MisplacedLessons

by Mari Carr

  Rising, he crossed to his dresser and dug around for a pair of sweatpants. Throwing them on, he walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shave. His thick beard grew in quickly and it had been at least four days since his face had seen a razor thanks to the trip from hell. His onscreen persona was always clean-shaven, so he wasn’t used to the scruffy man in the mirror.

  He grimaced at his reflection. The circles under his eyes were too dark, his face lined with tiredness. He saw a nap in his very near future. It would probably take him a day or two to get his system sorted out.

  One thing he’d never managed to overcome with his job was the adjustments to the ever-changing time zones. No matter how many cross-country journeys he made, he still suffered a sort of day-after hangover, struggling for twenty-four hours to adapt to the new time.

  For a moment he considered calling Mike, but dismissed the idea. There was no way he was giving his cocky friend yet another opportunity to rub Andrew’s nose in something. Actually, it would serve Mike right if Andrew simply avoided his calls for a few days. His best friend was as meddlesome as a tabloid reporter. It might be fun to make Mike suffer for a while, wondering how his night with Amy turned out.

  Amy. His mind whirled over everything that had happened last night. She’d pulled him out of his misery, giving him some of the best sex of his life. He wasn’t sure what made her different from the women he usually hooked up with at Velvet Chains. Perhaps it was just as she’d said. She didn’t submit easily. He typically played with the same subs at the club. They were well-trained, obedient. Boring. He missed the challenge.

  Amy had pushed him out of his all-powerful Dom role and forced him to work for his reward. She wasn’t passive. Instead, she was refreshing, fun. Mike would have a field day with that knowledge.

  Despite her obvious inexperience, he hadn’t pulled any punches, hadn’t handled her with kid gloves. And she’d taken to his rough touches like a rock star to the spotlight.

  He returned to the bedroom. Picking up his phone from the nightstand, he took one last look at the bed. His midnight visitor was even prettier in daylight.

  He rolled his eyes. Christ. He was acting like a smitten teenager with his first girlfriend.

  Get a grip, Shaw.

  It was just sex. Incredible, blow-your-balls-off sex. But just sex nonetheless.

  Amy showed no signs of rising soon, so he headed for the kitchen. He needed coffee to clear his head. The bright light of morning and the few hours of sleep he’d managed to snag were bringing too much clarity to his not-quite-as-tired mind. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what.

  Heading down the hallway, he glanced in the guest room as he passed—

  He paused.

  There was an unfamiliar suitcase resting open on the bed. Amy’s? Had she been so certain of her success with him that she’d packed a bag?

  The idea bothered him. Entering the room, he casually looked to see what she’d brought with her. The clothing didn’t look like the stuff a woman would use to seduce a man. No sexy lingerie or revealing outfits. In fact, with the exception of one pretty hot leather miniskirt, there was nothing more than jeans and regular tops, a bathroom bag and a travel book about Chicago.

  What the hell? It appeared Amy had come here straight from the airport. Maybe he’d place a call to Mike after all. Somehow the pieces to this puzzle weren’t fitting together. Time to ask some questions.

  Andrew continued to the kitchen, filled the coffeepot with water and counted out twelve scoops. He added another for good measure. Something told him he needed a strong brew today. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was almost nine. Not too early to call his friend.

  He picked up his phone and dialed. Mike answered with a chipper “hello”. Idiot man had always been a morning person.

  “Hey, Mike. What’s Amy look like?”

  “What?”

  Andrew sighed. “The girl you want to fix me up with. What does she look like?”

  There was a slight pause on the other end. “Never known you to be so shallow, Andrew. Why does it matter?”

  “It doesn’t. I’m just curious. Describe her.”

  Mike started rattling off a list of physical attributes that basically told him nothing. “Brown hair, brown eyes, nice figure, medium height.”

  The adjectives were too bland for Amy’s chestnut tresses, chocolate-brown eyes and curves, but they still fit. “Does she have an accent?”

  “What the hell kind of question is that?”

  Andrew gritted his teeth. “A pretty fucking simple one. Yes or no?”

  “She doesn’t have a discernable one. I mean, she’s an Army brat and she spent some time in the South. Every now and then I catch a trace of a twang, but it’s nothing to write home about.”

  “So she’s not Australian?”

  Mike chuckled. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you drinking already?”

  “No. Listen. I gotta go. Talk to you later.”

  “Are you going to explain—”

  Andrew clicked the phone off in the middle of Mike’s question.

  Who the fuck was upstairs in his bed?

  He’d accused her of breaking in, but she’d claimed to have a key. If Mike didn’t give it to her, then who did?

  Harper. The only other person with a house key was his sister.

  Shit.

  The Australian teacher.

  Harper had mentioned the woman several times in passing over the past year. Something about starting a pen pal program.

  He tried to recall if Harper had ever said the woman’s name. He was sure she had, but it simply hadn’t stuck. He really needed to work on his paying attention skills.

  Great. So now he knew who was in his bed. Problem was he still didn’t know why she was there or where Harper was. He reached for his phone once more and dialed his sister’s number. It took him straight to voicemail.

  “Harper. It’s Andrew. Why the fuck is Amy here? And where the fuck are you? Call me back.”

  He clicked off the phone and cursed his temper. She’d never call him back now.

  Andrew retrieved his laptop from the front hall where he’d left it last night and fired it up on the island in the kitchen. Then he pulled over a stool. A quick check of his email confirmed what his producer had said yesterday. Filming would be postponed for not quite a week and if the monsoon did too much damage, they’d have to fall back and punt, find another locale.

  Harper had said her so-called conference would last one week. Now he was wondering if that was where she really was. Why would she invite a friend to visit from Australia, then leave town?

  She wouldn’t.

  He racked his brain for an answer, but nothing came. He glanced upward. One person knew what was going on and she was sleeping in the room above his head. Since it didn’t appear Harper was going to answer his questions, maybe it was time he and Amy had a little heart-to-heart.

  Time for the moment of truth. Climbing the stairs, he headed toward his room.

  He was surprised when he spotted Amy, fully dressed and sitting on the edge of his bed, talking on the phone. He paused at the doorway. She hadn’t noticed him.

  “What the hell am I supposed to tell him?” she asked the other person on the phone.

  Him who? Him him?

  “I understand that, but…” She paused, obviously listening to something the other person was saying. “Okay. I’ll try. Yeah. Sure. I promise.”

  Amy’s shoulders sagged as she sighed and he wondered who she was talking to. Was she talking to Harper? About him?

  He stepped into the room. Amy’s eyes widened when she spotted him.

  “Um, listen. I have to go. Give my love to Thomo and Blue. See you later.”

  She disconnected the phone quickly and turned it off.

  “Important phone call?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. Just checking in back home.” He couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes wandered away from
his. Amy was a lousy poker player.

  “I noticed your suitcase in the guest room.”

  She nodded, but didn’t offer an answer. Her eyes, which had been so warm and friendly last night, seemed leery this morning. He walked across the room, standing in front of her. He casually took her phone from her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, trying to grab it back.

  Andrew flicked it on. Fucking security lock. “Who were you talking to?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Sweetheart, you made it my business when you broke into my house and made yourself at home in my bed.”

  Amy bit her lower lip. He was being an asshole, but he was tired and starting to worry about his sister.

  “I told you. I didn’t break in. I have a key.”

  He nodded slowly. “That’s right. The key. Who gave it to you?”

  “A friend.”

  Andrew’s temper exploded. “Goddamn it, Amy. I’m not playing around. Who gave you the fucking key?”

  Apparently he wasn’t the only one who’d woken up in a bad mood. Amy rose from the bed, placed her hands on her hips and leaned forward, her gaze narrowed. “Who did you think I was last night?”

  Her question caught him unaware. “Someone else.”

  “Obviously. Do you make it a habit to chain strange women to your bed and fuck them senseless?”

  A nasty grin formed. “You weren’t exactly fighting me off, angel.”

  “Funny. Those scratches on your face seem to say differently.”

  They could spend all day arguing over all the ways last night was wrong…and oh so right. Andrew didn’t have time for that.

  “You shaved.” Her comment took him off guard.

  Andrew rubbed his jaw, touching the smooth skin. “So?”

  “I recognize you now.”

  She knew him? “How?”

  “I looked you up online. Googled your name and saw a few short clips from your show. I thought your eyes looked familiar last night, but I was jet-lagged and not thinking very clearly. The beard threw me.”

  “Where’s Harper?”

  Amy’s face lost its color, her flushed cheeks fading to white. “Harper?”

  “Don’t play stupid. Where’s my sister? Is that who you were talking to on the phone?”

  Amy released a long sigh and sank on to the mattress. “I don’t suppose you’ll just take my word when I say she’s fine.”

  He crossed his arms. “You’re right. I won’t. Tell me where she is.”

  “She asked me not to. And I promised I wouldn’t.”

  Andrew frowned. “Harper wouldn’t do that. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”

  Amy shrugged. “I guess you do now.”

  He tried to figure out why Harper would skip town without telling him. His mind drifted back to a disagreement they’d had a few weeks earlier. Harper had said something about needing to get away. He’d offered to take her on location with him, but she’d said she was twenty-five and more than capable of taking a vacation on her own. He had tried to convince her it was no fun traveling alone. Eventually she just let the conversation drop and he thought she’d given up on the idea.

  Apparently she hadn’t.

  Andrew sat down on the bed next to Amy. He wasn’t making progress with his asshole routine. Time to turn on the charm. He reached out and grasped her hand. Amy accepted it, though suspicion filled her eyes.

  “All I’m asking is where she is, Amy. It’s not like I’m going to fly off to parts unknown to find her.”

  “Actually, that’s exactly what she said you’ll do.”

  “She’s wrong.”

  Amy gave him a grin he instantly distrusted. “Then why do you need to know where she is?”

  His grip tightened. “Is she in the country?”

  Amy didn’t reply, her gaze holding steady on his, offering him no clue. Why was Amy here when Harper wasn’t?

  The truth crashed down on him like an avalanche. “Motherfucker. She flew to Australia, didn’t she?”

  Amy tried to hold steady, but this time, he caught her slight wince. His sister had taken off halfway across the goddamn planet.

  “Where in Australia?”

  Amy tried to retrieve her hand, but he refused to let go. “Where?” he repeated. “Is she at your house?”

  More silence met his question.

  “Fine. I’ll find her myself.”

  “How?” she asked.

  He didn’t have a clue. He didn’t know Amy’s last name, didn’t have any idea where she lived in Oz, nothing. “You’re going to tell me.”

  She laughed. “I already told you I wouldn’t. Australia’s a bloody big country, you know? If you’re going to go over there to look for her, you better start now. Should only take you a few…dozen years or so.”

  “Thanks for the geography lesson, but I’m not going off on a wild goose chase. I won’t need to. You’ll tell me everything I need to know. I can be very persuasive when I need to be.”

  She didn’t bother to respond, her smirk tweaking his nerves. “I’d really love to hang out and chat, but I need to get going. Looks like I need to find a new place to stay since my holiday home is already occupied.”

  Now it was his turn to grin. “You’re not going anywhere. In fact, you’re my collateral. Until you tell me where my sister is or until Harper comes home, you’re staying right here where I can keep an eye on you. Consider yourself under house arrest.”

  He expected her to argue, to pitch a fit, to wage a battle similar to the one they’d engaged in the previous evening. His damn cock actually started to thicken at the thought.

  He should have known better. Amy hadn’t done a single predictable thing since stripping off her clothes and crawling between his sheets.

  Instead, she smiled, looking very pleased by his threat. “Fine. I don’t have enough money for a hotel anyway.” She stood, though he still kept hold of her hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go unpack my things in the guest room.”

  “Oh. Did I forget to mention? You’ll be staying in this room. With me.”

  Amy feigned a yawn. “Been there, done that.”

  “And you’ll be doing it again.”

  She started to tug against his grip in earnest, but he held firm. “Not in this lifetime, hotshot. Last night you got lucky because I was tired and not thinking straight. Today’s a different game.”

  “That’s right.” He twisted her hands behind her back, securing them there in one of his then reaching into the nightstand drawer and pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He snapped then in place easily, despite Amy’s struggles. “This game is completely new.”

  Amy’s head spun. Andrew was keeping her here? In his room?

  And he thought she’d be resistant?

  Andrew really didn’t understand the difference between punishment and bloody good fun. His high-handed ways were slightly annoying, but they were nothing she couldn’t deal with. She’d held her own against Thomo and Blue for years, so this Yank had another thing coming if he thought he was going to run roughshod over her.

  Besides, he was playing completely into her hand. She needed a place to stay in Chicago the next two weeks and sharing his king-sized bed would be no hardship. In fact, despite the cuffs at her wrists—how hot were they?—she’d say the morning had turned out much better than she’d expected.

  She’d woken up in a full-fledged panic, wondering what the hell she was supposed do. Instinct overpowered intelligence and before she could think through why she shouldn’t call Harper, her friend was on the other end of the line.

  It had been on the tip of her tongue to confess to the misunderstanding that had led to a night of amazing sex, but Amy wasn’t sure how Harper would feel about her friend sleeping with her brother. Besides, Harper sounded so happy and excited, she hated to say anything to ruin her friend’s vacation.

  Just because she’d epically fucked up everything, there was no reason to take Harper down with her
. Instead, she’d simply told her friend that Andrew had returned early. She wasn’t sure what she had expected Harper to say, but she was surprised when her friend begged her to continue to hide the fact she was in Australia.

  How was Amy supposed to stay in Harper’s house without confessing to Andrew who she was? Although she’d suspected—and rightly so—that Andrew would figure it out on his own eventually.

  Then Andrew had walked in. One look at his pissed-off face and she’d begun trying to mentally calculate how much money was in her bank account and how high she’d have to charge up her credit cards to foot the bill for a hotel room.

  Her conscience nagged, telling her it was wrong to sleep with Harper’s brother. Fortunately, she’d always been very good at justifying most of her questionable actions. After all, Harper was forcing her to take this path as Amy was simply trying to protect her friend’s secret.

  God. She was pathetic.

  And still bloody horny.

  Andrew had appeared last night with that Zac Efron-looking scruff he’d sported in The Lucky One and Amy had been a goner. Even without the short beard, Andrew was entirely too good-looking for her peace of mind.

  “Start walking,” Andrew said, pushing her toward the doorway. “I’m feeling the need for a hearty breakfast. Gonna have to build up my strength. Then you and I will spend the rest of the day in bed—getting better acquainted in between naps while we recover from our jet lag. By the way, you’ll be chained to the headboard. Sound good?”

  “Sounds perfect.” She struggled not to laugh when Andrew frowned at her response. God, he really was making this all too easy. “And just so you know, you’re not going to trick me into telling you anything about where I live.”

  His grip on her arm tightened. Amy’s stomach clenched. She was a sucker for an alpha male.

  They walked in silence down the hallway. Amy caught a glimpse of her suitcase in the guest room and felt like dancing. Her trip was saved after all. She wouldn’t go broke paying for a hotel room and she would be treated to night after night of nonstop, no-holds-barred sex with Andrew.