is a California native who loves to travel. Every chance they get, she and her husband are taking off on another research trip. The author of more than sixty books, Maureen loves a happy ending and still swears that she has the best job in the world. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two children and a golden retriever with delusions of grandeur. Visit Maureen’s website at www.maureenchild.com.

Last Virgin in California
Maureen Child

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Last Virgin in California

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Marine Under the Mistletoe

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Last Virgin in California

Chapter One

“You’re marrying who?”

Lilah Forrest winced and held the phone receiver away from her ear so that her father’s voice wouldn’t deafen her. Honestly. A lifetime in the Marine Corps had given Jack Forrest such range, he could probably wake the dead if ordered to.

“Ray, Daddy,” she said, when she pulled the phone close again. “You remember him. You met him the last time you came to visit?”

“Of course I remember him,” her father sputtered. “He’s the little guy who told me my uniform would look less intimidating if I wore an earring.”

Lilah smothered a chuckle she knew darn well her dad wouldn’t appreciate. But really, just the thought of her oh-so-proper, career Marine father wearing a tidy gold hoop in his ear was enough to cultivate bubbles of laughter that weren’t at all easy to subdue.

“He was kidding,” she said when she could speak without a smile in her voice.

“Right.” He didn’t sound convinced.

“I thought you liked Ray.”

“I didn’t say I don’t like him,” he said tightly. “But what do you see in those artsy-fartsy types, anyway?”

Artsy-fartsy, Lilah thought. Translation: Any man who wasn’t a Marine.

“What you need,” her father was saying, “is a man as stubborn as you are. A strong, dependable type. Like—”

“A Marine,” she finished for him. For heaven’s sake, she’d heard this speech so often, she could give it for him.

“What’s wrong with a Marine?” he demanded, clearly defensive.

“Nothing,” she said, wishing they weren’t having this conversation…again.

Lilah sighed and plopped down onto her overstuffed couch. Curling up into a corner of the sofa, she cradled the receiver between her ear and her shoulder and tugged the hem of her dress down over her updrawn legs. “Daddy, Ray’s a nice guy.”

“I’ll take your word for it, honey,” he said grudgingly. “But do you really think he’s the right guy for you?”

No, she didn’t. Ray’s image rose up in her mind and Lilah smiled to herself. Short, with nearly waist-length black hair he kept in a thick braid, Ray was an artist. He wore diamonds in his ears, favored tunic shirts and leather sandals and was absolutely devoted to his life partner, Victor.

But, he was also one of Lilah’s closest friends. Which was the only reason he’d agreed to let her tell her father that they were engaged. Victor wasn’t the least bit happy about it, but Ray had been an absolute doll.

And seriously, if she hadn’t been about to go spend a few weeks with her father, this never would have happened. But she simply couldn’t stand the idea of having another parade of single officers thrown at her feet. She didn’t much like the idea of lying to her dad, but really it was his own fault. If he’d quit trying to get her married to some “suitable” Marine, she wouldn’t have to resort to such lengths, would she?

“Ray’s wonderful, Daddy,” she said, meaning every word. “You’ll like him if you give yourself a chance.”

He grumbled something she didn’t quite catch and a twinge of guilt tugged at her heart. Jack Forrest wasn’t a bad man. He just never had been able to understand his daughter.

As her father changed the subject and started talking about what was happening on the base, she listened with half an ear as her gaze drifted around the living room of her tiny, San Francisco apartment. Crimson-red walls surrounded her, giving the small room warmth. Sunlight streamed through the unadorned windows, painting the old fashioned, deeply cushioned furniture with a soft golden glow that shimmered on the polished, hardwood floors. Celtic music drifted to her from the CD player on the far wall and the scent of burning patchouli candles filled the air with a fragrance that relaxed her even as her fingers tightened around the phone in her hand.

She hated lying to her father. After all, lying wasn’t good for the soul. Besides, she had a feeling it caused wrinkles, too. But as soon as her visit with him was over, she’d call and tell her dad that she and Ray had broken up. Then everything would be fine.

Until their next visit.

But she’d burn that bridge when she came to it.

“I’ll have someone pick you up at the airport,” he said and Lilah’s attention snapped back to him.

“No, that’s okay,” she said quickly, imagining some poor Private or Corporal delegated to driving the Colonel’s daughter around. “I’ve already arranged for a car. I’ll be there sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“You’re uh…not bringing Ray along, are you?”

She almost laughed again at the discomfort in his voice. Oh yeah. She could just see Ray on base. What a hoot that would be.

“No, Daddy,” she said solemnly, “it’s just me.”

There was a long pause before he said, “All right then. You be careful.”

“I will.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you, honey.”

“Me, too,” she said wistfully, then added, “’Bye, Dad,” and hung up. Hand still resting on the receiver, she stared at it for a long minute and wished that things were different. Wished for the zillionth time that her father could just accept her—and love her—for who and what she was.

But that would probably never happen. Since she was the daughter of a man who’d always wanted a son.

“I’d consider it a personal favor, Gunnery Sergeant,” Colonel Michael Forrest said, planting his elbows on his desk and steepling his fingertips together.

Escorting the Colonel’s daughter around base a personal favor? Well, how was a man supposed to get out of something like that? Kevin Rogan wondered frantically. Sure, he could turn the man down. He wasn’t making this an order—hell, Kevin wasn’t sure he could. But then again, he didn’t have to. Making it a “favor” practically guaranteed Kevin’s acceptance.

After all, how was he supposed to turn down a request from a superior officer?

He bit down hard on the words he wanted to say and said instead, “I’d be happy to help, sir.”

Colonel Forrest gave him a look that clearly said he was under no misconception here. He knew damn well Kevin didn’t want to do this, but would, anyway. And apparently, that was all that mattered.

“Excellent,” the Colonel said, pushing up from his desk to step around the edge of it. He walked across the floor of his office and looked out the window onto the wide stretch of the base two stories below.

Kevin didn’t have to look to know what the other man was seeing. The everyday hustle and bustle of a recruit depot. Troops marching. Marines. Squads. Drill Instructors shouting, calling cadence, trying to whip a bunch of kids into something resembling hard-nosed Marines.

May sunshine blasted against the window, splintering like a prism as it poured into the room. A wisp of ocean air swept beneath the partially opened window and carried the faint sounds of marching men and women. The distant rumble of a jet taking off from the San Diego airport sounded like the far-off stirrings of thunder.

“I don’t want you to misunderstand, Rogan,” the Colonel said. “My daughter is a…remarkable person.”

“I’m sure she is, sir,” Kevin answered politically, though inside, he wondered just how remarkable a woman could be if her own father had to practically force a man to keep her company for the month she’d be in town. He slanted a glance at the other man’s desk but found no framed pictures on the cluttered surface. No help there. Already, he wondered just what he’d gotten himself into. Was she nuts? Obnoxious? A one-eyed troll?

But even as those thoughts went through his mind, he reminded himself that he knew exactly what she was. The Colonel’s daughter. And because of that, Kevin would do everything he could to see to it that she had a good time while she was here.

Even if it killed him.

Dammit. A Gunnery Sergeant in the Marine Corps, reduced to being a glorified baby-sitter.

Lilah sat in her rental car just outside the gates and told herself she was being foolish. But it was always like this. One look at what she thought of as her father’s stronghold and her stomach started the ugly, slow, pitch and roll that felt far too familiar.

She slapped her hands against the steering wheel then gripped it tight. Her stomach did the weird little flip-flop that she always associated with seeing her dad for the first time in too long. But then, she should be used to it, right?

“Wrong,” she murmured and let her hands fall to her lap. Unconsciously, she plucked at the soft folds of her emerald-green muslin skirt, then lifted one hand to toy with the amethyst crystal hanging from a chain around her neck.

As she fingered the cold, hard edges of the beveled stone, she told herself she was being silly. “This visit will be different. He thinks you’re engaged. No more ‘suitable’ men. No more lectures on finding ‘stability’ in your life.”

Right.

Like any Forrest would give up that easily.

After all, she hadn’t quit yet. All her life, she’d been trying to please her father. And all her life, she’d failed miserably. You’d think she’d surrender to the inevitable. But no. Lilah Forrest was too stubborn to give up just because she wasn’t winning.

And she’d inherited that hardheaded streak from the man waiting for her just beyond the gates.

A flicker of movement caught her eye and she saw one of the Marine guards move out to give her a hard stare. “Probably thinks you’re a terrorist or something,” she muttered and quickly put the car into gear and slowly approached the gate.

“Ma’am,” he said, though he looked younger than Lilah. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Lilah Forrest,” she said, and lifted her sunglasses long enough to smile up into hard, suspicious eyes. “I’m here to see my father.”

He blinked. Too well trained to show complete shock, the Marine just stared at her for a long minute before saying, “Yes, ma’am, we’ve been expecting you.” He took a look at her license plate number, jotted it down on a visitor sticker and slapped it onto the windshield of her car. Then he lifted one hand and pointed. “Go right on through there and watch—”

“My speed,” she finished for him. “I know.” She should know the rules well enough. She’d been raised on military bases around the world. And the one thing they all shared was a low threshold of appreciation for speeding drivers. Creep up above the twenty mile an hour limit and you’d get a ticket. Private or General.

He nodded. “The Colonel’s house is…”

“I know where it is, thanks,” she said, and stepped on the gas. Waving one ring-bedecked hand at the young Marine she left in her dust, she aimed her rental car and headed off to do battle.

She wasn’t at all what he’d expected.

And definitely not a one-eyed troll.

Kevin shifted on the dining room chair and covertly eyed the woman sitting opposite him. If he’d had to pick the Colonel’s daughter out of a group of assembled women, he never would have picked this one.

First off, she was short. Not munchkin short, but a good six inches shorter than both he and the Colonel. Kevin had never gone much for short women. Always made him feel like a damn giant. But even he had to admit that Lilah was round in all the right places and her compact body was enough to make a dead man sit up and take notice.

Her long, blond hair hung halfway down her back in a tumble of wild curls that made a man want to reach out and tangle his fingers in it. She had a stubborn chin, a full mouth that smiled often, a small nose and the biggest, bluest eyes Kevin had ever seen.

She also wore silver stars on her ears and ropes of crystals around her neck. She was wearing some soft-looking dress that seemed to float like a cloud of emerald green around her legs when she moved and her bare feet displayed two silver rings on her toes.

Who would have guessed that the Colonel’s daughter was a latter-day hippie?

He half expected her to fold her legs into the lotus position and start chanting.

So now he knew why the Colonel wanted his daughter escorted all over creation. He probably didn’t trust her to come in out of the rain on her own.

“My father tells me you’re a Drill Instructor,” she said and Kevin’s attention snapped up from the purple crystal lying just above the line of her breasts.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and told himself to pay no attention to the small spurt of interest that shot through him. It was nothing special, he thought. Just the normal reaction of a healthy male to a pretty woman. And she was pretty. In an earth mother, hug-a-tree sort of way.

She waved one hand and he swore he heard bells ring. Then he noticed the tiny silver chimes attached to the bracelet around her wrist.

Figured.

“I thought you agreed to call me Lilah?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“Isn’t this nice?” the Colonel asked, looking from one to the other of them like a proud papa. “I knew you two would hit it off.”

Then the phone rang and the Colonel pushed away from the table and stood up. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said. “I have to get that.”

He left the room and silence dropped like a stone in a well. Kevin leaned back in his chair, let his gaze wander the elegantly appointed dining room and wished himself anywhere but there.

“Did he order you to be here?”

Guilt charged through him. Kevin shot her a quick look, darted a glance at the empty doorway, then turned back to her. “Of course not,” he said, then asked, “what makes you say that?”

Lilah picked up her fork and used the tines to push a stray brussel sprout across her plate. Leaning an elbow on the table, she cupped her chin in her free hand and stared him right in the eye. “It wouldn’t be the first time Dad’s assigned some poor Marine to ‘daughter duty.’”

He shifted in his chair again, but kept his gaze fixed with hers. Hell, he didn’t want to embarrass her, but if she was used to this kind of treatment from her father, then who was he to deny it? “All right, I admit, he did ask me to escort you around base while you’re here.”

“I knew it.” She dropped the fork with a clatter and leaned back in her chair. Crossing her arms beneath her admirable breasts, she huffed out a breath and shook her head hard enough to send that fall of blond curls swinging. “I thought this time would be different.”

“From what?”

“From the usual.”

Just how many Marines had been “requested” to take charge of her over the years, anyway? Curious now, in spite of himself, he asked, “What exactly is the usual?”

She shot a quick glance at the empty doorway through which her father had disappeared, then looked back at him. “Oh, he’s been throwing you guys in my path ever since I hit puberty.”

“Us guys?”

“Marines,” she said, giving him a look that clearly said she didn’t think he’d been paying attention. “Dad’s been trying to marry me off to a Marine for—well, forever.”

“Marry?” Kevin repeated, then lowered his voice as he leaned over his now empty plate. “Who said anything about marriage?” He hadn’t signed up for that. He didn’t mind showing her around and in general looking out for her interests while she was in town. But as to marriage…well, he’d been there and done that. And no thank you very much. He’d pass.

“Geez, Sergeant,” Lilah said, her big eyes going even wider. “Relax, will you? Nobody’s sneaking you off to Vegas.”

“I didn’t—”

“Your virtue’s safe with me,” she assured him.

“I’m not worried about my ‘virtue.’”

“I just said you shouldn’t be.”

“I’m not—” He stopped, inhaled and blew out the air in a rush of frustration. “Are we arguing in circles?”

“Probably.”

“Then how about we call a truce?”

“It’s all right with me,” she said, jumping out of her chair to pace the room. Her bare feet made almost no sound at all on the polished wood floor, but her bracelet jingled enough to keep time as she stalked. “But you might as well realize now, that my father won’t quit trying. He’s obviously chosen you.”

“As what?” he asked, even though he had a terrible idea of just what she was about to say.

“As a son-in-law,” she said, making a sharp about-face to pace in the opposite direction.

“No way,” he said, standing up, not really sure whether to fight or run.

“Yes, way,” she said, shooting him a look over her shoulder. “And apparently, the fact that I have a fiancé hasn’t changed Daddy’s plans any.”

“You’re engaged?”

“Daddy doesn’t like him.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to him,” she pointed out all too reasonably. “He likes you, though.” The blonde who would soon be starring in his nightmares gave him a brilliant smile. “And in the Colonel Forrest rules of the Universe, who he likes is all that matters.”

“Lucky me,” Kevin said and wondered if it was too late to volunteer for overseas duty.

Chapter Two

Lilah watched her father’s latest attempt at finding himself a suitable son-in-law and couldn’t help at least admiring her dad’s taste.

Kevin Rogan was tall, broad shouldered and his uniform fit him as if designed with him in mind specifically. He looked like a recruiting poster. Perfect. Too perfect, she thought, glancing from his dark brown hair to his strong, square jaw, lips that were now just a grim slash across his face and narrowed green eyes.

She had to give her father points. At least this one was way better looking than the last few he’d thrown her way. But, she reminded herself, handsome or not, he was still a Marine. And therefore out of the running, as far as she was concerned.

Of course, there was no one in the running, but that was a different story.

His hands fisted at his sides and she had the distinct feeling that what he wanted to do was bolt from the house and disappear into the fog—or maybe punch a wall. She couldn’t really blame him. After all, he was new to the Colonel’s husband hunt.

This was old hat for her.

“Really,” she said, shaking her head. “You ought to try to relax. All of that tension can’t be good for the spirit. Or the digestion.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, shoving both fists into his pockets, “but I like tension. Keeps me on my toes.”

Well then he should be happy to be around her. Because Lilah had the unenviable talent of making most everyone tense. It was her special gift.

Ever since she was a kid, she’d managed to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Still, no point in making him any more miserable than he already was. “Don’t take this so personal,” Lilah told him and was rewarded with a steely glare.

“I shouldn’t take it personal?” he asked, incredulous. “Your father, my C.O., sets me up and I shouldn’t take it personal?”

She waved her hand just to hear the sound of the silvery bells on her bracelet again. Very soothing. “It’s not like you’re the first,” she said. “Or the last for that matter. Daddy’s been lining men up in front of me since I was seventeen.” Just saying it made her want to cringe, but she curbed the impulse. “You’re just the latest.”

“Some consolation.”

“It should be,” she argued.

“And why’s that?”

“Well,” she pointed out, “it’s not as though he isn’t picky when he’s looking for a man for me. He only chooses from the best. I am his daughter, after all.” Not the son he’d always wanted. Just a daughter with a penchant for crystals and toe rings rather than rule books and sensible shoes.

“So I ought to be flattered?”

“Sort of.”

“I’m not.”

“I’m getting that.” She leaned in and studied his fierce expression. “You know, your mirth chakra probably needs work.”

“My what?”

“Never mind.”

“I don’t get you.”

“Join the club.”

“Are you always this strange?”

“That depends,” she said. “How strange am I being right now?”

“Oh, man.”

“Sorry about the interruption,” the Colonel announced as he walked back into the room. Both of them turned to face him, almost in relief. They certainly weren’t getting anywhere talking to each other.

He stopped just over the threshold and looked from one to the other of them. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes,” she said.

“No, sir,” he said at the same time.

Lilah turned and fixed the man opposite her with a hard look. The furious expression was gone, replaced now by the professional soldier’s blank, poker face. To see the man now, you’d never guess that only moments before he had looked angry enough to bite through a phone book. A thick one.

“Now’s your chance, Gunnery Sergeant,” she said, urging him to speak up and get them both out of this while there was still time. “Tell my father what you were just telling me.”

“Yes, Gunnery Sergeant,” the Colonel said, “what exactly were you saying?”

His gaze shot from her to her father and for one brief, shining moment, Lilah almost hoped that Kevin Rogan would stand up and say “no thanks.” Then he spoke and that hope died.

“I told your daughter it would be an honor to escort her around the base for the duration of her visit, sir.”

She sighed heavily, but neither man appeared to notice.

“Excellent,” the Colonel said, smiling. Then he walked across the room, gave her a kiss on the forehead and turned to face the other man. “I have some work to catch up on,” he said. “Lilah will see you out and you two can make some plans.”

When he left again, Lilah folded her arms across her chest, tapped one bare foot against the floor and cocked her head to one side. “Coward.”

He actually winced before he shrugged. “He’s my C.O.,” was his only explanation.

“But you don’t want this duty.”

“Nope.”

“So why—”

“I didn’t want to go to Bosnia, either,” he said tightly. “But I went.”

Well that stung.

Still and all, it was almost refreshing to talk honestly with one of her father’s hopefuls. Usually, the men he handpicked for her were so busy trying to win his approval that they were willing to tell Lilah outrageous lies just to score a brownie point or two. At least Kevin Rogan was honest.

He didn’t want to be with her any more than she wanted to be with him.

That was almost like having something in common, wasn’t it?

“So,” she asked, “I’m like Bosnia, huh? In what sense? A relief mission or a battle zone?”

A flicker of a smile curved his mouth and was gone again before she could thoroughly appreciate just what the action did for his face.

And maybe, she thought as butterflies took wing in the pit of her stomach, that was for the best. She was only in town for a few weeks. Besides, she already knew that she did not fit in with the military types.

“Haven’t made up my mind yet,” he said. “But I’ll let you know.”

“I can’t wait.” Sarcasm dripped from her tone, letting him know in no uncertain terms that she knew exactly what his decision would be. She could see it in his eyes. He’d already come to the conclusion that this duty was going to be a pain in the rear.

And a few days alone with her would only underline that certainty.

“Look,” he said, crossing the room toward her so he could lower his voice and not be overheard. He stopped just short of her and Lilah caught a whiff of his cologne. Something earthy and musky and what it did to her insides, she refused to think about.

She blinked and tried to focus on the words coming out of his mouth, rather than the mouth itself.

“We’re going to be stuck with each other for the next month,” he said.

Okay, that helped. How charming. “And your point is?”

“Let’s try to make this as easy as possible on both of us.”

“I’m for that,” she said and inhaled deeply again, enjoying the woodsy fragrance that filled her senses and weakened her knees. She looked up into those green eyes of his and now that they weren’t scowling at her, she noticed the tiny flecks of gold in them.

Then promptly told herself she shouldn’t be noticing anything of the kind. Marine, she reminded herself. Handpicked by her father.

“You’re engaged,” he said, “whether your father likes the guy or not.”

An image of Ray filled her mind and she had to smile. “True,” she agreed and mentally crossed her fingers at the lie in a feeble attempt to ward off karmic backlash.

“And I’m not interested in changing that situation.”

“Good.” One fake fiancé was about all she could handle at any given time.

“So,” he was saying, “we strike a bargain.”

She stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out just what he was up to. “What kind of bargain?”

He folded his muscular arms across a chest that looked broad enough to be a football field. “We play the roles the Colonel wants and at the end of the month, we say goodbye.”

Hmm.

“Sounds reasonable.”

“I’m always reasonable,” he said and darned if she didn’t believe him.

He looked so straight-arrow, gung ho Marine, he wouldn’t know a bend in the road if he fell on it. Completely the wrong kind of man for her. Exactly the kind of man she’d avoided most of her life.

In short, he was perfect.

They could get through this month and make her father happy and neither of them miserable. She smiled again as she considered it. For the first time, she and a Marine could be honest with each other. They could form a friendship based on mutual distaste.

This idea actually had merit.

“Well?” he prodded, apparently just as impatient as her father. “What do you say?”

“I say you’ve got a deal, Gunnery Sergeant,” Lilah told him and held out her right hand.

He enveloped it in his much bigger one and gave her a gentle squeeze and shake. Ripples of warmth ebbed through her, much like the surface of a lake after a stone’s been tossed into it. She blinked and held on to his hand a moment longer than was necessary, just to enjoy the sensation. Tipping her head back, she thought she noticed a like reaction glinting in his eyes, but she couldn’t be sure.

When he released her, she still felt the hum of his touch. And she was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing at all.

Twenty minutes later, Kevin was gone and Lilah was sitting in the living room alone when her father walked into the room.

He moved straight for the bar and poured himself a short drink, then asked, “Would you like something, honey?”

“No, thanks,” Lilah said as she studied her father. A tall, handsome man, he had streaks of gray at his temples, smile lines at the corners of his eyes and the solid, muscled frame of a much younger man. Not for the first time, she wondered why he’d never remarried after her mother’s death so many years ago. But she’d never asked him. And now seemed like as good a time as any. “Dad, why have you stayed single all these years?”

He set the decanter down carefully, studied the amber liquid swirling in the bottom of his glass, then turned and walked to the couch. Sitting opposite her, he took a sip, then said, “I never met another woman like your mom.”

Her mother had died when she was eight years old, but Lilah still had a few memories. Snatches of images, really. A pretty woman with a lovely smile. A soft touch. A whiff of perfume. She remembered the comforting sound of her parents laughing together in the darkness and the warmth of knowing she was loved.

And then there were the lonelier years, when it was just she and her father and he was too busy to notice that his daughter had lost as much as he had.

She shifted, curling up in a corner of the overstuffed love seat. “Did you try?”

Again, he looked for answers in his glass before saying, “Not really.” Another sip. “I just decided I’d rather be alone than be with the wrong person.”

“I can understand that,” she said, meaning every word. In fact, she thought that if they’d had this conversation a few years ago, she might have been able to avoid the series of matchmaking attempts he’d been foisting on her regularly. “But what I don’t understand is,” she added softly, “if it’s all right for you to be single, why is it so important to you that I get married?”

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