She rolled her eyes but kept them firmly fixed over his shoulder.
‘Johanna?’
Johanna sighed at his persistence. ‘I’m not angry with you,’ she said, looking up at him, her nostrils filling up with the scent of him, her breath hitching at how very close, how very tempting his mouth was.
How could she be angry with him when she wanted to kiss him so damn bad her head was pounding with the temptation of it? ‘I’m angry with myself.’
And that was the kicker. She could blame Ed and his underwear-melting smile as much as she liked but he hadn’t put a gun to her head. He hadn’t forced her into his bed those last three times – she’d gone willingly.
Hell, she’d gone faster than a speeding bullet.
But it had to stop.
‘For denying yourself the pleasure of my company tonight?’
He waggled his eyebrows and grinned down at her and she couldn’t help but smile back even as the true answer burned a hole right through her chest wall.
For falling in love with you, you moron.
‘Because I don’t do casual sex, Ed. And then you come along and my inhibitions fly right out the window and I don’t like being that girl.’
‘What girl is that?’
‘Your bonk buddy. Your booty call. I don’t want to be your bridesmaid with benefits.’
‘The sex is that bad?’
Johanna rolled her eyes at his faux crestfallen look. She was pleased one of them was enjoying themselves. ‘No. It’s good. And you know it. You’re ruining me for other men, Ed.’
‘Excellent,’ he grinned. ‘I’ve always wanted to ruin a woman. It’s so very Victorian. Suits the hotel don’t you think?’
Johanna shook her head at the devilish gleam in his eyes. Good old Ed – couldn’t be serious about anything. ‘Well, there are two hundred people at this wedding, a good proportion of them single females, I’m sure you’ll find someone to charm into your bed.’
He looked down into her face, a frown creasing his brow, and even crinkled and serious he looked better than any man had a right to.
‘You make me sound very shallow, Jo-Jo.’
Johanna dragged her gaze from the accusation in his, planting it firmly over his shoulder once again. ‘If the cap fits…’ she murmured.
She felt him stiffen a little in her arms and Johanna hated that he’d reduced her to some sharp-tongued shrew. She knew there were depths to Ed that he didn’t show the world. That beneath the super-cool, man-about-town, sex-god façade was a deep thinker, a compassionate humanitarian.
His charity donations alone were staggering.
Could he help it if that package came wrapped in very distracting man-bling? Bling that attracted women faster than a display window at Tiffany’s?
Hell, Ed might as well be packed into a little blue box and be done with it.
Thankfully the song drew to an end, sparing them both any further strained conversation. Johanna pulled out of his arms at the first opportunity. ‘Your duty has been discharged,’ she said, her smile feeling stiff and achy on her face. ‘You are free to ruin at will.’
He reached for her. ‘Jo-Jo, I –’
But Johanna pulled away before his fingers could make contact with her arm. Her body literally ached for wanting him – she wasn’t sure how much physical contact she could take before she succumbed to it.
‘The name is Johanna,’ she snapped.
And she turned on her heel and whirled away, her ruffles flaring.
Carmen Miranda would have been proud.
Ed was dog tired by the time he hit the shower in his sumptuous hotel room around midnight. He’d flown in only this morning from a whistle-stop business tour of China and the jet lag was catching up with him. The heat from the shower and the luxury of the surroundings helped. The tiles were marble, the taps were gilt and the shower head was enormous.
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