I found Cressida in the greenhouse on the second level of my villa. This state-of-the-art, temperature-controlled greenhouse was home to my vast collection of exotic flowers from around the world. I probably had the most awesome botanical gardens in the whole East Coast. Sadly, not many people had witnessed the beauty of it. I was a very private person.

It was fascinating how she blended well into this. She didn’t fit the bill. I hadn’t pegged her to be a nature person. She lived the urbane life of the typical socialite whose daily existence consisted of looking good in public and in the pages of those glossy magazines.

I’d been observing her quietly for a few minutes now. I’d arrived here after a grueling schedule. Meetings in three states. I was aboard my chopper longer than I was in the boardrooms.

That was my daily routine. Work, work and more fucking work. But I couldn’t wait to leave those meetings to see her again. She was all I could think about.

But now that I was here, I didn’t want to interrupt her little moment. I felt a strange joy that Cressida was enjoying my little paradise. I didn’t know how I’d longed for someone to share my gardens with, until now. The sheer happiness radiating from her as she traipsed around smelling the blooms, touching the petals reverently, emitting sounds of appreciation, was simply too beautiful to behold.

I bet she’d sound like that when I finally touched her body.

Her innocent body.

My gut clenched. I’d been hard on and off from sporadic thoughts of her the past days. I was the most cynical bastard this side of the globe but I just couldn’t shake her off my system. In this regard, she’d scored big, I’d give her that. She managed to catch my attention and hold it. Hold it strong enough to make me do something uncharacteristic of me.

Was she telling the truth? Was she really a virgin? Pure? Untouched?

There was an old saying about curiosity killing the cat.

It was a good thing I was a fucking shark.

“That’s a species from Malaysia called P. Rothschildianum or the Gold of Kinabalu.”

I jumped at the sound of his voice.

He appeared beside me like a magician, so stealthy for such a big man. I thought I was alone all along. I’d been running around the greenhouse like a wild child. How much did he see?

“Mr. Landis!” I said, feeling breathless. It wasn’t because I was running around. His presence was almost overwhelming, like the first time we met at his office. The huge greenhouse seemed to have shrunk the moment he came in.

My heart was suddenly racing.

He was staring at me and I wondered if he could read my thoughts. He must not know how he made me feel.

“You like what you see?”

Yes, very much. “Uhm…”

“This orchid.” He reached out to touch the orchid I was scrutinizing.

He meant the orchid, not HIM, silly. “Uh, yes, it looks so unique.”

“She really is. She’s a very rare species that’s why she has her own little corner in this place. It takes a while for her to bloom.”

He was talking about the orchid like it was a real person. How fascinating. “How long?”

“Fifteen years.”

“Oh.” I thought I knew plants but the man was on another level. I’d spent the past two hours roaming Camelot, awed by everything I saw. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that Joshua loved plants. Adolf told me that Joshua spent his free time tending to the gardens. It was so at odds with his public persona. The Conqueror of Wall Street loved to garden! Imagine that!

“You’ve had her for a long time then?”

“Five years. I bought her from another collector in Asia for a small fortune. He’s had her for ten years. I figured I only had to wait another five to see her bloom, so…here it is.”

His voice softened as he gazed at the orchid, his eyes glowing as if he was so proud he’d made it bloom under his care. I was entranced, watching him intently. I had a feeling I was seeing a side of Joshua that very few people had seen.

“You must love it so much, then.”

He looked at me and smiled. It was a different smile. This must be his real smile. It lit up his entire face, and God, he was even more handsome when relaxed and—

Stop it.

“It’s very rare, not easily acquired, so yeah, it has some value to me. I like uniqueness and I like to hunt for what I really want, fight for it to be mine.”

“Sometimes the best things in life don’t need to be chased or fought for. They find you because they know they belong to you.”

I didn’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t have said that. We were not friends. Those were thoughts I only shared to people I was fond of. I didn’t like Joshua at all, but right this moment in the middle of his greenhouse, God, he was easy to like.

I felt like he was touching me with his intense gaze, but he was not. He was simply looking at me with those eyes as blue as the summer skies.

“Do you like plants, Miss Madden?”

“Yes, I do. I’ve always wanted to be a botanist.”

“Not interested in Wall Street like your father?”

“Well, my father’s deal was, I’d finish a business degree first, then I can choose my masters. I plan to take up Horticulture…when I’d get to continue college, that is.”

“You’re not in school now?”

“I was in my third year at Columbia, but things happened. I had to postpone college indefinitely.” I said the last part in a rush, not wanting to break the moment with the ugly reality looming between us.

He nodded. I prayed that he won’t latch on the subject. Not just yet. I wasn’t in a fighting mode yet.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. Meetings, you know? But I can see you weren’t bored.”

“I…no, not at all. You have a beautiful home, Mr. Landis.”

“Thank you. I believe we need a proper introduction to each other.”

His hands cupped my face.

Oh Lord…Is he…?

He did. Kiss me. In the most beautiful way.

I closed my eyes. I couldn’t help it.

His kiss engulfed me, swept me away into a magical place where only him and I existed.

His lips were soft and warm and gentle as it moved languidly on mine. I tasted just a bit of him and it went to my head like a potent drug.

This was my first real kiss, and it was everything I’d ever imagined. I just didn’t expect it to come from this man.

“Call me, Josh.”

It took me a moment to realize he was no longer kissing me.

“My parents call me Cress,” I replied belatedly.

“I think I’ll call you, Cressy.”

I smiled, still shaken to the core, my insides fluttering like crazy, my fingers and toes hot, and my private parts shamelessly tingling. “Sounds crazy, but I like it,” I replied dumbly.

He chuckled. “I like crazy, too.”

The scourge of The Excalibur Tower was laughing, and I was under his spell. But I didn’t care. I needed this spell to get me through what I was supposed to do.

“I believe my chef has prepared something for us. Shall we?”

“Okay.”

He took my hand and led me out of the greenhouse.

We were holding hands. Josh and I holding hands would freak out America. We were enemies, on the opposing sides of the battle lines. My father would kill me if he ever saw me with Josh. He didn’t even know I was within the enemy’s castle, flirting with the monster inside.

But the monster’s hand felt strong and yet gentle in mine. We were walking in between rows of beautiful flowers he personally took care of, monster that he was, and the sky above was cloudless and blue.

Perfect. As perfect as this moment.

“Welcome to Camelot, princess.”

I sat opposite Josh at the candle-lit table while his butler served us dinner on the deck of his villa overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Meadow Lane residents had the most coveted beach strip in the Hamptons. This was the billionaires row.

My family owned a smaller place on the east side, but given our present situation, that property would likely be on the market soon, if the government would even allow us to liquidate it.

The setting sun had turned the waters into a kaleidoscope of blinking colors. The view was quite breathtaking.

“Funny how we both own houses in the Hamptons and we never once saw each other at a polo match or at a party at the Kleins’,” I commented offhandedly as we ate.

I was referring to the fashion heavyweight couple who frequently threw parties for their stylish billionaire friends in the neighborhood.

“I seldom attend parties.”

“And whose parties did you attend, seldom though they were?”

“I saw your father a few times at the Kochs’.”

“The Kochs throw the most boring parties, come on! All they talk about are the markets and the guests are mostly old folks.”

He smiled and shrugged. I let out a small giggle. “Sorry. Generation gap?”

“Are you calling me old?”

Ops! “No! Just…” I was embarrassed, but he seemed genuinely amused by my blunder.

“So, I heard you get paid to attend parties. How does that work?”

“Oh, that.” Why did that gig suddenly feel shallow in the presence of this very accomplished man? I didn’t want him to think I was some wild, empty-headed party girl.

“Well?” he prodded. “I’d like to know how to make money by simply being popular.”

“I’m sure you’ll make money if you demand to get paid to attend parties. You’re quite popular, too, as one of the most eligible bachelors in the country,” I teased him.

He grunted. “On the contrary, they usually make me pay for my plate when I attend galas.”

I gave him a phony look of sympathy. “Aww, poor puppy. It must suck when people only see you as a walking checkbook.”

“Don’t rub it in. So, tell me how it works.”

“It actually started as a joke. One of my friends wanted me to attend a birthday bash of this Arab prince and I didn’t want to go. I told her that I would only go if I got paid 50 grand. It was a joke of course so she’d leave me alone. I was already in bed at that time. My friend called back and said the prince would pay me. So I went. I earned 50 grand that night for my father’s charity foundation. Word got out that I would attend parties for a price. I’ve been doing it for the foundation. It saved my mother a lot of stress from throwing benefit parties.”

“Are you sure you didn’t grant the prince any other favors?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No.”

“Wow, that’s something. I’ve always made my money out of serious hard work. You, on the other hand, only has to smile and make small talk.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? Charm can take you places. Try it for a change.”

“You think I’m not charming?”

“Oh, I think you are. You have this give-me-what-I-want-or-I’ll-wreck-you-and-your-entire-family aura about you. It made you billions, so…”

He shook his head, grinning. “You’re insulting me again, Cressy.”

I liked it when he called me Cressy, and when he smiled like that. “I’m not. I swear.” I gave him an innocent look.

He poured more wine on my glass.

‘Thanks.”

I found myself relaxing for real. We talked about neutral stuff and I was surprised how easy it was to talk to him.

I was actually having a nice conversation with the enemy.

“So, you have a boyfriend, Cressy?”

He looked serious now as he asked me the question. I knew, the nice conversation just ended.

The Conqueror was back.

“No, I don’t.”

“That’s not what the internet says.”

“You’ve been googling about me, too.”

He shrugged. “I just wanted to see your dating history.”

Oh. “Okay… so what did you find?”

“You’ve dated two Greek billionaires’ sons, one famous actor, a rock musician and a hockey player. You’re currently dating a senator’s son.”

“Wow. Google knows an awful lot. Stuff I wasn’t even aware of.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“How did you manage to hold on to your cherry with those guys, I wonder?”

He dropped the bomb just when I was starting to warm up to him. “They were not my boyfriends, just acquaintances.”

His brows rose. “Yeah?”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I don’t know you well enough to take your word for it. But whether it’s true or not, doesn’t matter. I mean…” he shrugged. “Why would it matter?”

“I see,” I said quietly. Why would I care if he believed me or not? But there was no mistaking the pinpricks in my chest.

Our eyes clashed across the table. Yes, what did I care? I didn’t give a shit what he thought of me. He agreed to see me again and that was all that mattered. I would still carry on with my plan.

I took a sip from my wine glass to calm myself.

“Are you protected?”

His sudden question threw me off. “Huh?”

“We don’t want any unnecessary by-product of this little party, right?”

Oh God, this conversation was turning south fast. “Yes, of course. I started taking the pill weeks ago.”

“Good. I like women who know how to take care of themselves.”

I didn’t know if it was a compliment or an insult.

“One thing more. What happens in Camelot stays in Camelot.”

“You don’t actually think I’d be proud of this and brandish it all over media?” I sneered.

“Just so we’re clean on this.”

“You have a non-disclosure agreement I should sign?” I mocked him.

“You can be trusted. Right?” he dished back.

I concentrated on my food, head bowed, but my insides were churning in mounting frustration and anger.

He didn’t say anything more for a minute or two.

I couldn’t stand the silence. I snapped my head up, looking at him in defiance.

His eyes were inscrutable again, devoid of the light I was basking in just minutes ago.

“Yes?”

“Are you very experienced in sex that you will be able to tell a virgin from a…non-virgin?”

He paused from drinking his wine, looking a bit surprised. “Why do you ask?”

“Because it is important to me that you can tell that I’m not lying to you.”

“I’m not fond of virgins.”

“It’s obvious. But have you had one, at least?”

“None that I can recall. No.”

“Then you’re no expert in virgins.”

“And your point being?”

“I’m a virgin, but whether you believe me or not doesn’t depend on me, it depends on your experience, or lack thereof.”

He leaned back in his seat. “Interesting perspective. So, tell me, Cressy. How does a virgin feel like?”

I swallowed. Gosh, what a question! “I don’t know…”

“I imagine a virgin pussy would be tighter than the usual.”

Oh God, did men actually talk to women like this? He was discussing my virginity like it was the weather while I was ready to sink into the floor in embarrassment.

“Are you tight, princess?”

I shouldn’t have pursued the subject. I was scandalized to the roots of my hair. “I d-don’t know…I haven’t…haven’t…” I was stuttering and I hated it.

I knew what he was doing. He was trying to scare me off, intimidate me by his sexual experience. I’d touched his ego and now he was toying with me.

“Surely, you’ve touched yourself for pleasure?”

I couldn’t seem to stand this. It was just too intimate. But then again, I was going to be intimate with him. We were going to have sex after dinner.

Maybe we were already having sex. Maybe this was already foreplay.

This is so hot.

I wanted to slap myself for being such a slut, for anticipating what was about to happen. I wanted to remind myself that this was a sacrifice I was doing for my family, but my body was betraying me. It was responding to him like it had never responded to any other man before, and I was powerless to stop it.

“You haven’t explored yourself? Put you fingers in your—“

“No!” I hissed at him, my face on fire.

“Have you not experienced orgasm yet?”

“Do I need to answer you twenty sex questions?”

“Yeah. I’m interested in your sexual history, Cressy.”

His eyes were dancing with an unholy light. He was really enjoying this, watching me squirm like a prude. “I have experienced orgasm, of course. But just by…” I couldn’t continue.

“Rubbing your clit. Fingers out.”

His questions were uncovering my intimate secrets, details I’d never shared with anybody. It was unnerving, but at the same time, my body was alive, excited. “Yes.”

“So, if I put my fingers inside you, you’d be very tight.”

I rubbed my legs together under the table. God, I hated him. He looked so superior sitting there like a king, so imperious. So indifferent. One day soon, I’d have him kneeling before me and kissing my feet, begging me, I swore.

The thought was so vivid in my mind.

“There’s only one way to find out, right?” I found myself saying, going into the battle head on.

A devilish smile split his sexy lips. “Right.”