Heat Exchange:The Alpha Billionaire's Virgin Book 1(5)

By: Deana Farrady

She swallowed. "No, that's not it. It's the story of my li-ife. Nice guys look right through me. It's only the cheating sleazeballs who ever come on to me."

Janey heard her own words and winced. She couldn't believe she was sitting here complaining to this guy about her lame love life.

His gaze moved over her again, this time more speculatively. Of course, her legs and arms blocked most of her body, but he seemed to see through them. "I can see why the sleazeballs, but I'm not getting the nice guys part."

Janey's jaw dropped. Had she just been insulted? "Thanks a lot," she said.

His eyes narrowed. "Did that offend you?"

"You just said you think I'm perfect for scumbags."

"You have a voluptuous body," he said. "Men want to fuck that. But I don't know why decent guys wouldn't, too. They're basically the same animal, with different shirts."

For a moment Janey couldn't breathe or talk. When she finally managed it, she said shakily, "You couldn't be more wrong."

"About what?"

"About guys wanting to…uh…be with me. I'm a virgin," she said bluntly. "I'm twenty-nine and I've never had sex with a man."

"You're gay?" His brow rose. He asked the question in that bemused way a person might say, "You've really never been to Canada?"

A laugh burst out of her. "I wish! I got so frustrated with the whole thing one time I tried to psyche myself up to become lesbian. That was a fail, too. My fantasies just wouldn't go there. It's males I like."

There was a minute of silence where she couldn't read his expression.


"You don't want to be a virgin?" he said.

"I don't care if I'm a virgin or not exactly. I just want to—" She blushed. "To know. What it's like. To feel—uh—"

"You want sex," he drawled. "With someone you won't catch a disease from."

"I could go off with one of the sleazeballs, I guess. I just haven't gotten that desperate yet."

His mouth slanted sardonically. "So why not ask some guy you know to fuck you?"

"They don't want to. Seriously," when he looked disbelieving. "Look at me!" She moved her legs down and spread her arms out. "I'm the classic girl next door. I'm the sister. I'm platonic city, Nyall. I'm not imagining it. Believe me. It's dogged me all my life." The tears were starting again. "I don't usually act this pathetic, but it's starting to get to me, you know? I don't understand your gender at all and I'm pretty sure at this point it's too late for me to ever be able to."

His lips twitched. "We're pretty simple."

"Yeah, right. I can't believe I'm talking to you about it, anyway," she muttered.

"You don't tell people about it?"

"Oh, sure, friends. But you're a stranger. Some strangers might be okay to talk to. But you're my last idea of a good confidante."

His amusement broke through in a laugh. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh, you know." She waved her hand dismissively. "Gorgeous. Sexy. Successful. Smooth. Out of my league."

As if to prove his popularity, his cell phone went off. He withdrew it from his pocket, but after one glance he put it back.

"Now, what were you saying?" he prompted, looking at her narrowly.

"Out of my league," she answered.

"Right. I take it you've heard of me?"

Her eyes widened. "No. Heard of you? Why, are you famous? Nyall Anderson," she said to herself. It didn't sound familiar.

He frowned, studying her. "No," he said finally. "I'm just a businessman."

She snorted. "A posh one, though, right? What do you do?"

"Start-ups," he said. "Starting them. Then selling them."

"I see," she said. "I have a small local catering business. Oh, I told you that already, didn't I? My specialty is allergy-friendly baking. Nut-free cookies. Seed-free bread. Dairy-free, egg-free donuts."

"I see." He stared at her.

She grinned. "Now you're hungry, aren't you, with all that food talk?"

"No, unlike you, I had lunch already. But you were saying about my being a bad confidante…"

"Oh, yeah. I'm talking about the whole package." She gestured vaguely at him. "The way you dress, the way you look, the way you live."

His tongue poked his cheek. "I see. Amazing what you can tell from first impressions," he drawled. "But what does all that have to do with who you talk to about losing your virginity?"

"I don't know. Just that if I were in a room full of people and had to pick someone to spill my soul to, you'd be the last person I'd approach. You're in a different universe from me."