by Andrews, Amy
Edwina tightened the tie around her mid-thigh length satiny robe. She was naked underneath and her hair was wet from the shower. She should get dressed. She should tell him to go away. But she knew she was going to open the door for him, if for no other reason than to lay down some ground rules.
Her hand shook and her heart skipped a beat as she twisted the knob to reveal him, all tall and lean and hungry, his gaze instantly eating her up, roaming over her face and her neck and all the way down the gown, lingering on the way it clung to her breasts and at the precise spot the hem brushed her thighs.
Edwina felt like he’d pulled on the tie and licked her all over. The air was suddenly so laden with sex she could barely breathe. Not even the distant noises of frivolity coming from the massive pre-event BBQ near the old shearer’s quarters broke the heat of the moment.
“Jesus Christ Ed…” he growled. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Edwina swallowed, gripping the door handle as the growl infected her legs with a sudden urge to collapse. “I’m about to get into bed, Jus, what do you want?”
“Why weren’t you at the BBQ with everyone else?”
“I have a headache and it’s a long day tomorrow.”
Plus she had a fire between her legs that was raging out of control and he was a big dose of accelerant.
“Can I come in?”
Edwina shook her head. “No.” Was he nuts? She was a wispy scrap of satin away from being naked and Justin… in his jeans and t-shirt looking at her with sex in his eyes… didn’t have enough clothes on to save him from her clutches should he cross her threshold.
Nowhere near enough.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”
His gaze dropped to where her gown criss-crossed her breasts and lingered there for long moments. “I’ve missed you,” he said when he finally raised his eyes.
“I’ve missed you too, Jus.”
He nodded. “I came to say—” he stopped, looked around into the pitch black of a bush night, distant laughter and cicadas filling the warm, January air. He turned back to her. “You really want me to say this on your doorstep?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I think you’re less likely to try and get me naked with you standing outside.”
His eyes took another tour of her gown coming to rest on the knot at her waist. “I wouldn’t take that to the bank.”
“And what would happen if you did come in, Jus?”
He raised his eyes from the tie. “That robe would hit the ground for sure.”
“Exactly. So say what you came to say, then leave.”
He sighed running a hand through the longer hair on top of his head and Edwina’s hand itched to do the same. He’d always worn his hair a bit on the longer side but she knew from industry gossip that he’d just finished filming a military movie – his third in two years – in LA, hence the short back and sides.
“I came to say that I think five days all alone in a car with you will be a challenge I’m not up to.”
He looked at her hard, his blue eyes burning bright with a sudden seriousness, his gaze captivating.
“I’ve wanted you for four years, Ed. Since the day I first lay eyes on you. And I knew I couldn’t have you, and that was frustrating, but your wedding vows meant as much to me as they did to you. Except you’re not wearing a ring anymore, and I doubt very much whether I can pretend to be the perfect gentleman around you, when all I’m going to want to do is drag you over the back seat and thoroughly debauch you.”
Edwina swallowed as multiple visons of how he could thoroughly debauch her on those white leather seats competed for space inside her brain.
“So, this is just a heads up. I’m done with being the gentleman, Ed. That’s what I came to tell you. If you don’t want that, you’d better say now.”
Edwina was grateful for the doorknob to hold on to as every muscle group south of her belly button turned to putty. She didn’t remember him being so plain spoken about his desire. Not that he really could have been when she was married to Dale.
She blinked a few times to clear the heady fog of temptation that was threatening to derail her common sense. “Jus…”
“Don’t you think it’s our time, Ed?”
“No,” she said clearing her throat. “Not yet.”
He shook his head at her. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
“What do you want me to say? That I want you to debauch me in your back seat as frequently and as disgustingly as you like? Because I do. That I don’t want you to behave like a gentleman? Because I’m done with you being the gentleman, too. But can we please not do this… whatever it is … under the ever watchful eye of what seems like half the Australian consolidated press? They’re probably out there now hiding in the bushes somewhere with a camera trained on us.”
He took a step forward. “So let me come in.”
“No.” Edwina’s pulse leapt as she put a hand against his chest to prevent him crowding her back. He stopped but she could feel the resistance in his chest as he refused to back away from the ground he’d taken. He’d brought the bush with him – eucalyptus and wood smoke – and it took all her willpower not to bury her nose in his t-shirt and sniff him all over.
Dear god. She was so close to the edge; to throwing all caution to the wind, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t relent altogether, if he pushed even a little.
“I don’t mind playing it up for the cameras,” she said, desperate now to keep him at bay. “It’ll be good for the cause and give the fans something to talk about. They can catch all that phoney crap with their telephoto lenses, but I don’t want them catching anything real between us. I don’t want to wake to a tabloid shot of you and me going at it in the back seat of the Monaro. I want to keep that for us and out of the scrutiny of the media for as long as possible. There’s too much press around here for my liking.”
Edwina felt the resistance against her hand ease a little as Justin rocked back on his heels. The tension in her shoulders and traps eased correspondingly. “Can we please just,” she said, her hand twisting in the fabric of his t-shirt, “get through the rally first and talk about… us… after?”
The resistance returned and Justin’s eyes burned bright, and for a moment Edwina thought he was going to push his luck anyway, and she panicked slightly, knowing if he so much as lowered his head to hers she was going to jump him for sure.
But he changed his mind at the last minute and stepped back altogether.
“Fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair again. “But after this is over, you and I are going to go somewhere where no one knows us and you better expect to be thoroughly debauched because I’m not letting you out of bed for a very long time.”
Edwina’s belly twisted hard, desire flowing thick and sludgy through her veins. “And I’m going to hold you to it.”
Day One
‡
It was another hot summer day the following morning when a procession of cars drove out of the Barcoo Creek Bush Resort for the first leg of the car rally. It was a colourful sight, with beautifully restored classic cars mixing it up with sturdy, muddy, four-wheel drives, grungy rally cars, and comically decorated, clapped-out oldies that didn’t look like they were going to make it outside the property boundaries before refusing to go any further.
One, an old panel van, had a huge fibreglass replica of a twin engine RFDS plane on its roof and The Flying Sandman splashed down the side in garish neon, hot-pink paint.
The staid newness of press vehicles was easy to spot amongst the pack.
Twenty-six cars were participating in all and there was anything from two to eight people per vehicle. Pretty much the entire channel five network, including the CEO, were on the road this week. From the Rise and Shine morning show crew to reality TV stars. From soap actors to doco presenters. From kid show hosts to the evening news team.
In fact, if someone wanted to drop a bomb o
n Barcoo station right now they’d pretty much knock out all channel five’s talent in one fell swoop. And it wouldn’t be a bad strategy for a competitor to employ – channel five was riding high at the moment and had been for the last few years.
Justin was pleased to be underway but hung back from the car in front and not just because it was a press vehicle. The dust being kicked up on the dry, dirt road shrouded everything obscuring his vision.
“How long are we on dirt for?” he asked, indicating the map sitting on Ed’s lap.
It was the first words they’d spoken to each other this morning, apart from a polite hello and the completely fake conversation they’d had with the Rise and Shine crew about the rally whilst dodging questions about their reunion.
She didn’t bother to consult the map. “Eight kilometres. Weren’t you listening to the briefing?”
Justin shook his head. He’d fiddled impatiently throughout the hour-long briefing this morning, and hadn’t taken much of it in. All he knew was Canberra was their destination and something about it not being a race, not being about who crossed the line first, but the journey and spreading the channel five love. Raising money and awareness for the RFDS. Stopping along the way to chat to locals. And each day ending in a free public event where people could mingle with the stars, etc.
None of the rest had really registered. Not when he’d been standing next to Ed, looking all fresh and sexy, her blonde hair swinging in a high ponytail, the slope of her neck exposed and smelling all spicy and exotic, like she’d just popped out of a bottle.
Then he’d started thinking about her mouth telling him his wish was her command and everything had gone a little hazy after that.
On the whole, he’d just wanted to get the damn show on the road. Was he looking forward to the torture of sitting next to Ed in another pair of cute Capris – tight ones this time in a blue and white check – hell no. But the sooner they started, the sooner it was over, the sooner he got her to himself.
If they didn’t consummate the crazy passion that flared between them soon, they were both going to end up crippled by it. It wasn’t natural to walk around with this much pent up lust. Surely, it had to be bad for the health?
It sure as shit was bad for the concentration.
He reached for the air-con and cranked it up another notch, thanking god for the wisdom of retro-fitting a good system. Thanking god also for the bucket seats. A bench seat would have been a disaster to his already stretched self-control, with those blue and white checks taunting him.
Justin waited until they hit the bitumen before he spoke again. Ed clearly wasn’t keen to initiate any conversation, apparently content to look out her window and watch the world go by through her cute little, horn-rimmed, retro sunnies.
And it was beautiful in that typical Australian high country way. Acres of crackling dry bushland. Mighty gum trees, rocky scrub, and ragged grey-blue peaks plunging to deep gorges all around them. At another time, Justin probably would have appreciated it a lot more.
But his mind was on other things.
“Did you get my flowers?”
She stirred from her position and turned to face him, pulling her sunglasses off, her exotic blue eyes regarding him quietly. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”
There was no warm smile or wistful look in her eyes for the humongous bunch of lilies and orchids he’d spent an hour on line choosing and had had delivered direct to the hospital. In fact he caught a definite coolness there just before she turned back to the window and slid her sunnies on.
He wished he could pretend he didn’t know where it was coming from but he wasn’t that obtuse. “I couldn’t come, Ed. I had to stay away.”
“I know,” she said nodding at the window.
The calmness in her voice was deceptive. The calmness in her voice told him she didn’t know. She didn’t understand. She hadn’t understood. “I was in the middle of filming and you had all your friends and support systems around you. You had Dale, did you really need another man dancing attendance on you?”
He was conscious of her shoulders stiffening slightly in his peripheral vision. “Dale didn’t come.”
Justin glanced at her – at her profile – before looking back at the road. “What do you mean?”
She turned to him in that measured way again, removing her sunglasses. “He was in Singapore when it happened, signing some big international talent. He declined to leave.”
A hot spot that started in the centre of Justin’s gut bloomed exponentially with his blood pressure, until it sat like a blazing meteor embedded in his chest. He shook his head. “Are you telling me he didn’t fly straight home to be by your side?”
“It didn’t matter,” she shrugged. “He was right. I was in good hands, medically, and I had other support people.”
“You punctured your lung and ruptured your spleen. You were in intensive care for a week.”
Justin had felt sick when he’d heard the news about the car crash stunt that had gone horribly wrong. His first instinct had been to get himself on a plane to Australia, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sit at her hospital bed and not want to take charge.
He’d known Dale, his ex-agent, who he’d split with spectacularly after landing the role as Owen on Gift of Life, wouldn’t have appreciated it. And he’d left the country, gone to the other side of the world for fuck’s sake, to get away from having their marriage constantly shoved in his face. To let Edwina get on with being married, without the temptation of him. Of them. He’d done it for her as much as for him, because he hadn’t been sure he was going to be able to back off forever, and he hadn’t wanted to put her in that position.
But if he’d known Dale couldn’t be arsed to stand by his wife when she’d needed him most, then he would have flown home immediately. Via Singapore.
Punched that prick in the face first.
“He was home again by the time I was discharged.”
“Gee,” he said sarcastically. “That was big of him.”
Out the corner of his eye, Justin could see her running the flats of her palms up and down the length of her slender thighs as if she was nervous or the conversation made her uncomfortable.
“Well… I walked out a couple of months later so…”
“Because of that?”
“Because of a lot of things.” She paused, and Justin wondered if she was thinking about Dale’s affairs that were reasonably common knowledge in the industry. “But it was probably the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
“So…” he flicked a quick look at her. “You’re definitely not reconciling?”
She looked out her window. “No.”
“And the photo of you and him, looking all lovey-dovey at that Sydney restaurant?”
She turned her head to face him again. “Just a ploy he orchestrated to make it look like we were. He’s taken the divorce hard.”
“Boo hoo,” Justin snapped. “My heart bleeds for the poor bastard. He should have treated you better when he had you.”
Justin gripped the steering wheel hard, his mouth a grim line, thinking about all that time she’d wasted on Dale. When she could have been with him. He’d have never disrespected her.
“What the hell were you even doing, going out to dinner with him?” he demanded, the thought eating away at him.
She frowned at him clearly unimpressed by his line of questioning. “He’s still my agent, Jus.”
“What?” Justin had no clue what to say to that startling revelation. “Why?”
“Because he’s good. He’s a ruthless, blood-sucking bastard, but he’s my ruthless blood-sucking bastard. He’s on my side. And he’s done amazing things for my career. Hell, I wouldn’t have a career without him.”
Justin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She’d been both Dale’s cash cow and his mask of respect. His entrée into the hallowed world that he hadn’t been allowed into before he’d hooked up with Ed. Sure, through plain, amateur, dumb luck he’d gotten her n
oticed from her first shampoo commercial, but she’d risen rapidly through the ranks, all on her own talent, and had given him a respectability that no money could have bought.
Opened doors for him. Doors he’d thoroughly exploited.
“No, you’ve done amazing things for his career. You and your name opened doors for him that he’d never had access to before. You gave him a certain level of respect. You can’t buy that shit in this biz and you know it.”
“You wouldn’t have an international career without him either, Jus,” she said quietly, staring out the windscreen to the black bitumen shimmering ahead of them in the hot sun.
“Yep, that’s true.”
His role on Gift of Life had gained him a lot of attention in LA and it had been Dale who had convinced him to take the role of Dr. Owen Chandler – a hugely positive move for a career that had been lacklustre up until that point. Hell, after coming to the business late from an advertising background, he’d been about ready to give up.
And now he was red hot.
He just hadn’t been able to stomach Dale’s ethics.
“But sometimes you’ve got to move on, Ed.”
“What? No such thing as loyalty anymore?”
“I’d say divorce pretty much puts an end to that.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do it. I’ve taken so much from him. The divorce devastated him. I can’t take my career as well. Not when he’s managing it so well and has my best interests at heart.”
From what Justin had heard, it didn’t sound like Dale was lying in some corner licking his wounds over his wife’s desertion – quite the contrary. It took a huge amount of self-control to suppress the snort that rose in his nose and throat.
Dale Winslow had Dale Winslow’s best interests at heart.
Maybe Ed was suffering from some kind of unhealthy codependence on Dale that she couldn’t break through? She wouldn’t be the first woman who stayed with a man for all the wrong reasons, who’d been brainwashed into believing – into accepting – that they were better off with the devil they knew than the devil they didn’t.
