CHAPTER ONE
IVY KENNEDY WAS at the hairdresser’s when she found a solution to her virginity problem. The answer was in the very first gossip magazine she flicked through. Truth be told, the answer had been under her nose for years, but it hadn’t been until now that she’d had her Aha! moment.
Louis Charpentier—the king of one-night stands and her older brother’s best friend. Her problem solved. Who knew that getting highlights could be the highlight of your week? Your month? Your year?
Sarina, the hairstylist, glanced over Ivy’s shoulder at the magazine article and whistled through her teeth. ‘Gosh, isn’t Louis Charpentier enough to stop your heart? I swear that man should come with a warning. He’s so gorgeous, I’m getting a hot flash just looking at his photo. I hear he’s won Hottest Bachelor of the Year again. How many times is that now? Three?’
‘Four.’
Ivy turned the page over but surreptitiously used her left thumb as a bookmark. She wanted another look at Louis without the hairdresser drooling over her shoulder.
She gave what she hoped would pass as an indifferent shrug and added, ‘He’s okay, I guess.’
For years Louis had been nothing more than her brother Ronan’s best friend. Handsome enough, but not enough to ‘tempt her,’ to borrow a phrase from Jane Austen. But, with her thirtieth birthday rapidly approaching, and her status as a virgin unchanged, she had to do something—and soon.
How was she ever going to find a partner in life unless she did something about her embarrassing intimacy issues? She’d spent most of her adult life finding any excuse she could to avoid dating, out of fear. Fear of being naked with a man and him finding her not good enough. Fear of being hurt. Fear of falling in love with someone only for them to dump her.
But she was about to turn thirty, and she had to push past this road block in her life. Thirty. Eek! Who’d ever heard of a thirty-year-old virgin these days?
And who better to fix her little problem than Louis, who was super-experienced at seduction. How could her inhibitions around sex be solved any other way? It would be awkward and cringe-worthy, asking him, but she couldn’t bear the thought of asking anyone else.
She wanted someone she knew and trusted to help her, not some casual hook-up who might laugh at her or mock her for still being a virgin at her age. Or make rude comments about her body, like one of her erstwhile dates. Louis wasn’t a stranger, he was a friend... Well, perhaps a ‘friend,’ inverted commas, would be more accurate.
Now that her brother had emigrated to Australia to be with his partner Ricky, Ivy only saw Louis for a coffee or lunch now and again. And she’d had to cancel the last time due to a large shipment of antiques arriving from France at the store where she worked as a curator.
Ivy knew that if she didn’t act on her decision this very afternoon she might lose her courage and not act at all. She only had a month until she turned the big Three O, but she wanted to experience the Big O well before then. The birthday clock was ticking like a bomb.
She took a deep breath, opened the magazine again and studied Louis’ distinctive features. Tall and dark, with his smoky blue-grey gaze brooding in an I-don’t-quite-know-what-he’s-thinking kind of way, he was the epitome of heart-stopping gorgeousness. She traced the firm line of his mouth in the photo and began to imagine how it would feel pressed to her own. Her eyes went further down the photo to his strongly muscled thighs and a soft flutter of nerves wafted through her belly.
She closed the magazine with a definitive snap. Yep. He was The One. Not as in a happily-ever-after The One, but the perfect solution to her embarrassing problem.
All she had to do was convince him.
Louis Charpentier was doing the final drafts of a major architectural project in his London office when his secretary buzzed him on the intercom.
‘Louis? There’s—’ she began.
‘I said no interruptions this afternoon, Maureen.’ He injected his tone with stern authority. Why couldn’t his temporary secretary obey his simple instructions, for God’s sake? He was on a tight deadline and the client was difficult and demanding. Story of his life. What was it about him that attracted the most demanding clients? No doubt the same bad-luck fairy that had given him difficult and demanding parents.
‘I’m sorry, but there’s a Miss Ivy Kennedy here to see you. She hasn’t made an appointment but she insists it’s important she sees you as soon as possible. She says she’s the sister of a close friend of yours. Will I send her in or tell her to come back some other time?’
Louis pushed his computer mouse to one side and scraped a hand through his hair. What could be wrong? Ivy had cancelled the last time he’d suggested they have lunch. Her brother Ronan had asked him to keep an eye on her when he’d emigrated to Australia. Louis enjoyed his occasional catch-ups with Ivy, but he tried not to notice her in any way that could be even loosely described as sexual. Not easy to do when she looked so damn sexy without even trying. But messing with his best mate’s kid sister was a no-go zone. Ivy was the hanging out for the fairy tale, the forever love. She was the wanting-to-have-babies type. He was the sleep-with-them-once-and-move-on-without-looking-back type. They had zilch in common other than her brother Ronan. Besides, his best mate had experienced enough trouble coming out to his family without Louis adding more to the mix.
Louis pressed the button on the intercom. ‘Send her in. And hold all my calls until she leaves. Understood?’
‘Got it.’
The door opened and Louis rose from behind his desk, his eyes scanning the pint-sized whirlwind that came in. With almost waist-length wavy red-gold hair, periwinkle-blue eyes, Celtic alabaster skin and a full-lipped mouth, Ivy Kennedy looked as if she had stepped out of another era—apart from her clothes, of course. He tried not to stare too long at her slim legs encased in blindingly white jeans, and the way her black V-neck cashmere sweater outlined the firm up-thrust of her small but perfect breasts. She was wearing burgundy heeled, pointy-toed ankle boots that highlighted the daintiness of her ankles. But even with the boost of her heels she still didn’t make it up to his shoulder.
‘Hello Ivy.’ His voice came out a little huskier than he’d intended, and he was conscious of the effort it took to keep his gaze away from the ripe, plump curve of her mouth. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Louis, I hope you don’t mind me coming to see you like this, but I have a problem and I think you’re the only one who can help me.’ Her voice was breathless and twin circles of colour formed on her cheeks.
Louis was never sure whether to greet her with a kiss on the cheek or a hug but, given the way his groin was stirring just now, a hug was very definitely out.
Maybe his self-imposed celibacy was a mistake. Mr Amazing One-Night Stand was taking a much-needed sabbatical. How long had it been? Three, or was it four, months? He stayed behind his desk and waved a hand to the chair in front of the desk reserved for clients. ‘Please, sit down.’