Confessions Of A Bad Bridesmaid. Jennifer Rae

had to move. He’d hardened in an instant.

      ‘I was. I like to have fun.’

      She blinked at him and he moved even closer, letting his shoulder rest against hers. Just in case she fell. He heard her suck in a breath, and she looked down at his shoulder before lifting those big eyes to him. Her lips parted and he almost forgot where he was and, for a moment, who he was.

      Her hair was wild around her face and her eyes were glancing at his lips. His entire body went hard and he couldn’t move. He watched as she licked her full, bouncy lips. This woman was dangerous. One of those women who made you forget. But he couldn’t forget. He could never forget.

      He had to say something.

      ‘“The stroke of midnight ceases,”’ he recited. ‘“And I lie down alone. The rainy Pleiades wester, And seek beyond the sea, The head that I shall dream of, That will not dream of me.”’

      Edward felt Olivia’s eyes on him.

      ‘What was that? A poem? You recite poetry?’ She laughed at him and looked away. ‘For someone who is not a romantic that sounded suspiciously romantic, Eddie.’

      ‘That’s not romantic. It’s extremely unromantic. The man in that poem is dreaming of a woman who isn’t dreaming of him. That’s not romantic. It’s foolish.’

      And you’re being foolish, he reminded himself as he dragged his eyes away from her plump lips. Kissing someone like Olivia would not help. Dragging a woman into his life was not something he could do. Especially not a fun-loving, free-spirited woman like Olivia. She’d hate it, and she’d resent him and they’d both end up unhappy. He moved away, put some distance between them so he could no longer feel the warmth of her skin or smell her cinnamon scent.

      ‘The man who wrote that is not foolish. He’s romantic. Wistful.’ Olivia sighed and looked back to the sky.

      Edward noticed she’d pulled his jacket closer.

      ‘Probably not a man. Probably a woman. Dreaming of finding someone she can never hope to find.’

      A rush of sympathy invaded his bones. She sounded so sad. So unlike the angry woman in the car or in the drawing room, threatening that she hadn’t ‘finished’ with him.

      ‘Then you fill your life with something else,’ he said softly.

      He could feel her pain. Olivia sounded confused. He suspected she didn’t know what she wanted. She needed someone strong. Someone to take care of her. Edward’s shoulders stiffened. Definitely not him. He caused pain; he didn’t relieve it. That realisation poured a stream of cold water over him.

      ‘You should strive for something that will give you back exactly what you put into it.’

      ‘Like what?’

      ‘Work. Exercise.’

      ‘You exercise?’

      ‘I run. Every day.’

      ‘Me too.’

      That magnetic smile lit her face again and it hit him in the chest. Then her face fell.

      ‘I hate it, though. It gives me too much time to think. And it hurts.’

      ‘So why do you do it?’

      She faced him and ran her hand seductively from her breasts to her thigh. It sent a shiver straight through him and he stood to attention again. Her garish purple dress peeked through his jacket and the flashes of the skin on her chest and her legs were making him sweat, even as the night chill wound around him.

      ‘This body don’t come cheap. I’ll let you in on a secret, Eddie. I’m not a natural beauty. Any appeal I have comes from hard work and a daily pounding of the pavement.’

      Edward thought that none of her appeal came from pounding the pavement. She had a killer body, that was true. But she also had a set of full, pouty lips, a beautiful smile and an innate consciousness of her own femininity. The woman was sexy. Damn sexy. And she knew it.

      ‘If that body is so hard to get why do you expose it in cheap stuff like that thing you call a dress? If that body were mine I’d have it covered from nose to ankle so no one could lay his perving eyes on you.’

      Olivia blinked.

      ‘You would?’

      He nodded and moved closer to her. As if she were a magnet and he couldn’t resist. Her small body was warm, and even though he wasn’t touching her he could feel the heat emanating from her.

      ‘If you were mine, Olivia, I’d barely let you out of the bedroom, where clothes don’t matter.’

      The silence that lay between them wasn’t awkward. And it wasn’t silent. He could see her thinking. He was sure she could see him thinking. Wanting to do something he shouldn’t. Wishing it was he who’d had those glasses of champagne. Maybe then he wouldn’t think so much.

      Olivia swayed and grabbed the wall for support, knocking the glass of water off in the process. It smashed noisily on the paving. He moved quickly to hold her around the waist. When she fell against him her breasts were soft against his chest. Then she moved even closer, snuggling in, making his chest expand and his arms hold her even tighter. Her blue eyes swivelled up to him and he saw the question in them. The air was thick and heavy and so was her need. He answered it automatically by pulling her in even closer.

      ‘You feel nice,’ she murmured as she snuggled in, and let out a little mew.

      For some reason that turned him on even more. Her soft hair tickled his chin. He leaned down a little to bury his nose in it and breathe her in. But he wasn’t here for this. He hadn’t come here this weekend to fondle innocent women on the terrace.

      ‘Olivia, are you all right?’

      ‘I am now,’ she murmured, pulling herself closer.

      Damn, that wasn’t what he’d wanted her to do. Holding her close to him felt good. Too good. And he didn’t deserve good. Not when his brother needed his support and his mother needed his explanations and his father needed help to calm down. Being out here with Olivia was a selfish indulgence. He tried to push her away but she held tight, and she was so close and so responsive she just snuggled back in. This was getting out of hand.

      ‘Olivia, you’re too...’

      The word intoxicating embedded itself into his mind as her scent circled around his face. She was intoxicating. She lifted her head and her eyes darkened. He knew the look on her face. Pure desire. He was sure she could see the same look on his face.

      ‘Too what?’

      She licked her bottom lip and his mind went blank. All thoughts of guilt disappeared and something more animal took over. Slowly, he brought his hand around to trace a finger along the edge of her chin. He wanted to touch her lips. Just once. Then he’d stop. All her lipstick had come off. Her lips were bare and delicious. He moved a single finger up to trace them and she stood still. Her breath warmed his finger. With his thumb, he swept a line past her open lips and she responded by poking her pink tongue out. It caught his thumb and he’d never felt anything more erotic.

      ‘Too much,’ he whispered as she sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth.

      Every thought fled his mind except that of her scent and the feel of her body and the sight of those plump lips in between her teeth. His erection was now so hard it hurt. With his hand on the small of her back he pressed her to him, wanting her to feel how much he wanted her.

      ‘Too intoxicating,’ he said as he looked into her eyes, which were now bright blue and hooded.

      He squeezed his finger and thumb under her chin and pushed it up a little. Closer to him. Olivia wasn’t looking for anything serious. She just wanted comfort. Comfort he could give. Comfort wouldn’t last past the weekend. He was able to do that.

      Thankfully, she moved her chin up higher, until finally he felt the warmth