by Amy Andrews
He’d been looking forward to seeing her – had thought about little else on his flight from China. Had been looking forward to getting her alone after the festivities and getting reacquainted with her body.
Jo-Jo Windsor had grown into one mighty fine looking woman.
She’d always been intriguing, of course, despite her second-hand school uniform being too baggy on her gangly frame and the style-challenged home haircut making a mess of her copper tresses. Not to mention those dreadful braces.
But her fierce earnestness had negated it all. As had eyes that had glowed with passion and burned with injustice, a sharp intellect and a cutting wit.
She’d hadn’t been like any other girl he’d known then or since and he’d loved how he could talk to her back then without things getting weird.
And not just about girl-stuff either. Big stuff. Important stuff. Other girls had always had an agenda around him but not Jo-Jo and, frankly, that had been a relief.
Fashion hadn’t been her friend in her uni years either. Being scholarship kids they’d both roomed at the same college and he’d probably seen more of her than he had in high school. She’d moved on from the uniform to old jeans, track pants and baggy sweatshirts. Her hair was longer but still worn around her face like a drab curtain, occasionally pulled into two low ponytails falling limply down her back. The hours of indoor study had dulled it to rust.
But still, she’d stimulated him intellectually more than any other woman he’d ever met. And made him laugh more too.
And then he’d announced he was quitting and joining a stock brokerage firm and they hadn’t seen each other again. Not until Pete and Kelly’s wedding six years later.
Sure, their mutual friends had kept them up-to-date on each other’s news but – whoa! He had not been expecting such a vision of loveliness.
Good-bye Jo. Hello Johanna.
With her hair a vibrant cinnamon and stylishly bobbed he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her – despite the dreadful floral fabric of her meringue dress. And later that night, he hadn’t been able to take his hands off her.
Ed grimaced as things stirred in his groin. He turned the taps to cold and stood under the freezing spray for as long as he could stand. The last thing he needed right now was a hard-on thinking about Johanna and their three very separate yet equally spectacular nights together.
There would be no Johanna tonight. He was going to bed alone.
His ardour sufficiently dampened by the cold water, Ed flicked the tap off, and reached for the towel. He dried himself briskly. What he needed was a stiff scotch and a solid eight hours sleep.
Unfortunately, what he wanted was entirely different. What he wanted was to be inside her. What he wanted was to be exploring every nook and cranny of her body for a solid eight hours.
Ed wrapped the towel tightly around his waist and secured it low on his hips, ruthlessly suppressing further stirrings. He yanked opened the bathroom door and stepped out, desperately thinking about the fiery warmth of a scotch against his tongue instead of the taste of Johanna.
A scratching noise at his lock pulled him up abruptly. He turned and frowned as the handle jiggled. He heard some whirring and clicking and the handle jiggled again as if someone was trying to access his door with the wrong key. He covered the short distance to the door and looked into the peephole.
His eyes scanned back and forth but he could see nothing other than a well-lit, empty corridor full of doors.
The whirr/click came again and he reached for the handle and yanked open the door.
A yelp accompanied by a woman in ruffles falling in on him was the last thing he expected. She collided with his stomach, her mouth plastered to a point just above his navel.
He knew it was Johanna almost instantly. The perfume she’d been wearing earlier enveloped him.
Berries.
He held on just a little bit longer than necessary. And, was he imagining it, or did her lips linger a little longer too?
She struggled out of his arms and he righted her. ‘What the hell?’ she demanded.
Ed didn’t want to notice that her chest was heaving quite as much as it was. He didn’t want to think about what else he could be doing to make it heave even more.
He didn’t want her here at all. Not if she was going to glare at him like that and argue with him. Johanna argued better than any woman he knew and he’d admired the hell out of her for it. But right now he could think of much better uses for her delectable mouth.
And she didn’t get to barge in on him and act like the injured party. She didn’t get to tell him she wasn’t having sex with him then turn up at his room looking somehow wildly sexy in those god awful ruffles and smelling like berries.
Oh no. That wasn’t the way it worked.
‘Change your mind about the ruining then?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She gaped at him then whacked him in the chest with her purse. ‘Bastard.’
Ed rubbed his chest. ‘No? That’s fine. The orgy participants are arriving in a jiffy if you’d rather?’ he goaded.
She whacked him again. ‘Sicko. Not in my room you’re not.’
Ed frowned. ‘Your room? I don’t think so.’
She held up her key jacket with the room number written on the inside. She pointed at the neat cursive print. ‘Room 732.’
Ed reached for it and glanced at the number. ‘Well there’s obviously been a mix up.’
‘Really, you think? How did you get to be so good with numbers,’ she asked her voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘Oh that’s right, you’re a stockbroker now.’
Ed decided to ignore her. Johanna was clearly still angry with him. He’d kind of got that with her glowering across the dance floor at him for the last three hours but now the wedding was done and their duty discharged, his give-a-damn was non-existent.
‘Why is my bag in your room if there’s been a mix up?’
Ed turned around following the direction of Johanna’s finger. From this vantage point he could see two bags, not one, sitting on the stand near the television cabinet. He hadn’t seen his room until just now and he’d been so tired he’d done nothing other than a cursory check before heading straight into the shower.
‘Come in,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll ring the front desk.’
‘Oh no.’ Johanna crossed her arms across her chest, doing weird unnatural things to the row of ruffles there. He shook his head. Why anyone would want to hide perfectly good breasts beneath a fashion trend that should have died in the eighties, he had no idea.
Give him that shrink-wrapped concoction any day.
‘I am not stepping foot inside your…boudoir. I am perfectly capable of standing right here and ringing the desk myself. I have a phone,’ she said, pulling it from her bag and brandishing it in front of him. ‘And I have the hotel number programmed in.’
Ed laughed, still stuck back at boudoir. Sure, he’d goaded her into it but how many other ways was she going to call him a man whore tonight? He shrugged and gestured for her to use it. ‘Carry on.’
He went and poured himself that scotch while Johanna made the phone call. By the time he returned she was clearly done. And even more annoyed if the flush staining her cheeks was anything to go by.
‘Apparently there’s no mistake,’ she said, looking indignant and somehow like it was his fault. ‘Kelly booked us both into this room.’
Laughter bubbled up inside him but Ed knew better than to let it escape while Johanna looked like she was about to take out a contract on the new bride. He bit down on his lip.
‘That’s a bit cheeky,’ he mused non-commitally.
‘Cheeky my arse,’ Johanna snorted. She watched as she scrolled through her phone again. ‘We’ll just see about that.’
Ed shook his head and took a few steps closer as her intent became clear. ‘You can’t ring them now. It’s their wedding night.’
‘Oh please,’ Johanna dismissed. ‘They’ve been living together for five years, they�
�re hardly virgins.’
‘Okay,’ Ed shrugged. ‘But if they don’t answer, don’t blame me.’
They answered a lot quicker than Ed would have had it been his wedding night. He sipped at his scotch as he listened to the one-sided conversation.
‘Kelly, why are Ed and I booked into the same room?’
Ed watched as a frown creased Johanna’s delicate brow. She had quite regal features. A straight, small nose, a pointy chin, fragile looking cheekbones. Her face was dominated by huge almond eyes, and at the moment they were none too happy.
‘Well yes I know that we’ve…’ she glanced at him and Ed smiled as she turned her back and lowered her voice. ‘…slept in the same room before but –’
There was silence again as Kelly was obviously speaking. ‘I appreciate you trying to do me a favour,’ Johanna murmured. ‘But –’
More silence. ‘Yes I know he’s a…’ Ed strained to hear the next words but Johanna’s voice had dropped even further. He was pretty sure she said sex god though.
He grinned.
‘Right.’ Johanna’s voice was louder again. ‘Okay. Of course…yes. Sorry, Ronald. Sorry to have disturbed. Thank –’
Ed hid his smile behind his glass as Johanna pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. He got the impression that Kelly – or more likely Ronald – had hung up.
‘That was nice of them to do us a favour,’ he said innocently, trying hard not to laugh out loud. ‘Our friends know us well.’
‘Hmph.’ Another unladylike snort emanated from her sinfully sexy mouth. She glared at him like it was his fault again as she pushed another button on her phone and brought it to her ear. ‘I’ll get another room.’
Ed sighed and took another sip of his scotch. She really didn’t want to be anywhere near him, did she? She turned her back and the light above caught the track of her zipper. It ran up the centre of the dress from her bottom to her shoulder blades and he knew if he slipped it down he’d find the furrow of her spine.
He remembered dipping his tongue into that interesting little furrow, stroking it all the way up to her neck and all the way down to her bottom.
Things started to stir behind the towel again.
‘Hello? Yes…do you have any rooms available please? I’m currently in room 732 and would like another, thank you.’
Ed wondered what underwear she had on beneath all those distracting ruffles.
‘No, it’s perfectly fine. I just don’t want to share tonight.’
He wondered if she was wearing a bra? What the hell kind of dress was it where that very important piece of information wasn’t instantly ascertainable?
‘What do you mean…?’
No kind of dress worthy of the name, that’s for sure. A man should be able to tell things like that at a glance.
‘What? None?’
Ed dragged his head out of her bra knowing if he kept going like this then it wouldn’t matter how thick and luxurious the five star towels of The Chatsfield were, they wouldn’t be any kind of match for his erection.
‘I don’t mind if it’s small.’ She gave a tinny laugh. ‘A broom cupboard would do.’
Oh dear. It seemed there was no room at the inn.
Her sigh when it came was big and deep and Ed had to feel sorry for her. ‘Yes, okay, of course, I’m sorry. If there’s no room there’s no room, right?’
Three seconds later she’d hung up and was looking at him.
‘No rooms, huh?’
Her gaze skittered to the big king-sized bed just over his shoulder. She shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not. Apparently there are three functions at The Chatsfield tonight, madam.’
Ed smiled at the upper class British accent she’d put on, mimicking the staff at the desk perfectly. She’d always had a good ear for accents.
‘They’re fully booked,’ she said glumly.
‘Oh, that’s a shame…’ he said, trying not to look too gleeful at his unexpected windfall. ‘Whatever will we do?’
She glanced down at him, and his belly clenched as her gaze devoured the press of his semi hard-on against the towel. A few seconds passed where he actually thought she was going to reach out and touch him.
So not helping the swelling problem.
Then he watched her take a deep breath and drag her gaze away. ‘You can put your bloody clothes on for a start.’
Chapter Three
Johanna sat on the end of the bed and buried her face in her hands. She was doomed. There was no way she was going to be able to share this room with him and not end up naked and screaming his name.
Just keeping her hands off him in that towel had required a supreme effort.
Ed had a body that begged to be touched. She ought to know – three long nights of touching him had burned it into her brain. Every firm rounded muscle, every shadowy dip, every bony prominence had been a pleasure to caress.
He’d been a pure, tactile delight.
And so damn appreciative.
She still remembered vividly the way his body had bucked and shivered beneath her hands. The way he’d sucked in his breath as her fingers had gone exploring and his low throaty growl as her mouth had joined the party. He’d been like a big sleek, cat, arching and purring, letting her know exactly how much he’d enjoyed her touch.
And, God help her, she’d touched him. She’d touched him a lot.
That first night together she hadn’t been able to stop. Hadn’t been able to believe that they were finally together, that he was finally hers to do with as she wanted.
And now here she was, full circle, desperate not to touch.
Johanna glanced at the couch. It was narrow and not exactly huge. With its beautifully carved legs and old-fashioned heavy brocade fabric it was more for show than function. Ed’s frame would certainly dwarf it but maybe he’d do the chivalrous thing and offer to sleep there? He did, after all, have impeccable manners.
She heard the bathroom door open and pulled her face out of her hands, bracing herself.
‘There’s an extra towel if you want the bathroom,’ he said as he sauntered by in boxers that showed off the long tanned musculature of his legs, and a white t-shirt that sat snug against his chest.
Johanna clenched her fists into the acres of taffeta ruffles that made up her dress. It rustled loud enough to be heard next door. She cleared her throat, determined to be cool about their situation. ‘Yes, please.’
All she’d wanted since dancing with him was to stand under a steaming hot shower for hours and wash away the touch and the smell of him.
Now she needed a cold one. A very cold one.
Johanna stood, then sat just as abruptly as she remembered she didn’t have anything to wear. All she’d packed into her overnight bag was a dress for tomorrow and a change of underwear.
‘What?’ he asked from somewhere behind her.
‘I don’t have pyjamas.’
She cringed at his chuckle. ‘You didn’t pack PJs because…you figured you were going to end up naked with me anyway so why bother?’
Johanna turned and glared at him. His beautiful mouth was turned up sexily at the corners and he had his flirty eyes on. In the low lamplight with his hair all damp and dark, Ed looked like a naughty angel.
‘I didn’t pack PJs because I don’t own PJs,’ she informed him.
It gave her a great deal of satisfaction to see the smile droop and his throat bob. ‘You sleep in the buff?’
Johanna lifted her chin at the incredulity in his voice. ‘Yes. You got a problem with that?’
He shook his head. ‘Not at all.’ His face broke into a broad grin as he folded his arms across his chest. ‘In fact I think you should definitely continue as if you were in your natural habitat. Feel free to walk around without a stitch on, I’m good with that.’ He bowed. ‘Mi casa es su casa.’
Johanna rolled her eyes. ‘Forget it. I’ll forgo the shower and just sleep in this.’ The bloody thing had been difficult enough to get into and was pro
bably just as difficult to get out of anyway.
It was certainly ugly enough to curb anyone’s ardour.
Ed’s chuckle rippled seductively towards her causing an outbreak of goosebumps across her arms and shoulders. ‘Here,’ he said, appearing beside her a few seconds later. ‘Have this.’
He was holding up what looked like an almost identical white t-shirt to the one he was wearing. It was going to be huge but it beat being kept awake by the rustle of ugly taffeta all night.
She reached for it. ‘Thanks.’
His hand lingered a little longer than necessary in the hand over. Hers lingered in the taking. ‘My pleasure,’ he murmured, holding her gaze.
Her insides shuddered and Johanna broke the eye contact ruthlessly. If she started making moon eyes at him now she’d never be able to hold firm to her no-sex-with-Ed resolve. If they really had to share this room tonight, no moon eyes allowed.
She stood briskly and was grateful when he fell back, allowing her to swish her way noisily towards the bathroom.
***
Ten minutes later, with frustrated tears welling in her eyes, Johanna admitted defeat. The dress had broken her, the zipper remaining stubbornly in place. She was either going to have to go back to plan A and sleep in the bloody thing or get Ed to give her a hand.
And she desperately needed a shower.
Crap.
She took a deep breath, opened the door, poked her head out and called, ‘Ed!’
He appeared a few seconds later as she was staring dejectedly at her reflection. She looked at him in the mirror. ‘I can’t get the zipper undone.’
His puzzled frown disappeared, quickly replaced by his trademark grin. ‘Let me get this straight,’ he said as he lounged against the door jamb. ‘You want me to…relieve you of your dress?’
His innocent eyes would have been more convincing without the wicked twist to his mouth. She pierced him with a no-nonsense look. ‘Just the zipper will be fine. And I swear Ed, if you make one wisecrack…’
He grinned again as he pushed off the jamb. ‘Jo-Jo, you wound me with your lack of faith,’ he tutted.