Virgin Wanted

By: Sierra Cole

And as I’m still deliberating, I hear a sharp knock at the door. I quickly pad back through and here’s Helena, carrying a tray with an elegant silver-handled glass of steaming hot chocolate on it.

“I’ll leave you in peace,” she says with a brief nod and a smile, setting the tray down on a side table and then slipping out of the room once more.

I gingerly pick up the glass, lifting it to my lips and taking a small sip.

Oh my God.

She’s so right! The chocolate is absolutely delicious; sweet and milky and gorgeous – by far the best I’ve ever tasted.

Okay, so maybe I could start to get used to this kind of lifestyle after all, I think with a smile.


A few hours later, there’s a soft but stern knock on my door, and when I dash over to answer it, there’s Helena once again.

“Mr Whitelaw is ready for you now,” she announces. And then, not so subtly, she checks out my outfit from head to toe.

I’m wearing Louboutins: a black strappy sandal with a killer heel and a kind of cutout design so it looks like there are hearts weaving their way up my ankles. And even though they’re skyscraper high, to my surprise they’re also super comfortable, probably because they’re so perfectly designed, so finely balanced that there’s no uncomfortable pressure anywhere on your foot. It’s amazing. God damn, that man’s a genius, I think. And I’ve paired these amazing shoes with that amazing white and black Stella McCartney dress that first caught my eye.

“Not bad,” Helena says, begrudgingly impressed at my clothes choices. “Not bad at all.”

“Thanks,” I smile back, but she’s already turned and begun racing down the maze of corridors again at her usual breakneck pace.

I follow her as best I can, trying to keep up with her on these crazy heels, wondering if perhaps I should have chosen something a little smaller. But it’s too late for that, and before I know it, we’ve come to a halt outside a large ornate mahogany door, somewhere on the ground floor of this strange, sprawling house.

“Don’t look so terrified,” Helena says with a comforting little smile. “Just enjoy yourself.”

And with that she turns, leaving me all alone outside that huge door – behind which, I’m guessing, is Marcus Whitelaw.

I take a final deep breath and then use all my strength to heave open the huge, heavy wood of the door, and sure enough there he is behind it, sitting at a small dining table waiting for me.

The moment he sees me, he stands up, and the whole picture: the small beautifully lit room which looks like some kind of study, lined with thousands of leather-bound books, the deep mahogany of the floorboards, the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, the meticulously laid dining table, and of course Marcus: dressed in an immaculately tailored black suit, his blue-grey eyes blazing, his thick blonde hair shining in the flickering candlelight, and his full sensuous lips curling into a warm and inviting smile – well, the whole thing just takes my breath away.

And it seems like I’m not the only one.

“Wow,” he says the moment he sees me. “Just wow. I mean, I knew you were beautiful but that outfit? It’s just perfect ... I’m guessing Helena helped you choose it?”

I shake my head, feeling a flash of pride. “I picked it out myself,” I explain.

“Very good,” he says, nodding to himself, obviously impressed. “Very good indeed. It seems like you have a few hidden talents, Miss Adams.”

I stride towards him, once again trying to ignore the way my body seems to respond so damn powerfully whenever it’s anywhere near this totally gorgeous, devastating man, trying to just focus on remaining upright on my stilettos before I can finally sink down into the surprisingly comfortable dining chair which Marcus has walked around and pulled out for me like a true gentleman.

“Thank you,” I say, suppressing a smile as he heads back around to take his seat at the table opposite me.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, obviously noting my amused expression, despite my best efforts to hide it.

I shrug.

“Just ... everything, I guess?” I explain. “This room. You. The whole thing. It’s all just so unreal. It’s like something out of a fairytale.”

Top Books