Capelli's Captive Virgin. Sarah Morgan

bed was going to be empty.

      There was no shortage of beautiful, sophisticated women desperate for his attention. Women who wouldn’t waste time fighting him. Why would he be bothered about Lindsay’s refusal?

      And then he gave a wry smile, a flash of insight giving him the reason for his reaction.

      He hated losing.

      He absolutely hated losing, but it had been so long since he’d lost at anything that he hadn’t immediately recognised the feeling. And if there was one thing designed to send his competitive streak into overdrive, it was the concept of losing.

      Lindsay Lockheart represented a challenge. And when had a woman ever been a challenge to him?

      Aware that his driver was agitated about the time, he applied analytical skills to the problem. ‘Fine. If I hear from her before you do I’ll be sure to tell her that you cared about her. But not enough to do her job in her place. Have a good flight back.’ And with that carefully orchestrated parting shot he strode towards the car, wondering how long it would take.

      Three strides? Maybe four?

      ‘All right.’ Her voice stopped him on two and he smiled to himself as he turned because in the end it had been disappointingly easy.