The Morning After The Wedding Before by Anne Oliver Read Free Book Online

Jake squatted beside her. ‘Emma?’ He reached for her elbows. ‘Are you okay?’
    Emma groaned, but not nearly as much from the pain shooting up her calf as from her spectacular fall from grace in front of
this
man. She felt Jake’s hands on her, his warm breath washing over her face, and closed her eyes. ‘Just let me die now.’
    She heard that rich caramel chuckle of his. He had both her shoes off before she could stop him. Gentle fingers probed her ankle, and a voice laced with calm concern and a hint of amusement said, ‘So this is what you girls get up to on hen nights. Ry and I were wondering.’
    She started to shuffle away from him but felt her leggings snag on the rough cement. She heard a strange sound, like Velcro parting, and stopped abruptly. ‘I’m okay,’ she said, gritting her teeth. Or she would be if she didn’t die of embarrassment first. ‘Now go away.’
    He moved around behind her, slid his hands beneath her arms and hauled her upright so that his body was in intimate contact with her back. His big, hot
masculine
body. Her practically naked back. And nothing but thin torn jersey between her bare bottom and his … pelvis. Liquid heat spurted into her cheeks, along her limbs and everywhere their bodies touched.
    ‘I told you I’m fine.’ She tried to shrug away from the intimate contact but he didn’t budge.
    ‘Test your weight on it,’ he ordered.
    Her ankle tweaked when she set it on the ground but she stifled a wince and said, ‘See? Fine.’
    ‘Yeah, I can see.’
    Ryan and the girls spilled out of the studio just as Jake swept her up into his arms. In an automatic reaction sheclutched at his shoulders, and for an instant of lunacy she wallowed in the strength and heat surrounding her.
    Being held against Jake’s chest and carried inside was like being lifted into the clouds. She gazed up at his square shadow-stubbled chin. And just above that were … those lips.
    Instant tension gripped her insides and refused to let go. Had she so quickly forgotten she’d kissed those lips? And
how?
That she’d flung herself at this man in an instant of heightened emotion was going to have to live with the reminder for the rest of her life? Or until after the wedding at least.
    ‘It’s going to be okay, Stella, don’t worry,’ she told her sister as Jake set her on the saggy old couch. Right now she was more concerned with that ripping sound she’d heard. ‘Pass me that sarong on the armchair, will you?’
    ‘Are you chilled?’ Stella said, her voice anxious. ‘Do you want a blanket or something?’
    ‘No—and stop hovering.’
    Stella pulled the sarong off the chair. ‘I’m not hovering.’
    ‘Are too.’ She grabbed the proffered garment. ‘Thank you.’
    ‘Um … Before I go, I should tell you that Karina … um …’ She exchanged a look with Jake, who shook his head.
    Emma darted a glance between the two of them. ‘What?’
    Stella let out a strangled sound behind her hand. ‘Never mind.’
    Squatting in front of Emma, Jake prodded her ankle and began issuing orders. ‘Get rid of the girls, Stella. And then you might like to kiss your fiancé goodnight and send him on his way.’
    Hearing their cue to leave in that no-nonsense masculine tone, the girls scuttled out with muffled giggles.
    Panic rose up Emma’s throat. ‘No, stay, Stell. Let Jake go.’ She glared at him, winding the sarong about her torso as high as possible under her arms. ‘I bet he has a million things to do.’
    He met Emma’s eyes full-on for a few seconds, then studied her foot again. ‘Some ice would be good here, Stella, before you go.’
    Seconds later Stella produced a pack of frozen peas from Emma’s fridge, handed it to Jake. ‘I feel responsible …’
    ‘Don’t,’ Emma said, tight-lipped. ‘If these guys hadn’t turned up everything would’ve been all right.’
    ‘So this guy’ll take care of it.’ Easing the improvised cold pack around Emma’s ankle, Jake waved her