Virgin Page 2

  I cannot have the police smell my mother. I cannot have anyone think less of my mother. I clean off the vomit. I change her nightdress. Her underwear looks yellowed and dirty. I pull it off her thin legs. Her smell is now overpowering. I run some hot water into a basin and squeeze some shower gel into it. Gently, I wash her body with a hand towel. Then I take a fresh set of clothes from the cupboard and dress her in them. I comb her hair and powder her face. I find a case of pink lipstick and carefully drag it over her cold lips. I liberally douse her body with perfume. Lily of the Valley. It stings my nose.

  I spray her bedclothes and the entire room with the same bottle.

  I don’t close the windows, because I’ve learned that her smell gathers very quickly when the windows are shut. The scent of her perfume is overpowering. There is no way for the other smell to overtake it. The police will be here soon.

  She looks quite pretty so I don’t cover her face.

  I don’t feel fear or pain. Comfortably numb, I sit on a chair and wait for the police to arrive. They come with an ambulance. The men pronounce her dead immediately and take her away on a stretcher.

  A policewoman sits me down at the kitchen table. She smiles kindly at me. “Where’s your father?” she asks.

  “I have no father.”

  She looks concerned. “Do you have grandparents?”

  I shake my head.

  “What about uncles and aunties?”

  I shake my head again. My mother was an orphan. She grew up in a foster care system that she hated. She always swore that she would never let the state get their hands on me. When social workers used to come to visit, both my mother and I would pretend that she had stopped drinking.

  She frowns. “Do you have no one at all?”

  I think of my father holding my half sister high above his head and swinging her around. I think of them laughing. I think of them going into the house with their presents. I think of the promise I made to my mother. I will never betray her. Not as long as I live.

  “No,” I say quietly.

  That slight hesitation makes her frown. “You will have to go to a foster home if you have no one. Are you sure you have absolutely no one?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” I say flatly. My voice rings in my head.

  Chapter One

  Tyson

  Present Day

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFhs7WVvuXk

  Thunder

  “For a fuckin’ tight bastard Brad Sommers sure knows how to throw a lavish party,” I observe, looking around the luxurious penthouse. It’s overflowing with beautiful people he has flown in from all over the world to enjoy his hospitality, admire his generosity, and envy his great fortune. This party is supposed to be in my honor, but in fact he wants the whole world to know he is the proud owner of Magnificent Obsession, the champion horse I bred for him.

  “Yeah,” Chaz agrees with a laugh. “When he throws a party, you have to look past the fact that he is a total dick. Anyway, you bloody deserve this bash. How do you do it? How can you tell that a three-year old foal will become a champion horse?”

  “I don’t know. I just do,” I say with a shrug. It’s true. There is no science to it. It is pure instinct. Horses are my work, my life, and my passion. I have no time for human beings. They are disloyal, greedy, cruel, ungrateful, self-obsessed, vain creatures. Horses. They are gentle beasts capable of great love. Every horse I have bred I have loved with all my heart.

  Kinda breaks my heart even now to know Magnificent Obsession will be the property of such a shallow philistine like Brad. He’ll never see her as anything more than an expensive bit of horseflesh with the potential to bring him the fame and adulation he craves. I wish she could’ve gone to someone a little more worthy of her. Somebody who could appreciate her as more than a fast set of hooves.

  Chaz throws an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, Tyson. I dare you to show me that all the legends about an Irishman’s ability to hold his liquor aren’t bullshit.”

  I chuckle at the challenge. Chaz has no idea. To start with he’s been drinking all afternoon, and is already halfway in the bag. Even if he wasn’t I could drink him under the table no problem. They didn’t call me Hollow Legs back at the young offender’s correctional institute in Ashfield for nothing. “You might find yourself regretting that challenge, my friend,” I warn.

  “Empty words,” he taunts with a cheeky smile.

  We make our way to one of the three bars set up for just the occasion and I order a double whiskey neat. Chaz wants to see what I can do? Why not?

  “There he is!” Brad’s enthusiastic voice booms over the party noises from across the room. I wince inwardly as I turn to face him. “The miracle worker! The man who’s gonna get me a permanent seat in the winner’s circle! You should come work for me. I promise to make it worth your while.”

  I laugh, but it’s strained. I regard him from above the rim of my glass. I received his payment for Magnificent Obsession, so I know how much coin he dropped on her, but even the idea of working for him makes my skin itch. “Let’s wait until she wins a few more times before you crown me.”

  “Look at all that modesty.” His eyes glitter with excitement.

  To a man like him she will always be just an investment. He will never see beyond her shining perfect form. If she was injured tomorrow he would never suffer other than to regret the investment.

  He slings a hand up to my shoulders, and I smell sweet champagne on his breath. “So how do you like it?” he asks, swinging his arm in an arc to encompass the entire suite. It’s grand, to be sure, with its high ceilings—four or five meters, in my estimation—and windows which stretch the full height and length of three walls, granting guests an incredible night view of the twinkling lights of Paris. Fuck knows what he paid for the privilege.

  “It’s like sitting on a cloud, looking down on the city below,” I sum up.

  Throwing his head back, he starts cackling like a fucking hyena, the action pitches him off-balance and he starts to fall backwards. I catch him in time to keep him from cracking his head open on his fine Italian marble floor. He pats me on the hand as I set him upright.

  He winks at me. “Magnificent Obsession is a hell of a lot prettier and faster than any blue-chip share.”

  If I stay around him any longer my fist is going to end up connecting with his jaw. I take a belt from my whiskey. I look around and wonder where the hell Chaz escaped to.

  He leans against the bar and looks at me with a sly expression. “Actually, I could introduce you to a few pretty things that are so fast they’ll make you see Jesus!”

  Before I can react, he signals to a woman in a long red dress and she immediately starts walking towards us. One look at her and I can see that she is a high-class hooker. I finish my whiskey and signal to the bartender to refresh my drink.

  “Hellllllllo,” she drawls.

  “Be nice to him,” Brad says, and walks away.

  “Gosh, you’re a good looking one,” she says looking up into my eyes and running her manicured nails along my jacket lapel. Her perfume lingers in the air between us.

  “Listen, I’m flying out tonight. So this might not be such a good idea …” I shrug.

  “I don’t need the whole night,” she whispers.

  I take her hand in mine and put it on the bar. “Thanks sweetheart, but I’m not really in a party mood tonight.”

  “That’s a pity. We would have had a great time together,” she says, and even manages to look regretful.

  I leave her and take a slow walk around the perimeter of the room. It seems like some of the most beautiful women in Europe are gathered in Brad’s vast living room.

  “See anything you like?” Chaz asks from my side.

  “How the hell do you randomly pop up out of nowhere?” I ask with a frown. “And while I’m at it, where the fuck did you disappear to while I was trying to keep myself from punching Brad in the mouth?”

  “Oh, sorry about that,” he say
s with a sly grin. “I was busy. A redhead pulled me aside and asked me a thousand questions about you. Beauty she was too … fucking legs that went up to her neck.”

  I take a sip of my whiskey. “Really now? Why didn’t she come up to me herself?”

  He shrugs. “I’m not as intimidating as you. Women see a short guy with a dad bod and automatically think he’s easy to talk to. One of the many misconceptions I have to deal with on a daily basis.”

  “Like they don’t warm up real quick when they find out how full your bank accounts are,” I say dryly.

  “If I can keep them hanging around long enough to find out,” he points out, laughing.

  I scan the room lazily, my eyes traveling over the many firm, half-naked bodies, some of which sway in time with the music pumping out of Brad’s exceptional sound system. More than a few of them notice me sizing them up and flash “come hither” smiles my way. I’ve learned to not let it go to my head … too much. I’m only a man, after all. “Which one is she?” I ask.

  “There she is.” Chaz points across the room to a corner. Four girls sitting on a sofa. Sure enough, one of them is a stunning redhead. Porcelain skin, sapphire eyes, and a body that would tempt the devil himself. Yes, she’s very tasty, but it’s not her my eyes can’t get enough of. It’s the girl sitting next to her.

  “Who’s the girl on her left?” I ask, eyes glued.

  “Which one? The blonde?”

  “Yeah. The blonde.”

  “No idea, mate. If you’re not going to have the redhead …”

  He’s still talking, but I stop hearing him. I can’t break focus. The blonde is all I can look at, all I can think about. Her hair shines like gold, and she swings it from side to side as she laughs at something one of her friends said. The light shines directly on her and her eyes are emeralds, sparkling and clear. Her full lips curve into a smile as she playfully shoves the redhead.

  Chapter Two

  Izzy

  “Don’t start,” I warn, slapping Kylie’s arm.

  “What?” she protests, pretending innocence. “I’m just saying that Paris slash this party could be a great place for you to find a man to pop your cherry.”

  “I’m not here to find a man to … to … pop my cherry, as you so elegantly put it. I’m here to attend Charlotte’s wedding tomorrow,” I splutter with embarrassment. I can’t believe this topic has come up again.

  “Far be it for me to agree with Kylie,” Lina pipes up, “but she does have a point. We are in the city of love. I mean, look around you. What better place to find a lover than here? I’ve seen at least three guys that I’d personally love to climb up. Plus, we’re in a foreign country. Other than us no one else need ever know. You could let your hair down, be completely slutty, do whatever you want, as long as it’s legal, of course, and be back at work on Monday with no one the wiser.”

  I sigh heavily. How I wish I had never told Charlotte I was still a virgin. She told Lina, Lina told Catherine, Catherine told Kylie, and now every damn person in our circle knows. If I didn’t believe in my own convictions so strongly I would be almost tempted to lose my virginity just to stop them gossiping and speculating endlessly about my sex life.

  “What are you waiting for, anyway?” Kylie joins in gleefully. “You’re already twenty-two. Your poor pussy is going to shrivel up and die if you carry on depriving her of her protein shake. Sex is a healthy thing. Think of it as a sport.”

  Both Lina and Catherine laugh at the joke. I lean forward and speak earnestly, willing them to understand, even though I know there is not a hope in hell that I will convince them. “For me sex is not a bit of sport. I want my first time to be with the guy of my dreams. I want it to mean something special. I want it to be,” I pause, “everything.”

  “Oh, Izzy, Lina says with a sigh. “You are going to be very disappointed if that is what you imagine losing your virginity is all about. The first time is only great in romance novels. Unless you find a man with a magic penis it’s going to be painful, awkward, and messy. There might even be blood.”

  I frown. I don’t want to hear their well-meaning advice. I know it’s going to be painful. I know there might be blood. But they are still talking about it from a physical perspective. They don’t understand. I’m talking about the deep emotional connection between a man and a woman. Maybe I’m a fool, maybe they are right, such a thing doesn’t exist. But I’m not giving up on my dream.

  “Once I wanted everything too,” Kylie says, flicking her flame colored hair forward. “Now, I’d settle for a man who can give me one night of great mindless sex. Like that horse trainer guy that this party is in honor of, Tyson Eden. Oh my God! He’s so delectable I want to throw my panties at him. His reputation is love ‘em and leave ‘em, but by God, I would let him fuck me until I couldn’t walk straight.”

  Lina laughs loudly. “I think I just want a man who will take good care of me financially. Some of these men are so wealthy they could set you up for life. Someone like Brad Sommers. He gave his last girl an apartment in Knightsbridge and a sports Mercedes. Even after he broke up with her he still paid for all her credit card bills. He only stopped when she hooked up with that Polo player.”

  I crinkle my nose. “I’d rather be a spinster for the rest of my life than end up with any of the men in here. They’re all way out of my league. Too rich and glamorous for me. I’m not interested in a man who is so wealthy he could have any woman. I mean, why would such a man settle down with one woman? The temptation would be incredible. All I want is an ordinary man that I can have a family with.”

  “That’s very sweet, Izzy,” Lina says, “but don’t you think you’re being a bit naïve? Trust me when I say, without money love will fly out of the window so fast it’ll leave you reeling.”

  “I think you’re wrong,” I insist stubbornly. “Real love doesn’t need money. I’d prefer to live in a cold, cramped apartment with a man I love than in a palace with one I don’t. I’m looking for my soulmate.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a goose. There is no such thing as a soulmate. Show me a relationship that lasts and I’ll show you a woman who is making all kinds of sacrifices and compromises to make it work. You’re crazy if you think you’ll find a man like that. Any man, rich or poor, would cheat given half the chance. If I could have a man like Brad Sommers I’d be set for life. Who cares about hearts and flowers? I’ll settle for throbbing chemistry, diamonds and Guccis.”

  I put my cocktail glass down. “Okay, you girls have fun. I have to get back to the hotel. I promised Charlotte that I’d go out early and get replacement ribbons for her.”

  “Don’t be such a party pooper.” Kylie groans. “Things have not even begun to warm up yet and you’re already wanting to leave. Do you know how many arms I had to twist to get us on the guest list?”

  “Bullshit,” calls Lina. “You flirted with one of the bouncers and he sneaked us in.”

  “I don’t see you getting us into any happening parties,” Kylie snaps back.

  “Look, I’m really sorry. I don’t want to ruin the night for anybody,” I apologize to everyone at the table. “You guys know this is not my kind of scene. I’m a simple person. I like babies and dogs and I’m happiest when I’m at home in my PJs with a good book and a box of chocolates.”

  Catherine shakes her head despairingly. “You’re going to waste your life away, babe. One day you’ll look in the mirror and think where the fuck did my youth go, but it will be too late then.”

  “Oh my God, yes! Tall, dark and hunky alert at four o’clock,” Lina mouths, her eyes enormous. “Look, but not all at once, please. Since you’re the virgin you may look first, Izzy.”

  “For God’s sake it’s not a disease, you know,” I mutter, trying not to grit my teeth with irritation.

  “I’ll look,” Lina offers brightly. She toys with her earring before turning her head casually. Very calmly she swivels around and looks at me with widened eyes. “Jesus H Christ. There is a hot devil wearing black
jeans and … he’s staring right at you, Izzy.”

  “Whoa … and he hasn’t even seen your big, heart-shaped butt yet,” Catherine quips.

  “Don’t be so silly,” I grumble, feeling myself flush with embarrassment. It’s obvious that if he has both Lina and Catherine open-mouthed with wonder then he is definitely not staring at me when the whole place is crawling with beauties and models.

  “See for yourself if you don’t believe me, but take six deep breaths first,” she says.

  Something about her widened eyes makes my stomach contract nervously.

  “Hang on. Hang on,” Kylie cuts in suddenly. “That guy is mine. That’s Tyson Eden, the horse guy that I was telling you about. I saw him first so you all can just lay off him, okay?”

  But nothing can stop my head from turning. From looking at the devil himself.

  Chapter Three

  Tyson

  “Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere,

  they are in each other all along.”

  - Rumi

  When she turns her head and looks at me, she might as well have punched me in the gut. Our eyes lock and all the air escapes my lungs. Desire, hot and urgent, claws in my gut. I want to do things to her I have never done to any other woman. At that moment the craving is so strong I could have climbed any mountain, swam any ocean to have her. If I don’t end up between her creamy legs tonight, my name is not Tyson.

  “Earth to Tyson,” Chaz laughs. “Wow. She sure did something to you, pal. Do you need a ride to the jewelers to pick up a ring?”

  “Stuff it,” I growl. He’s still laughing as I head for her table. No way I’m letting her out of my sight. I need to know her. I need to do more, far more, than know her. My blood throbs in my veins and my cock shoves against the zipper of my jeans.