Trouble With Harry

by Myla Jackson

  “Edie? Harry?” Mitch’s voice called out from the other side of the bedroom door.

  Before Harry could react, the door flung open and Mitch raced in.

  “Edie! Thank God! We were so worried and then Harry disappear—” Mitch’s words and feet ground to a halt and his jaw dropped. “What the hell?”

  “Mitch, I can explain—” Edie started.

  But Mitch’s eyes narrowed and his lips firmed into a hard line. He marched up to Harry, grabbed him by the arm and yanked him off Edie. “You dirty son of a bitch!”

  Harry, struggling to get his feet beneath him, didn’t see the fist until it connected with his jaw. Pain shot through his head and he staggered back falling across the bed and Edie.

  “Mitch!” Edie screamed and lunged over Harry, her naked body covering his. “Are you insane?”

  “He had no right to take advantage of you.” Mitch shook his hand and rubbed the top of his knuckles. “No right. Yee-ouch!”

  Harry peered beneath Edie’s breasts dangling over his face. Despite the ache radiating throughout his face and head, he couldn’t help staring at the pearly white orbs sprinkled with delicate freckles and tipped with rosy brown nipples.

  “Good grief, Harry. Can’t you turn it off? The woman’s had enough.” Mitch leaned closer. “Edie, you’re bleeding. For chrissakes, let me at him.” Mitch reached down to pull Edie off Harry.

  Edie stood on her knees pressing her hands against Mitch’s chest. “It’s okay, Mitch. Harry didn’t hurt me.” She glanced back at Harry. Her blush spread from her cheeks down to her milky breasts. “Really, he didn’t hurt me.”

  “Then what the hell happened and why was he fucking you?” Mitch crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze running the length of Edie and lingering on the blood staining her inner thigh.

  Guilt warred with anger filling Harry’s chest. He shouldn’t have forced himself on Edie, but the other man had no right to stare at her like that.

  “Mitch, let us get some clothes on and we can talk,” Edie said.

  Harry sat up. “Yeah, we need to talk.” He didn’t want to talk, he wanted to punch Mitch, and then throw Edie back on the bed and make love to her some more. Her smooth body loomed next to him smelling of sex and wild flowers.

  “Shut up, you bastard.” Mitch shrugged Edie’s hands off and brought his fists up again. “And don’t ever touch her again. She deserves better.”

  “And you think you’re better?” Harry pushed to his feet, at a distinct disadvantage with all his body parts exposed, but prepared to take on Mitch.

  “Yeah, I do.” Mitch’s chest swelled out and he stepped closer.

  “Enough.” Edie shoved in between them with a hand on each man’s chest. “Both of you get out of my bedroom.”

  Harry hesitated, not ready to back down.

  Mitch held his ground.

  Then the telephone rang, that odd chirping noise Edie had assured him was one of the ways they sounded in the twenty-first century.

  “Fine. You can kill yourselves for all I care.” She yanked the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her as she dove for the phone on the third ring. “Hello? Mr. Baumgartner? No, you’re not calling too late. No, I wasn’t doing anything important.” She shot a frown at the two men.

  Harry focused his attention on Edie and her conversation. Why was her boss calling her at home? Instinct told him her boss’s call was for more than curiosity.

  “No sir, I told you what I knew back at the museum. No sir, I didn’t stay much longer. I’ll start work on it as soon as I get to the museum in the morning.” Edie grimaced. “Early? How early? Yes sir. I’ll be in at seven-thirty sharp. Yes, sir. Good night, sir.”

  Edie punched a button on the phone and set it on her nightstand. “How odd.”

  “What did he want?” The confused look on Edie’s face made Harry’s skin crawl.

  “He asked me again if I found anything in the sarcophagus.” Edie’s gaze connected with Harry’s. “He never calls me at home. And his voice was jerky, like he was nervous.”

  “Why would your boss be nervous?” Mitch asked.

  “I don’t know.” Edie answered. “He had some woman call today about the find, but he didn’t seem nervous then.”

  “Why don’t you get your clothes on? I’ll do the same.” Harry didn’t like the feel of this. He strode to her bedroom door and waited for Mitch to follow before he stepped into the living room and grabbed the clothes stacked on the couch.

  Edie closed her bedroom door. “Something has to be making him nervous,” she called through the wooden panels.

  “Yeah, but what?” Harry wondered out loud. He slid his legs into a pair of blue denim jeans and pulled a stretchy shirt over his head.

  “Hey, I’m gonna jump in the shower,” she said. “See if you can find something to eat in the fridge.”

  “Fridge?” Harry looked across at the other man.

  “Man, you are pathetic,” Mitch grumbled, and jerked his head to the side. “Come on, let me acquaint you with the art of twenty-first century cooking.”

  Despite the mystery surrounding Mr. Baumgartner’s call, Harry’s stomach rumbled. “I guess I am a bit hungry. You sure you aren’t going to poison me?”

  “Much as the idea appeals to me, Edie would kill me if I poisoned you. When was the last time you ate?”

  With a snort, Harry followed Mitch into the kitchen. “Over eighty years ago.”

  “Dude, you must be hungry.”

  “Yeah a little.” He patted his flat stomach. “All that activity.”

  Mitch turned around. “You want me to punch you again?”

  “Try it.” Harry cocked an eyebrow, beginning to enjoy how easily Mitch rose to his bait. “I’ll be ready this time.”

  * * * * *

  Edie stood beneath the spray, letting the hot water soak into her sore muscles. Making love was a workout. Familiar with the treadmill and exercise bicycle, she hadn’t realized sex worked an entirely different muscle grouping. She rubbed soap into her pubic hair and downward. Her labia and the entrance to her vagina were swollen and tender, a throbbing ache to remind her what she’d done.

  Regret should have set in by now. But Edie couldn’t regret Harry. He’d done her a great service saving her from a fate worse than death. Terminal virginity. She giggled out loud at her own silly musings. The sound echoed against the shower walls. She hadn’t laughed much and giggling wasn’t something an educated woman normally did. But it made her feel so good. Her mother had filled the house with laughter before she was murdered.

  Thank God for the miracle that brought Harry to her. She would have gone all her life without ever knowing the wonder of mind-blowing copulation. And if he disappeared tomorrow as easily as he had appeared?

  Edie’s hand stilled over that special place. The spot he’d teased with his tongue—her own little point of pleasure. Could she replace that world-altering sensation by masturbating? Silently, she shook her head. Masturbation was no replacement for Harry.

  But Edie had to get a grip. Would Harry have made love to her without the wish? No. Harry wasn’t interested in her. The gorgeous hunk got wished into laying the poor ugly virgin because she couldn’t get a man on her own. Good God, he must think her dismal.

  Unexpected bile rose in Edie’s throat. Did he pity her? Edie rinsed the soap away from her crotch, scrubbing and scrubbing until no trace of Harry or her lost virginity were detectable.

  How could she face him? How could any woman face the man who’d “serviced” her because of a wish? He wouldn’t have done it without the magic. He’d even said she was beautiful. But wasn’t that also part of the wish?

  Edie knew her physical limitations. She stared at them everyday in the mirror. Her body was ordinary with slightly overlarge breasts and too-pale skin because of her cursed red hair. With her plethora of freckles, she’d never been beautiful like her mother had been, with her flawless olive tones and her jet-black hair. Roxanne Ragsdale had been the
beauty in the family. Edie had been some freak throwback to a distant red-haired grandparent. Damn genetics.

  Ducking her head beneath the shower, Edie stood with the water pummeling her face, washing away the tears she knew she could never shed in front of Harry or Mitch. She had to get tough. Face her humiliation with a smile, or at least with her shoulders back and her chin up. Okay, so a smile might be pushing it.

  With a flick of her wrist, Edie turned off the shower and dried her face and eyes with a clean towel. She’d help Harry find his friend. Then he’d leave and she could get back to life as usual.

  The thought didn’t settle her stomach and fresh tears pooled in her eyes. She blinked them away and pulled on her best defense. Drab clothing. Something truly boring to hide behind. Maybe Harry and Mitch wouldn’t see her heart breaking if they couldn’t see past the boring khaki and oxford cloth. She’d blend into the walls again like she had before Harry came into her life.

  Edie stepped into her room and stared down at the skirt and shirt she’d laid out. Yes, indeed. She was a drab sparrow next to Harry the swashbuckling, pirate-of-her-dreams peacock. She didn’t stand a chance. Even if she offered him sex for free, she couldn’t possibly interest him for more than a day. She didn’t know how to please a man. Harry was the only man she’d known.

  Doomed by looks. Doomed by experience. Two strikes against her. What was her third? No use borrowing trouble. She had enough trouble from that blasted green and blue bottle to generate a lifetime of sorrow.

  Fortified in her shield of ugly clothing, Edie stepped out of her bedroom to face her humiliation.

  The room was empty.

  Chapter Six

  “So, what happened?” Mitch jabbed his fork into the blob of meat he’d insisted was Salisbury steak from what he’d labeled a TV dinner.

  Harry wasn’t so sure the lump was a steak of any kind. He cut a chunk off his and chewed, giving himself a chance to phrase his answer. “You were right. Edie wished herself into a bad situation.”

  “And you being there made it better?” Mitch slammed his fork on the table and pushed his chair back.

  “What’s your interest in Edie, anyway?” Harry took another bite of the gravy-soaked steak, ignoring the other man’s posturing.

  “I’ve known Edie for two years, you’ve known her a total of what?” Mitch glared at Harry. “Half a day?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.” Was Mitch stalling with his answer? Did the man really have feelings for Edie?

  “She’s a nice girl…and naïve, and possibly gullible. I thought you’d gone out to save her, not rape her.” Mitch shoved away from the table and stood.

  Simmering anger flamed to rage—rage at Mitch’s accusations and his own lack of control with a virgin. Harry slowly set his fork down on the table and, without looking up said, “Take it back.”

  “She doesn’t know men.” Mitch planted his hands on his hips.

  “I didn’t rape her.” Harry lifted his head, his teeth clenched so tight enamel ground against enamel.

  “Last week she was crying to me that she was still a virgin.” Mitch said. “A moment ago you were all over her, what do you call it?”

  “Making love.” Harry held on to his calm, when he wanted to reach out and shove a fist in Mitch’s face. “Not that it’s any of your business. And in my time, men didn’t discuss a lady in such a manner.”

  “And you expect me to believe you fell in love with Edie at first sight?”

  “Is the idea so farfetched?” Harry asked without stopping to think about what his answer would be. Perhaps he was avoiding the question. “Or do you see Edie like she sees herself?”

  Mitch’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Someone has made her think of herself as ugly and undesirable. Was that you?”

  “No way.” Mitch shifted and stared off into a corner. “I told you, her father is constantly telling her she isn’t as pretty as her mother. In Edie’s mind, that translates to ugly.”

  “It baffles my mind.” Harry shook his head, a vision filling his thoughts of Edie’s pale skin against the red satin sheets, her burnished copper hair fanned out on the pillow.

  Mitch scrubbed a hand over his chin. “Got to admit, I haven’t seen her like she was tonight.” His eyes got that faraway look, as if he too was envisioning Edie naked.

  Harry didn’t like that look one bit. “This food is vile.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “We still have a problem.”

  “We do?” Mitch jerked his head side to side as if shaking off the effects of too much alcohol. “And the problem is?”

  “I’m subject to living in a bottle for the rest of my life and at any moment, Edie might inadvertently wish for something else she can’t quite handle.”

  “I think we need to get back over there to keep and eye on her.” Mitch strode to the door. “She should be done in the shower by now.”

  The thought of Edie naked under a shower’s spray stood Harry’s cock at attention. For a moment, he hesitated, unable to step forward until he adjusted the crotch of his borrowed trousers. How mortifying to be instantly hard simply by the mention of Edie. Well, and the shower.

  Mitch opened the door and held it wide glancing back at Harry. “Come on Casanova. Only this time, keep it in your pants.”

  Uncomfortable talking with another man about Edie or his own lack of control, Harry refrained from responding to Mitch’s warning. He wanted to get back to Edie. She was his anchor in this crazy world he’d fallen into. And as much as he hated the thought, she owned him, and she wasn’t any more pleased with the idea than he was.

  More frightening was what would happen next. He had no control over the granting of her wishes, but he knew he couldn’t deny her. Had she made any more wishes and he hadn’t felt them? Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to see Edie.

  Mitch reached her door first and raised his hand to knock.

  Before his knuckles contacted wood, the door swung open.

  She stood there in much the same clothing Harry had seen her in the first time they met. A far cry from the vixen in the film studio. The only difference now was that her hair wasn’t pulled back into a tight knot. The silky strands hung loose in auburn wet waves over her shoulders and down her back.

  “Oh good, I was just coming to look for you.” Her gaze skimmed right past Mitch as if he wasn’t standing a foot away from her nose. She looked beyond him to Harry.

  A distinct sense of satisfaction filled Harry’s chest and the hotter, more primal feelings tugged his cock back to full staff. Edie was looking for him. Not Mitch.

  The phone rang in the living room behind her.

  “Come in while I answer that.” Edie dove for the phone, her face a darker shade of pink than a warm shower could account for.

  Had she been as affected by him as he was by her? Harry stepped past Mitch, allowing his smile to spill across his face.

  “Don’t push me,” Mitch growled.

  * * * * *

  “Miss Ragsdale, this is Professor Johansson I found something interesting.”

  The strain in the older man’s voice made the hairs rise on the back of Edie’s neck. “What did you find?”

  “I’d rather not say over the phone. Could you come by my office tomorrow at lunch?”

  “Certainly,” she answered when a million questions raced through her mind.

  “Miss Ragsdale?”

  “Yes, Professor?”

  “Does anyone else know about the existence of the stone?” His voice was lower, almost a whisper.

  A prickle of something like fear shivered down Edie’s spine. “Two other people that I know of.”

  “Do you trust them?”

  Edie’s gaze traveled from Harry to Mitch and back to Harry. She’d known Mitch for long enough to trust him, but Harry? “Yes, I do.”

  “Don’t tell anyone else, at least not until you hear what I have to say.”

  “Yes, sir.” Whatever he had to say must be im
portant. Edie had never known Professor Johansson to withhold information about a find. “Are you all right, Professor?”

  “Yes, yes.” Now the man sounded distracted. “Protect the stone at all costs. Do you understand? Hide it. Steal it if you have to.”

  “What?” Edie’s heart rate increased. Could he know she’d already “borrowed” the stone from the museum? But she never expected the professor to suggest she steal it. “What is this stone?”

  “I’ll fill you in tomorrow. I have to go.”

  Before she could say more, she heard a click on the other end of the line. Professor Johansson had hung up.

  The clock on the wall chimed ten times, a quiet reminder of how late it was getting. Damn. Where had the day gone?

  Her pulse still hammering in her veins, she turned to the two men and shrugged as casually as she could. No use getting anybody else upset. “Professor Johansson said he found something interesting about the stone.”

  Mitch’s eyebrows rose. “Interesting?”

  “Did he say what?” Harry looked incredible in the faded jeans Mitch had provided. A white New York Yankees T-shirt stretched tight across his chest and upper arms bulging in all the right places, emphasizing well-defined muscles. With his bare feet and shoulder-length hair, he could set any woman’s heart on fire.

  Especially Edie, who couldn’t drag her gaze away. “No, he didn’t. But he wants me to come by his office at lunch tomorrow. Speaking of which, I have to be at work by seven-thirty tomorrow morning. I need to get some sleep.”

  “What about the stone?” Harry asked.

  “It’ll keep until tomorrow.”

  “What about him?” Mitch jerked his head toward Harry. “You want me to put him up for the night?”

  Edie shook her head. The mere thought of Harry leaving her immediate vicinity left her feeling cold and incomplete. “I’d rather have him close. For some reason, I feel responsible for him.”

  Harry leaned against the wall, his face impassive. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “Too late,” Mitch piped in. “Edie, I’m not sure about him staying here with you. You barely know him.”