Charleston,” he repeated.

“The city?”

“Yes, the city. I certainly wasn’t planning on taking you dancing.” A look of confusion flickered across her face and he added, “I have horrible rhythm.”

She narrowed her gaze, clearly unsure how to take his words. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Honest to God. I can’t dance to save my life.”

She just shook her head, obviously deciding to ignore his teasing. “What’s in Charleston?”

“The Cara Miller Foundation headquarters. Once you see the kinds of things we do there—”

She didn’t let him finish but cut him off. “Are you insane?”

Again, she didn’t give him a chance to answer, and he let her talk, her impassioned words pouring out in a stream. “I admit that the street fair is a good idea, but between that and my normal work, I can’t possibly jaunt off to Charleston on a whim. Even if we had the money in our budget for such a trip—which we don’t—I can’t take the time away from work.”

Frankly, it impressed the hell out of him that she had the confidence to rant at him. Most people didn’t. She seemed to have the unique ability to forget that he was a superstar.

“This isn’t time away from work,” he pointed out. “I’m not suggesting you come to Charleston to go sightseeing. It’ll be a working trip. You can meet our lawyers and accountants. People who can make the work you’re struggling with here go twice as fast. Two, three days max. If we leave Sunday night I’ll have you back in San Diego in plenty of time to get ready for Chase and Emma’s wedding next weekend.”

She seemed to consider it for a moment. Then firmly shook her head. “I just don’t see how I could justify—”

He took that as a yes. She kept on talking as he pulled out his iPhone and dialed his assistant. He was midway through the conversation before she even noticed he wasn’t listening. She came to stand directly in front of him, hands propped on her hips, gaze narrowed in annoyance.

“Hang on, Jess,” he said into the phone before he lowered it. He cocked an eyebrow at her in silent question.

“Did I just hear you say ‘first class’?”

“It’s a long flight. At night. You really don’t want to fly coach.”

“I don’t want?” she repeated. “I don’t want to go at all.”

“I know that. But you’re going to have to trust me. The trip will be worth it.”

Before he could explain more, Jess started talking again and Ward turned his attention to him. He was listening to Jess’s reply as he felt a tap-tap-tap on his biceps. He glanced over to see Ana frowning at him, arms crossed over her chest.

Into the phone he said, “Call me back with the details on the flight. Thanks.”

As he slipped the phone back into his front shirt pocket, her scowl deepened.

“I can’t just run off to Charleston for the weekend.”

“Of course you can.”

“No. I can’t. In addition to all the paperwork—which I’m ridiculously behind on—” she gestured to the whiteboard behind her “—now I also have to plan a street fair.”

He laughed outright. “You’ve already said all of this. Now you’re just grasping at straws. Besides, you don’t have to do anything about the street fair.”

“Of course I do.” She threw her hands up in the air in obvious frustration. “Everyone here is excited about it and—”

He gently grabbed her arms. “Exactly. They’re excited about it. Let them handle it. You don’t have to be in charge of everything. Jess could do this kind of thing in his sleep. Presumably, your people have contacts here who can smooth the way. My PR guy, Ryan, is relatively new and still eager to prove he’s useful. Frankly, I haven’t had a lot for him to do yet. He’ll be thrilled to have something to keep him busy.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Her tone was heavy with accusation.

“It is easy,” he assured her.

For an instant, doubt flickered across her face. He was struck by how warm and solid her arms felt under his hands. Unlike so many of the women he knew in show business, Ana had meat on her bones. She certainly wasn’t overweight, but she wasn’t scrawny, either. Her arms were leanly muscled, her body curvy in all the right places. This was a hell of a time for him to notice it.

Suddenly, he was all too aware of her very feminine body only a foot away from his. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to quell the urge to pull her fully into his arms. Unfortunately, that only drew in the scent of her. That warm cinnamon-vanilla smell that called to him so strongly. Again, an image of her flashed through his mind. Her hair loose about her shoulders, her neck arched back, exposing the long column of her throat to his lips.

Abruptly, he released his hold on her and stepped away.

Bringing her to CMF’s headquarters was the right thing to do. She needed the knowledge CMF could give her. And Hannah’s Hope needed her as well-educated as possible.

But bringing her to Charleston was the last thing he needed. He was too damned attracted to her already. Spending time with her would only make that worse. But what was he supposed to do? Walk away from someone who needed this help merely because he was having trouble keeping his zipper up?

Besides which, he’d told Rafe that he’d help. He kept his promises. And he would keep this one, even if it damn near killed him. He just wished he didn’t have to fight her as well as his own instincts.

He turned back to her, forcing a smile. “I’ll make you a deal. You come to Charleston with me and spend three days at CMF. When you get back, if you’re not convinced it was the right thing to do, I’ll personally donate enough money to cover whatever the street fair costs.”

She narrowed her gaze in suspicion. “I can’t let you pay for that.”

Of course she couldn’t. She’d bristled at forty bucks worth of muffins and coffee.

He quirked an eyebrow knowing it would irritate her. “You don’t think I’m good for it?”

“No.”

He couldn’t resist purposefully misunderstanding her. “I have plenty of money.”

“Obviously,” she scoffed. “That’s not what I meant. I can’t let you just give us the money.”

“It’s a donation.”

“It’s not a donation,” she countered. “It’s a bribe.”

He slung an arm around her shoulder, like a good buddy. The gesture backfired. Once again, the scent of her hit him. Beneath his hand, her shoulder felt both delicate and strong. Her posture was stiff and unyielding, like she didn’t quite trust his intentions. Smart lady.

’Cause yeah, he was just a good buddy. A good buddy who got rock-hard every time he caught a whiff of her hair. A good buddy who wanted to strip away all her layers of professional clothing to see the naked body beneath. Hell, who wanted to strip away all her emotional defenses and see what was beneath those, too.

Yeah, that was just the kind of buddy she needed.

Nevertheless, like a good buddy, he gently guided her toward the table where one lone muffin still sat. He’d seen her eyeing the muffin earlier. “First rule of nonprofit—when an insanely rich donor wants to give you money, you accept it.”

“That’s not…” she sputtered. “I didn’t…” She threw up her hands in frustration. “You’re twisting my words.”

“I don’t think it’s your words I’m twisting.” He pressed a muffin into her hand.

She took a bite, despite the scowl on her face. She looked exactly like a recalcitrant toddler miffed at being talked into going to bed early on Christmas Eve. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a very difficult man to deal with?”

He grinned. “Second rule of nonprofits—don’t insult the insanely rich donors giving you money.”

She gave him a tight smile. “That wasn’t an insult. It was a question.” She broke off another bite of muffin and popped it into her mouth. Her voice dripped with mock enthusiasm when she asked, “Are there any other rules of nonprofits I need to know?”

“We’ll go over them on the plane.”

He still wasn’t sure how exactly he was supposed to spend a five-and-a-half-hour flight with her. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to sleep with her in the seat beside him.

The good news was, she didn’t look any more enthusiastic about it than he felt.

She forced a smile. “Yippee.”


After Ward’s comments Friday, Ana had fully expected him to make the trip with her. When he wasn’t in the car that came to pick her up, she assumed he’d meet her at the terminal. But he hadn’t shown up there, either. He’d sent Jess to explain that Rafe had rescheduled the board meeting for the following morning. When she’d offered to stay for the meeting herself, Jess quickly assured her that wasn’t necessary. Instead, she was hustled onto the plane, leaving her with the feeling that she was being “handled.”

Thirty-six hours later, at least one of her fears had been alleviated. She didn’t yet know if Ward doubted her abilities, but it was obvious from her treatment at CMF that he wasn’t angling to get her fired. Surely if he had been, the CMF employees wouldn’t have rolled out the carpet for her on such a grand scale.

Once the plane had landed in Charleston, she’d been whisked off to the hotel to freshen up and rest. Luckily, she’d been able to sleep on the plane and needed only a brief nap before her whirlwind tour of CMF. She’d spent a few hours shadowing the director of the charitable branch of CMF. The woman, Stacy Goebel, had been a friend of Cara’s and had been an executive at a marketing firm before Ward had offered her the job. That evening, Stacy had taken Ana to dinner at a local landmark before dropping her off at the hotel. The next day was more of the same, except at the incubator branch of the charity.

By noon, her mind was reeling from how much she’d learned. Things she hadn’t even thought she needed to know. Stacy had scheduled a lunch with CMF’s on-staff lawyer, who was able to recommend a lawyer in San Diego that could work with Hannah’s Hope. Then it was back to CMF for the afternoon. By the time they ended for the day, Ana could hardly think straight.

Once again, Stacy had planned to take her out to dinner. Waiting for Stacy in the front lobby, Ana occupied herself by gawking. Until now, she’d been carted from meeting to meeting at such a brisk pace that she hadn’t had much of a chance to look around. Now that she did, she felt another burst of giddy, fan-girl excitement.

CMF’s lobby was decorated with trophies from Ward’s music career. The main reception desk sat in the middle of the room, a small waiting area was off to the side. Gold and platinum albums covered so much of the wall that it almost looked like wallpaper.

Stacy made it into the lobby just about the time Ana had reached the back wall where a beat-up Alvarez Yairi acoustic guitar sat on a stand encased in glass. Its burled mahogany back and sides gleamed a rich brown under the lights. The solid cedar front was worn and scuffed.

“Ah, I see you found the gallery.”

“It’s an impressive collection.” It was a fitting tribute to Ward’s extraordinary career. “It seems…I don’t know. Out of place, maybe. Ward doesn’t seem the type to be quite so ostentatious.”

“He’s not,” Stacy quickly defended her boss.

Ana hid her cringe. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“No, honestly. Ward doesn’t like this room at all. The decorator suggested it. Ward’s never comfortable here, but even he admits that it’s a hit whenever we host fundraisers here. Donors love it.”

Ana nodded. That did seem like Ward. Willing to flaunt his fame only when it got him what he wanted. In this case, money for CMF.

“What do you think?” Stacy asked when she saw Ana staring at the guitar.

“That’s not the Alvarez, is it?”

Stacy grinned gleefully as if she could fully appreciate the reverence in Ana’s voice. “It is. The Alvarez.”

There was a certain breed of rock star that delighted in destroying expensive guitars. They abused them as a sign of their decadence. Ward had never been that kind of musician. He’d been playing music on the same beat-up Alvarez guitar he bought used from a store in Memphis when he was fifteen. One of the many bits of trivia any fan would know. The guitar had become legendary. As much a part of his mystique as his gravelly voice and trademark fretwork.

Standing beside her, Stacy sighed. “You know, Cara and I had been best friends for years when she started dating Ward. I was completely in awe when I met him. The first time I saw this guitar—” she rolled her eyes as if amused by her own silliness “—I couldn’t stop staring at it. I cried the first time I heard him play it in person.”

Ana could certainly understand that. Her fingers practically twitched with the urge to touch it. They probably kept it behind glass to keep greedy fan fingers off it.

“What’s in its place when the Alvarez isn’t here?” she asked.

Stacy shrugged, sorrow crossing her face. “The Alvarez is always here.”

“How is that possible? From what I’ve read, that’s the only guitar he composes on. That’s his guitar.”

She broke off, suddenly aware of how obsessive she sounded.

Stacy seemed not to notice. “We opened our doors about four months after Cara died. As far as I know, the only people who ever touch it are the nightly cleaning crew.”

“He never…” Ana prodded.

“No,” Stacy answered the unasked question. “He never does.”

Her throat closed over her emotions. “That makes me very sad,” Ana admitted.

Stacy smiled ruefully. “Me, too.”

Ward kept his career and his talent behind carefully constructed glass, away from the dust, away from most eyes and away from any touch, especially his own.

Shaking off the sad mood, Stacy turned toward Ana and smiled. “So, did you decide the trip was worth it after all?”

Ana shot the other woman a surprised look. “Excuse me?”

Stacy smiled slyly. “When you first showed up, you seemed…hesitant. Or maybe suspicious.”

Ana had to smile in return. “I guess I’m not as good at hiding my feelings as I thought.” She brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen loose from the twist, and tucked it behind her ear. “Suspicious about sums it up. I’d been floundering a bit at Hannah’s Hope. I honestly didn’t believe coming all the way out here would help when there was so much work to be done back home.” And then she laughed at her own foolishness. “And I thought maybe Ward was just trying to get me out of the way so he could call a board meeting without me.”

Stacy shot her a confused look. “Why would he do that?”

Ana forced a rueful smile. “You’re going to think I’m being overly paranoid, but I’m not sure how to read Ward. I figured, if he thought I was doing a crappy job at Hannah’s Hope, he might decide it was just easier to get me out of the way and hire someone better qualified.”

She adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder as they headed out of the lobby for the parking garage.

Stacy was quiet for a long moment and when Ana glanced over at her, it was to see the other woman frowning.

Stacy noticed and smiled brightly. “Well, at least I can put that concern to rest. He never would have flown you out here if he didn’t plan on keeping you at Hannah’s Hope for a long time.”

“Really? Isn’t this what CMF does all the time?”

“Yes and no.” Stacy bobbled her head from side to side to indicate her ambivalence. “Yes, we help other nonprofits. That’s one of our primary missions, but usually we do most of our work virtually, using videoconferencing and online classes. We consult via email and phone calls. Of course, all those resources will be available to you as well, but Ward arranged this for you as a sort of…crash course.” Stacy must have seen the consternation flicker across her face, because she rushed to reassure her. “Not because he doesn’t think you’re capable, but because he’s so enthusiastic about the work Hannah’s Hope is doing. In fact, when I saw him this morning he—”

“Wait a second,” Ana interrupted her. “You saw Ward this morning?”

“He was here early this morning and then left just before you arrived.”

“I see,” she muttered. Except she really didn’t. Her first meeting at CMF had been scheduled at nine. He’d have had to have come in at seven or seven-thirty to get in a meeting and leave before she even got there. “Is that normal for him? Scheduling meetings that early?”

“Thank goodness, no.” Stacy stifled a yawn. “Normally, he comes into the office about nine.”

“He must have had a busy day scheduled to make you come in so early.”

But Stacy shook her head. “No, that’s the weird thing. Jess always sends his schedule on to me when he’s in town. He didn’t have anything to do today. Normally, when he’s in town, he’s here at the office for twelve-hour days. I don’t know what’s up with this visit that he’s staying away. I mean—”

But then Stacy broke off abruptly, giving Ana an odd look. She tilted her head to the side as if Ana were an object of extreme curiosity.

“What?” Ana asked.

Stacy’s cheeks flushed red and she averted her gaze. “Nothing,” she insisted with sudden cheer. She clapped her hands together. “So, what sounds good for dinner? There’s a new Asian fusion restaurant that’s been getting great reviews. Or if you want something less formal, there’s a great burger joint just down the road. Or—”

“You know, I think I’ll skip it tonight.” Ana yawned, thankful she didn’t have to fake her exhaustion. “It’s been a busy few days. I think I’ll just head back to the hotel and make an early night of it.”

Stacy studied her, her keen gaze assessing. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. Besides, I’ve got to be here first thing in the morning. I want to squeeze in a little more work before the flight out tomorrow afternoon.”

Stacy looked doubtful. Like she’d had very strict orders to keep an eye on Ana and was afraid that letting her eat alone would offend the powers that be.

“And you’ve had a long day yourself,” Ana added persuasively. “You deserve the evening off. I’ll be fine on my own. I’ll stay out of trouble. I promise.”

She smiled gamely, trying to inject her face with just enough fatigue to make her claims of exhaustion believable.

Stacy nodded, despite still looking doubtful. “Sure. Fine. Do you need directions back to the hotel or anything?”

“Nope. The rental came with GPS. I can get wherever I need to go.”

Which was useful, because she wasn’t actually heading back to the hotel. Nope, she was going to track down Ward Miller. It was time they had a nice long talk. Apparently, during those conversations they’d had about whether she had a problem with him, she should have been asking a few questions of her own.