Last Virgin In California (Mills & Boon Desire) (22 page)

Everything inside Davis tightened a notch or two. She’d never been with a man before tonight, a possible pregnancy was hanging in the balance and yet, here she was, rekindling the fires between them. And he was leaping into the warmth she offered.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he said, thinking of the foil packets he’d been carrying around for the last few days in the hope he and Marie would come together. And naturally, when they did make love, he’d been so intent on her, he’d forgotten all about the little packages that could have saved them a couple weeks of worry.

She smiled at him again and it was a different smile. The age-old feminine smile that had been bringing men to their knees for centuries.

“Man,” he whispered, sliding his hand up the nape of her neck to thread his fingers through the black silk of her hair, “I thought virgins were supposed to be shy….”

“But as you pointed out a few minutes ago,” Marie told him as she leaned in for his kiss, “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“I stand corrected.”

“Oh,” she said softly, “don’t stand on my account.”

Two days later, Marie lay half under her mother’s kitchen sink and bonked her head hard when she sat up suddenly and asked, “Was that my phone?”

“No,” Gina said from her seat at the kitchen table. She turned the page of her magazine, shot Marie a quick, amused look and added, “just like it wasn’t your phone ten minutes ago, too.”

“So sue me,” Marie snapped, and eased her head
back down beneath the pipes. “I thought I heard something.”

“I’m not surprised you’re hearing bells the way you slammed your head into the bottom of the sink.”

Marie ground her teeth together, gripped the wrench handle more tightly, ignored her sister and tried to turn the frozen-in-place bolt again. Damn it, she didn’t have time for this. She should be at the shop working on Laura’s car. She should be Christmas shopping. She should be…with Davis.

That was the real problem, here. Not her mother calling her to help out with a plugged sink. Since their night together, Marie hadn’t heard a word from Davis Garvey. Nothing. No phone call, no visit to the garage, no drop-in at the apartment. It was as if in one magical night she’d found the love of her life and chased him off in the process.

“So who are we expecting to call?” Gina asked in a much-too-innocent-sounding tone. “Plumbers Unlimited?”

“Very amusing,” Marie said through gritted teeth. “When is Mama going to be back from the store?”

“There’s no telling. I get my love of shopping from Mom.”

“Well,” Marie said, “I’m never going to get this darn elbow joint off. We’ll have to call a plumber.”

“And tie up the phone line?” Gina countered, then
tsk-tsked
. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Marie squirmed out from under the sink, hefted the
wrench in one hand and looked at her sister. “Watch it, Gina. I’m armed and just a little cranky.”

Gina flipped the magazine closed, got up from the table and walked to where Marie was sitting on the floor. Then, squatting, she looked her sister dead in the eye. “It’s Davis, isn’t it?” she asked.

Marie shifted her gaze away and made a big production out of precisely placing her wrench back into the toolbox. She didn’t want to get into this with Gina. She didn’t want to have to admit out loud that not only had Davis left her—like every other guy she’d ever known—but that he’d left her in record time, carrying her virginity like a trophy.

Besides, she was making too big a deal out of this. She’d known all along that Davis wouldn’t be interested in her forever. And yet, only two nights ago, he’d seemed very interested indeed.

“This has nothing to do with Davis,” she said, forcing conviction into her voice. “It’s raining, I’ve got work backed up at the shop and I’m hip-deep in stubborn kitchen appliances only two weeks from Christmas. Isn’t that enough to make a person crabby?”

“Uh-huh,” Gina said, “but not enough to make a person imagine a telephone ringing.”

“A simple mistake.”

“Once maybe, but twice?”

“Maybe I should try the heat gun on that bolt,” Marie said. “It could warm up enough to turn.”

“Who cares?”

“Mama.”

“This is about Davis, isn’t it?” Gina demanded. “That’s why you’re not looking at me. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me for the last couple of days.”

Bingo, Marie thought, but didn’t say. Gina was way too observant.

“You’re nuts.”

“Then look me dead in the eye and deny you’re waiting to hear from Davis.”

“Fine.” Steeling herself to keep her emotions shuttered, Marie looked into Gina’s dark brown gaze and hoped her sister wouldn’t notice a thing.

“Ohmigod!” Gina sputtered.

Marie gasped and turned away, looking back at the floor, the ceiling, the windows, the darned sink that had brought her here in the first place.

But Gina wouldn’t be ignored. Not now, anyway. “You did it, didn’t you?” she asked, plopping onto the floor and grinning. “You and Davis did the deed!” She whooped, clapped her hands and actually chortled, “And the last Santini virgin bites the dust.”

Boy, her little sister was good. What did she have—radar?

R
ain drummed against the canvas, convertible roof of the Mustang and pinged off its hood and fenders. Davis parked at the curb in front of the Santini house and stared through the streaming passenger-side window at Marie’s apartment. Was it only two days ago he’d been here? Had it really only been two days since he’d spent hours wrapped around Marie’s willing, responsive body?

It felt longer.

He shoved one hand across the top of his head, then dropped that hand to the steering wheel. His fingers tapped out a rhythm to match the pounding rain as he reminded himself that he’d stayed away purposely. He’d wanted to give Marie some room.
Whether she admitted it or not, what had passed between them that night
was
a big deal. And he had to be sure she’d had time to think about what she wanted to do. He’d seen that softening gleam in her eyes that night and known it for exactly what it was. Reaction to the temporary closeness of lovemaking. But she’d been a virgin. She didn’t know that you could feel the same sense of intimacy with anyone.

“Liar,” he muttered to himself as the inside of the windows began to fog over. He’d been with enough women to know that what he’d found in Marie’s arms was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Something had happened between them. Something strong and elemental. Davis had touched and been touched on levels he hadn’t known existed.

And then he’d stayed away.

His right hand gripped the steering wheel tightly enough to snap it in two. Hell, by now Marie might be wishing she’d never heard of Davis Garvey. And though it’d probably be better for both of them if she told him to get lost, he hoped to hell she wouldn’t.

Two days without her had taught Davis one thing. How much he liked being with her. He’d missed seeing her smile, hearing her sing along to the oldies radio station she listened to. Missed the sound of her voice and her smart-aleck remarks.

Bottom line…he missed Marie.

Still, they had to talk. If they were going to keep seeing each other, then she had to know that as much
as he liked her, enjoyed being with her, there was no future in this.

“Oh, good idea, Marine,” he muttered darkly. Just the thing you should tell the woman who might be pregnant with your child. A flicker of something he didn’t want to call fear rippled through him. A child. He shook his head. No. Wouldn’t happen. No way would God sentence an innocent kid to a life with a father like him.

And on that happy thought, Davis opened the car door and stepped into the mouth of the storm.

“Give me details,” Gina demanded, leaning toward her sister, an eager expression on her face.

Outside, the wind whipped rain against the windows, rattling the panes, and the winter cold seemed to seep through the glass into Marie’s bones. She suddenly felt like a bug on a slide under a microscope. And knowing her sister, Marie was sure Gina wasn’t going to quit until she got the information she was after.

Of course, that didn’t mean she’d make it easy on Marie.

“No way,” Marie snapped, shaking her head. That night was special…secret. Sharing the memory of what had happened between her and Davis would make it less real, less
hers
. And she had a feeling that as the years passed away and she lived her life
alone, she’d be wanting to pull up the memories of that night. Often.

“Oh, c’mon,” her younger sister prodded. “The mighty Marie finally takes the plunge—this is news.”

“This is private,” Marie said flatly, even though she knew it wouldn’t stop the smiling woman facing her.

The Santini family was world-renowned for their stubbornness. The two of them entered a staring contest, each of them looking for signs of weakness in the other.

A long moment passed in silence, the only sound the rain tapping wildly at the windows. Finally though, Gina’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Folding her hands in her lap, she took a breath and said quietly, “At least, tell me what it was like.”

An interesting development.

Marie stared at her little sister as a surprising notion presented itself. Was it possible? she wondered, tipping her head to one side to study the other woman she’d thought she’d known so well. Could it be that big-talking, always-dating Gina wasn’t as experienced as she let everyone believe?

“What was it like?” Marie repeated at last. “Are you saying…?”

Gina shrugged, lifting both hands high in the air before letting them drop to her lap again. “What can
I say?” she said. “I lied. You weren’t the last Santini virgin. I am.”

Okay, Marie thought, stunned. This little piece of news ranked right up there with finding out the world really was flat, after all. Remembering all the times she’d taken Gina’s teasing about her lack of experience, Marie scowled and demanded, “Why?”

“Why not?” Gina countered, a bit defensively, Marie thought. “It’s nobody’s business what I do…or don’t do, right?”

Amazing.

“Oh, but my business was your business?”

“Sure,” Gina said with a grin. “That’s what sisters are for.”

Completely unrepentant and totally Gina.

“But—”

“But me no buts,” Gina interrupted her. “Just tell me if I have something good to look forward to.”

Good? That didn’t half cover it, Marie thought, remembering the liquid heat in Davis’s touch. The fires that had burned all night. The incredible sensation of reaching for a pleasure so deep, it almost scared you to claim it, only to grab it and find that it made you more complete than you ever thought you could be.

How could she explain to Gina what you couldn’t possibly understand until you’d discovered it for yourself? Like tuning a carburetor, you could learn
the steps, know what’s expected of you, but until you rebuilt one for yourself, you just couldn’t know what it was all about. And she could just imagine trying to look her sister in the eye while comparing sex to a carburetor.

Besides, how could she tell Gina how glorious it was and then admit that Davis had been avoiding her for two days? Nope, she told herself, she’d keep her comments short and sweet.

“Yeah, it’s good.” And as Gina smiled, Marie’s eyes closed on memories and she added, “With the right person, it’s wonderful.”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Gina asked.

Marie’s eyes flew open again and she stared at her sister. The brightly lit kitchen offered her no shadows to hide in, and sitting this close to the very observant Gina would make it impossible to disguise the emotion she knew was shining in her eyes. So why bother denying it?

Because that’s why.

“Of course not.” As a lie, it wasn’t much, but it was the best she could do.

“Yeah, I’m convinced,” Gina said, placing both hands on the floor behind her and leaning back.

“Good. Now leave me alone to fix this bloody sink.”

“Forget the stupid sink.”

“Mom thanks you.”

“Marie, I know you’re in love with him.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because—you wouldn’t have gone to bed with him otherwise.”

Simple, but true. “
Please
leave it alone, Gina.”

“Not gonna happen,” she said with a slow shake of her head.

One look at Gina’s determined features convinced Marie that—to borrow a quote from a popular science fiction character— “resistance was futile.”

Gina sensed her sister’s surrender and was prepared to be generous in victory. “So what’s the problem?” she asked softly.

“How much time do you have?”

Gina grinned. “As much as you need.”

“Problems, huh?” Marie asked. “Okay, let’s see. I’ve only known him for about a minute and a half…”

“Mama and Papa only knew each other a week before they got married. Worked for them.”

“That was different.” Marie turned and noisily searched through the toolbox for a smaller-headed wrench. “We have nothing in common except interest in cars. And I have the distinct feeling that if anyone mentioned the word
love
, Davis would take off so fast, and so far, a marine recon platoon wouldn’t be able to find him.”

“Why don’t you try it and find out?”

“Huh?” Marie’s head snapped up and she stared at her sister as if she was nuts.

“I said, try it.” Gina shrugged and smiled. “You’ve got nothing to lose. If he bolts, good riddance. If he doesn’t, we’ve got another romantic Santini story to hand down the generations.”

“Easy for you to say,” Marie said while her mind toyed with the idea of confessing her love. But how could she set herself up for rejection like that? What was she supposed to do when after hearing her out, Davis paled and said, “Thanks but no thanks”?

No. Better to just leave secrets unsaid and enjoy whatever time she had with him.

“And here’s your chance,” Gina crowed, looking past Marie to the window.

Marie followed her gaze. Through the rain she saw Davis knocking on her apartment door. Her heart did a quick spin in her chest and the fingers clutching the wrench suddenly weakened, dropping the tool into the box with a clatter of sound.

He’d come back.

Before Marie could do or say anything, Gina was on her feet, racing to the back door and throwing it open. Wind-thrust rain rushed into the kitchen as she shouted, “Hey, Davis. Marie’s over here.”

He turned, nodded and sprinted down the steps. Coming to a stop just inside the kitchen door, he raked his gaze around the warm, bright room until he
found Marie. Then he just looked at her with enough feeling that she felt her toes curl inside her shoes.

“You’re right on time,” Gina said, half dragging him into the room and closing the door against the storm.

Marie gave her sister a quick look. She wouldn’t put it past Gina to announce, “Marie’s in love with you, and what are you going to do about it?”

Apparently sensing what she was thinking, Gina grinned.

“For what?” he asked, still watching Marie.

She paused long enough to give Marie a heart attack before saying. “Mom needs that sink fixed and our little mechanic can’t seem to pull it off.”

Temporarily relieved, Marie shot her a glare before looking back at Davis. “You don’t have to help, really. I’ll get it.”

Gina, standing behind Davis, waved her arms and mouthed. “Don’t be dumb.”

Marie ignored her.

Davis did, too.

As far as he was concerned, there was no one else in the room besides him and Marie. The minute he locked eyes with her, his chest tightened and every breath became a battle. Damn, this was going to be harder than he’d thought.

“Well,” Gina said loudly enough to get their attention. “I guess I’ll leave you guys to the dirty work. Here, Davis.” she added, reaching for the shiny
wet windbreaker he wore, “I’ll hang this up on the service porch.”

“Thanks,” he said as he slipped out of the lightweight coat and handed it over. Gina left, and neither of them noticed. Gaze still fixed on Marie, he reminded himself that he was here to have a serious talk. To let her know that he wasn’t the root-bound kind of man she needed. Unfortunately, all he could think as he stared down at the ponytailed woman in blue overalls was how much he wanted her.

To combat the sexual urges raging inside him, he went down on both knees beside her and looked under the sink. It’d be best to keep his mind busy. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Just backed up,” she said, leaning down for another look herself.

Davis turned his head toward her and realized her face was just a kiss away from him. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and when her teeth tugged at her bottom lip, he felt the gnawing sensation deep in his guts. Oh, man, what the hell was happening here?

“It’s good to see you,” she said, and he felt the brush of her breath against his cheek.

“Good to see you, too,” he admitted. Good, great, fantastic. Seeing her was all of those things and more. But he wouldn’t—couldn’t—say so.

Instead, breaking the spell between them, he
turned away, crawled beneath the sink and rolled over onto his back.

“I think the elbow joint’s frozen,” she said.

Amazing to think that anything could be frozen when he was on fire, but there you go. “Hand me the wrench,” he said.

She did, and as he worked at the old pipes, he heard her say, “You’re good with your hands. Do the marines have you doing mechanical stuff?”

“Nope,” he said through gritted teeth as he forced the wrench down. “Just paperwork and riding herd on the rookies.”

“A waste of talent,” she said.

“Thanks,” he mumbled as the joint moved beneath the pressure. The next few minutes went quickly as they worked together like a seasoned team. In no time at all, they had the pipe clear and a new elbow joint installed.

She checked out his handiwork, then smiled in approval. “Like I said, a waste of talent.”

He scooted out from under the sink and took the towel Marie handed him. As he wiped the grease and dirt from his palms, he said, “I used to think about opening my own shop.”

“A shop?”

“Something like Santini’s, I guess,” he went on, half wondering why he was telling her this. It was an old dream. One he hadn’t really entertained in years. But over the last week or so, the time he’d spent at
Marie’s garage had somehow rekindled that nebulous dream. He hadn’t been able to tell her about it before, but now it seemed natural. It felt
right
, sitting here in this kitchen, beside her, with the storm raging outside.

“I wanted to restore classic cars,” he mused, thinking about the cars he had tucked away all over the country. He started talking and didn’t stop until he’d described his dream shop and the way he would run the business. When he finally finished, Davis couldn’t remember a time when he’d talked so much. Yet Marie didn’t look bored, she looked interested. In him. His dreams.

“Did you do the Mustang yourself?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said with a proud smile.

“Nice work.”

He nodded, accepting the compliment and relishing it all the more because he knew she was well aware of what went into such a job. Most people didn’t have a clue about these things. Marie and he could speak the same language.