The Ruthless Billionaire's Virgin. Susan Stephens

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СКАЧАТЬ stride. ‘We can take all the time in the world if you want the paparazzi to find you.’

      ‘You know I don’t want that!’ Okay, no reason to worry, Savannah told herself. They would fly straight to the airport in Ethan’s helicopter, from where she’d fly home. Traffic snarl-ups were reserved for mere mortals like herself. In no time Ethan would be back in his seat at the stadium ready for the second half, while she returned to England and her nice, safe fantasies. Perfect.

      Or at least it was until a door burst open and the press-hounds barrelled out. It only took one of them to catch sight of Ethan and Savannah for the whole pack to give chase.

      ‘This way,’ Ethan commanded, swinging Savannah in front of him. Opening a door, he thrust her through it and, slamming it shut, he shot the bolt home.

      If she hadn’t left her sensible sneakers in the tunnel she might have been able to run faster, Savannah fretted as Ethan took the stairs two at a time, but now the straps on her stratospheric heels were threatening to snap.

      ‘Leave them!’ he ordered as she bent down to take them off. ‘Or, better still, snap those heels off.’

      ‘Are you joking?’

      ‘Take them off!’ he roared.

      ‘I’m going to keep them,’ Savannah insisted stubbornly.

      ‘Do what you like with them,’ he said, snatching hold of her arm, half-lifting her to safety down another flight of steps. ‘And hitch up your skirt while you’re at it, before you trip over it,’ he said, checking outside the next door before rushing her out into the open air again. ‘Your skirt—hitch it up!’

      Hitch it up? The photographers would surely be on them in moments, and when that happened she didn’t want to look like a…

      ‘Do it!’

      ‘I’m doing it!’ she yelled, startled into action. But she wouldn’t ruin the shoes her mother had bought her. Or Madame’s dress. Slipping off her high-heeled sandals as quickly as she could, Savannah bundled up the gown, noting she barely reached Ethan’s shoulder now. Also noting he barely seemed to notice her naked legs, which shouldn’t bother her, but for some reason did.

      ‘Come on,’ he rapped impatiently, still averting his gaze. ‘There’s no time to lose.’ Taking her arm, he urged her on.

      Savannah was totally incapable of speech by the time they’d crossed the car park. Yet still Ethan was merciless. ‘There’s no time for that,’ he assured her when she rested with her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

      Straightening up, she stared at him. She didn’t know this man. She didn’t know anything about him, other than the fact that his reputation was well deserved. The Bear was a dark and formidable man, whom she found incredibly intimidating. And she was going who knew where with him. ‘You still haven’t told me where we’re going.’

      ‘There’s no time!’

      ‘But you do have a helicopter waiting?’

      ‘A helicopter?’ Ethan glanced towards the roof where the helipad was situated.

      He had a helicopter there, all right, she could see the logo of a bear on the tail. She could also see the scrum of photographers gathered round it.

      ‘A useful distraction,’ Ethan told her with satisfaction.

      A red herring, Savannah realised, to put the paparazzi off the trail. ‘So what now?’

      ‘Now you can sit,’ he promised, dangling a set of keys in front of her face.

      Ah…She relaxed a little at the thought that life was about to take on a more regular beat. She should have known Ethan would have a car here. His driver would no doubt take them straight to the airport, where the helicopter would meet him and she would fly home. She was guilty of overreacting again. Ethan was entitled to his privacy. He’d taken her out of reach of the paparazzi and saved her and her parents any further humiliation. She should be grateful to him. But she still felt a little apprehensive.

      CHAPTER THREE

      EVEN with the knowledge that comfort was only a few footsteps away, Savannah reminded herself that this was not one of her fantasies and Ethan was no fairy-tale hero. He was a cold, hard man who inhabited a world far beyond the safety curtain of a theatre, and as such she should be treating him with a lot more reserve and more caution than the type of men she was used to mixing with.

      ‘Put this on.’

      She recoiled as he thrust something at her, and then she stared at it in bewilderment. ‘What’s this?’

      ‘A helmet,’ he said with that ironic tone again. ‘Put it on.’ When she didn’t respond right away. he gave it a little shake for emphasis.

      It was only then she noticed the big, black motorbike parked up behind him and laughed nervously. ‘You’re not serious, I hope?’

      ‘Why shouldn’t I be serious?’ Ethan frowned. Dipping his head, he demanded, ‘You’re not frightened of riding a bike, are you?’

      ‘Of course not,’ Savannah protested, swallowing hard as she straightened up. Was she frightened of sitting on a big, black, vibrating machine pressed up close to Ethan?

      ‘If you have any better suggestions, Ms Ross…?’

      Watching Ethan settle a formidable-looking helmet on his thick, wavy hair, she mutely shook her head.

      ‘Well?’ he said, swinging one hard-muscled thigh over the bike. ‘Would you care to join me, or shall I leave you here?’

      She was still staring at the tightly packed jeans settled comfortably into the centre of the saddle, Savannah realised. ‘No…no,’ she repeated more firmly. ‘I’m coming with you.’ Remembering the door incident, she already knew he took no prisoners. Holding up her skirt, she hopped, struggled, and finally managed to yank her leg over the back of the bike—which wasn’t easy without touching him.

      ‘Helmet?’

      As Ethan turned to look at her, Savannah thought his eyes were darker than ever through the open visor—a reflection of his black helmet, she told herself, trying not to notice the thick, glossy waves of bitter-chocolate hair that had escaped and fallen over the scars on his forehead. But those scars were still there, like the dark side of Ethan behind the superficial glamour of a fiercely good-looking man. Her stomach flipped as she wondered how many more layers there were to him, and what he was really thinking behind those gun-metal-grey eyes.

      ‘Helmet,’ he rapped impatiently.

      Startled out of her dreams, she started fumbling frantically with it.

      ‘Let me,’ he offered.

      This was the closest they’d been since the stadium, and as Ethan handled the catch he held her gaze. In the few seconds it took him to complete the task every part of her had been subjected to his energy, which left her thrumming with awareness. And he hadn’t even started the engine yet, Savannah reminded herself as a door banged open and a dozen or so photographers piled out. Snapping his own visor into position, Ethan СКАЧАТЬ