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Jodie woke with a start and the words “Oh hell no!” screaming in her head. Even though it was pitch black, she knew instantly where she was and what she’d done. Even if she hadn’t, the fact she was lying on her stomach in the middle of the bed with a large hand on her backside would have been a clue. Slowly, silently, Jodie turned her head to see Mitch lying on his back beside her, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other resting on her back as he cupped her rear. He was breathing deeply, steadily, sound asleep. Relief flooded Jodie, followed closely by resolve—she had to get out of there.
Jodie inched out from under Mitch’s hand and let herself fall off the edge of the bed onto the floor, making sure she landed softly. The shade curtains were drawn, but the bedside clock told her it was almost seven a.m. On hands and knees, she crawled around the bed, trying to find her clothes. Her hands hit jeans and she pulled them to her. Her heart was beating so loudly that she could hardly hear Mitch’s breathing over the noise. Her phone was in the pocket of her jeans. She switched it on. The light from it helped her to find one boot and her underpants before it cut out again. Several more times hitting the on button, while wishing she’d downloaded a flashlight app, let her find her tank top. There was no sign of her bra or the other boot. She would just have to sacrifice them to the god of stupid, slutty women who slept with strange American men.
Slowly, she pulled on her jeans. The material made a loud, rasping sound that she’d never noticed before. It rang out like an alarm in the darkness. She wobbled as she tugged them over her thighs. Inside her head she cursed the invention of skinny jeans, swearing that if she got out of this situation she was going to hunt down the inventor and make them pay. It took ten years to inch the damn jeans up over her hips. Even then she didn’t dare pull up the zip.
In the blackness, she bent down to grab her tank from the floor and hit her head on the coffee table. The dull thud echoed through the room. She froze, standing there topless, with her throbbing forehead resting on the table, her backside in the air, waiting to be caught. Mitch turned, but kept sleeping. Jodie waited, counting his breaths until she was sure it was safe to move and then stood. Wearing one boot was pointless, but it didn’t seem right to deliberately leave it behind. She tucked it into the back of her jeans so that her hands were free.
Using the light from the phone, she tiptoed to the door. Mitch made a noise as she turned the handle. Jodie quickly killed the light and rushed through the door—straight into the closet.
She hung her head in disgust.
And that was when her phone went off. In Jodie’s panicked state, she couldn’t remember how to switch the sound off. She wedged the phone between her thighs to muffle it, and waited until whoever the hell it was stopped calling.
She’d aged fifty years by the time her ringtone—Gaga’s “Bad Romance”—stopped playing. Quickly, she grabbed her phone and switched it to silent. The screen told her she’d missed a call from her brother. As she stared at it, a text came through. The vibration echoed through the closet, making the sound seem much louder than it should have been to her oversensitive ears. Jodie stared up at the dark ceiling and silently begged God to put her out of her misery. It didn’t happen, so she read the message that was so important Deke had to once again conquer his fear of texting. Or as he put it, “real men don’t text, they pick up the damn phone and make the call.”
Where the hell are you? You need to get back here. We have a problem.
Jodie typed fast. Bk sn. Stp frkn.
The reply took a minute to come back, as Deke insisted on typing every single word properly.
Stop freaking? Some dickhead painted the building with graffiti.
Jodie jerked up straight. Graffiti?
They spray-painted crap about the spa being women-only.
Jodie closed her eyes. The town meeting had stirred up the underbelly. Prbly kds. At least, she hoped it was. They really didn’t need this sort of attention. Tell cops?
I’ll call them. It would look suspicious if we didn’t. And use proper bloody English. Words have vowels. Sentences have joining words!
Jodie leaned her head against the hanging shirts and took a deep breath. A bad idea, because the scent that was uniquely Mitch engulfed her and made her thought process wobble. This was not happening. She was not thirty-six and stuck in a hotel closet while having a text argument about grammar with her younger brother. It was all a dream brought on by too much stress and not enough sleep.
Fine, you deal with the cops, Jodie typed fast, making sure she used full words. I’ll be back soon.
Where the hell are you, anyway?
None of your business!
Jodie switched the phone off. She’d had enough of her brother for one morning, and she had more important things to deal with. Like getting out of the closet, and room, without alerting her one-night stand. She reached for the door handle just as it turned. It slowly swung open, revealing a very naked Mitch in a dimly lit room.
“Baby,” he drawled sleepily, “you’re in the closet.”
Jodie did the only thing she could under the circumstances: she straightened her shoulders and rose above the situation—at least, that’s what she was aiming for.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just leaving.”
Mitch looked behind her at the closet full of clothes. “To Narnia?”
Jodie scowled at him before striding into the room, aware of how ridiculous she must look.
Mitch rubbed his chin, obviously uncaring that he was stark naked. “You’ve got a boot hanging out the back of your jeans and your tank is on inside out.” He seemed bewildered.
Jodie ignored the comment, because really, what could she say to make her situation seem less ridiculous? Nothing, that’s what.
She strode straight to what she hoped was the correct door, put her hand on the handle and worked at being gracious. “Thank you for a lovely night. I hope you have a nice visit to Scotland and safe travel when you fly back home.”
Mitch’s lips twitched as though he was fighting back laughter. He sauntered over to her and casually leaned a shoulder against the door to stop her escape. He crossed his arms and ankles. Her eyes flickered down over his body before fixing on his face. How could he stand there so relaxed about being naked when she was freaking out because she was braless? Just looking at him made her hormones riot. Her brain was demanding she leave with at least some dignity intact, while her body was screaming, “Come to Mama!”
“I’m hoping you had a better time than just lovely, Jodie,” he drawled. “I know I did.”
Her traitorous cheeks began to burn, but she still managed an icy stare. “Do I need to stroke your ego before I go, Mitch?”
Mitch grinned widely and looked down his body. “She named you ego,” he said to his cock. “If she’s naming you, it must mean she wants to keep you.”
To her disgust, Jodie had to fight a smile.
“We had a great time.” Mitch’s hazel eyes captured hers. “Stay for a while. Have breakfast, get to know me.”
The man was walking, talking temptation.
“I can’t, Mitch. I’m in the middle of setting up a new business and there’s a lot to get done before we open. Plus”—she took a deep breath—“this was a one-night thing. There’s really no point in getting to know each other. You have your life in America and I have my life here. I think it’s best if we walk away before it gets too complicated, each of us with a fantastic memory.”
His smile was dazzling. “Jodie, baby, I live here. In Invertary.”
Her brain stuttered. He couldn’t mean...? She looked behind him at the dishevelled room. “You live in a hotel?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been meaning to look for a place, but I travel a lot and haven’t gotten round to it yet.”
“You live in Invertary? Permanently? This is your permanent home?”
“Yep, this is my permanent home.”
“But you’re American.” She felt her cheeks flush again and wished she could gain control of her traitorous body.
“Don’t tell the locals. They think I’m one of them.” He stepped forward, backing her up until she was pressed against the wall beside the door. He placed his hands flat against the wall on either side of her head. His body didn’t touch hers, but she could feel the heat coming off him. His musky scent surrounded her. It was drugging her senses, making her feel dazed.
“But I haven’t seen you around.” Jodie just could not stop the idiocy coming out of her mouth.
This could not be happening. He was supposed to be a tourist. There should have been no repercussions from her one night of sin. She should have known better; Catholic school taught her that there were always consequences—especially when you enjoyed committing the sin in the first place.
Mitch pointed at the puckered red scar low on his right side. “I’ve been recuperating. I had a run-in with the pointy end of a knife. Then I had to travel for work. I only got back into town yesterday.”
Jodie felt the colour drain from her face. Now she knew exactly who this guy was. “You’re Josh McInnes’ manager.”
“Guilty as charged,” he said, clearly amused.
He leaned forward and placed a tiny kiss on the corner of her mouth. She felt it zing through her body and knew she was in trouble. The man was fast becoming her addiction. She held up her hands to ward him off and her palms met his solid flesh. Then, of course, her traitorous fingers kneaded muscle.
“Stay and have breakfast with me, Jodie.” Oh, that voice could lead anyone into sin.
And she had to resist. “I can’t. This was a one-night thing. I didn’t follow you to your room wanting a relationship. I came up here because I thought it would only be one night. That’s all I can do. It’s all I want to do. If you want something else, then you’ll have to look elsewhere. I was inoculated against relationships when I got divorced.”
“Okay, you don’t do relationships. What do you do?” His fingertips trailed, feather-light, down her neck to her shoulder. She shivered under his touch.
“What do you mean?” Her voice was husky, her brain already losing in the fight between hormones and sense.
“This thing between us. It’s combustible. I’ve never experienced anything like it.” He stared at her for a moment as though reading her face, and then gave her a small smile. “Neither have you. I don’t want it to stop.”
No! Don’t stop! her body screamed at her. It wanted to rub against him like a cat in heat.
“I don’t do romance, relationships, marriage, togetherness—any of that stuff.” Oh, why didn’t she sound convinced?
“I’ll take whatever you’ll give me. I’ll take whatever I can get.” His voice, though soft, was steel, and she knew he wasn’t going to let this go—let her go. The crazy thing was that instead of making her want to run, his determination only made her want him more.
“You mean friends with benefits? Is that what you’re talking about?”
“If that’s what you want.” He inclined his head and placed a kiss on her neck at the curve of her shoulder.
Jodie felt her body melt.
“No strings?” She fought to get the words out.
“No strings,” he confirmed as he kissed his way up to her earlobe.
A little moan escaped. She wasn’t proud of the fact, but she couldn’t stop it. His skin was hot under her hands and his lips were driving her mad.
“So, we’ll just get together to, what? Have sex?”
“Whatever you want, Jodie.” His voice was pure seduction. Low and sensuous. It promised dark nights and endless pleasure. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
Her eyes closed as her body began to writhe against him. She wanted to give in to temptation. She wanted everything he promised. She wanted him. Even though her fear of getting entangled in another relationship was strong. Even though she knew she’d never survive another heartbreak. His was a teasing seduction that slipped past her common sense and dared her to indulge.
“No relationship.” Her surrender came in a rush of words. “No dating. We don’t tell anyone. It’s just between us. No expectations. No long-term planning. No public displays of affection. No soppy, romantic gestures. Either one of us can call a stop to things without the other questioning it. And when it stops we part on good terms.”
“Agreed.” The word was a rumble against her ear as his hands threaded into the hair at the back of her head.
She was dizzy from his touch. Desperate for more. The world was shifting beneath her, but she felt safe in the cocoon of his arms.
“This is a purely physical thing. Nothing more.” Yeah, that probably would have sounded more convincing if she wasn’t so breathless with need. “Are you sure you want to get into this knowing that?”
“I just want you, Jodie. Any way I can have you.” His words were a vow and then his mouth slammed against hers and Jodie’s brain conceded defeat to her body. In the back of her mind, that little Catholic voice was reminding her that every action came with a consequence, and she wouldn’t like it when the consequences of this decision caught up with her.
Like she’d done right through school, Jodie ignored the voice in her head.
Consequences be damned.