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But how different was she really?
Maybe she’d finally discovered the truth about sex—about how wonderful and exciting and liberating it could be. But had it really made her any more mature?
Because she’d discovered something else while she’d been exploring the joys of sex in Roman’s arms. The act was also scarily intimate and intense.
Even though Roman was still a stranger, because she hadn’t made any effort to get to know him before she’d fallen into bed with him. But maybe she should have.
The truth was, shehadused him, to lose her virginity. And she hadn’t given him a choice in the matter. She’d been reckless and impulsive and done what had felt right in the moment, just as she’d done when she’d made the decision to leave London with only a backpack and less than two hundred euros in her purse. Or when she’d argued with her sister on the palazzo terrace in Capri and then borrowed the wrong boat. And now, as Roman had so helpfully pointed out, she would once again have to face the consequences.
A rap on the door made her jump.
‘Time’s up, Milly.’ Roman’s voice was husky and tense, but at least not mad. ‘You need to stop hiding in there now.’
She bristled slightly at the dictatorial tone, and tied the robe tighter.
If only she could stay in here for the foreseeable future. Because she did not want to have this conversation.
‘Could you hand me my clothes?’ she said, because she had no intention of having this conversation naked.
‘Sure,’ he said, being surprisingly helpful, for Roman. He must really be freaked out.
A minute later, he tapped on the door again. She clicked the lock, and grabbed the clothes in his outstretched hand, before shutting the door and locking it again.
‘You’ve got five minutes,’ he said.
She got dressed slowly, making sure she took at least ten, just because. But then felt like a spoilt brat again.
She sighed.
Stop making this harder than it needs to be.
She owed Roman an apology. And the sooner she got it over with, the sooner she could leave. Because she doubted he would want her to stay the night now... Which only made her feel like an even bigger failure.
Little Miss Screw-Up goes large again.
CHAPTER FIVE
ROMANWAITEDIMPATIENTLYon the terrazzo, aware of his housekeeper giving him the evil eye as she laid out the lavish lunch he’d ordered while waiting for Milly to put in an appearance.
‘Do you want anything else,signor?’ Giuliana asked in Italian, the question perfectly polite, the tone anything but. His housekeeper hadn’t commented on the young woman still hiding in his bathroom, but it had been fairly obvious what she—and no doubt her husband and the rest of his staff—were already thinking.
That their boss was a vile seducer who had taken advantage of poor little Milly Devlin today, after kidnapping her last night. From the sharp, judgmental frown on the older woman’s face, he was probably fortunate she hadn’t already called thepolizia.
‘No, grazie, Giuliana,’ he said, grateful when she gave a stiff nod and left.
If only he could dismiss Giuliana’s judgment as easily. He knew full well Milly had enjoyed her time in his bed, she’d even begged him for release—more than once. Damn it.
But the niggling feeling of shame remained lodged in his solar plexus.
At least, he had managed to calm down enough in the shower to get things in perspective—and make some crucial observations while waiting for Giuliana to finish serving the lunch.
He’d overreacted. That much was obvious. Just because he’d taken a woman’s virginity, it didn’t make him anything like his old man. After all, he hadn’t done it deliberately. Milly’sinnocence, and her hyper-responsiveness to him, had captivated him and made him want her, a lot, but who said the two were linked? And anyway, how could he have known her innocence was genuine, when she hadn’t told him he was her first?
And if he hadn’tknownshe was a virgin, how could he be accused of deliberately exploiting her innocence, like the man who had seduced his mother as a teenager, made her his mistress, got her pregnant and then dumped her without a backward glance.
Roman might be rich, but he’d given Milly a clear choice and she’d taken it. And unlike his mother, who had been barely eighteen and still at school when she’d had the bad luck to catch his father’s roving eye, Milly could hardly be described as fragile or vulnerable. Not only was she more than capable of holding her own with him, she’d tried to steal his boat!
They were consenting adults, with a rare, visceral chemistry that they had both enjoyed. And most importantly of all, he’d worn a condom. He hadn’t been careless or cavalier, he’d protected her. Plus, he’d been aware of her pleasure, every step of the way.
