Page 4 of Her Fantasy Husband

A case of mistaken identity perhaps? He could feel a frown forming between his eyes. This wasn’t going as planned, and he hated the unexpected. Casting the receptionist a last look, he shook his head, and strode toward the door.

He pushed it open and peered into the room. His gaze locked on a small redhead in jeans and a white T-shirt, who stood in front of a big, wooden desk. Her eyes were wide and filled with…horror? He took a step into the room and opened his mouth to explain who he was—just as she launched herself toward him.

“Josh!”

He didn’t have time to answer as she crashed into his chest. His bad leg almost gave out beneath him. He braced it, reached instinctively for the door for balance, but it slammed shut behind him, and the force of her momentum backed him up against the wood. Her fingers were clenched on his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his waist, and one of his hands automatically curled around her, holding her in place.

His cock stirred in his pants at her closeness, her smell, her hot breath—

Jesus.

He shook his head. Definitely not what he expected. She was staring into his face, and he had the strangest impression she was trying to tell him something. Her eyes were huge, and she had the longest, curliest lashes he had ever seen. He opened his mouth again as she lowered her head and kissed him.

His mind went blank, and his body came to instant alert, heat sizzling along his nerves.

Her lips were closed, and she was jamming her mouth hard against his. But she was soft and curved in all the right places, and it had been years since he’d had a woman in his arms.

Leaving one hand on her ass, holding her in place, he brought his other up to burrow in the soft curls at the base of her neck. She backed off slightly at his touch. He really needed to tell her who he was. Why he was here.

“Easy, honey. I’m—”

Her lips came down on his again, cutting off his words. Her breasts pressed against his chest, her legs tightened around him, rubbing against his cock so the blood drained from his veins, sinking to his groin. He groaned against her lips.

What the hell?

How long had it been? Too long, and his instincts took over, taking control of the kiss.

He turned her so she was pressed up against the door, his hardening erection nudging against her softness. She went still, raised her head. Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open, and he lowered his and thrust his tongue inside. She tasted sharp and spicy, with a hint of honeyed sweetness. She was still for a second, and then she was kissing him back, her tongue pushing against his, her hands fisting in the hair at his nape.

Not why I’m here.

A little voice nagged at his brain saying something was wrong with this scenario. But then she pressed even closer so her firm—and amazingly full—breasts flattened against him, and his dick got even harder, draining the last of the blood from his brain and shutting down the annoying nagging.

Unfortunately, it didn’t cut out the noise from behind him. He wanted to ignore it. His body liked where it was and what it was doing, and he didn’t want to stop. Then someone cleared their throat for a second time, and he went still. He removed his tongue from where it had no right to be—but hell,she’daccostedhim—and leaned away a little so he could look down into her face.

Encountering her dazed expression, he gave her a little jiggle. She shook her head. Her eyes were huge, wide open, and they darted from his face to beyond his left shoulder and filled with alarm. Her attention came back to him, and a look of desperation, then pleading, filled her face.

“Josh.” Her voice was low, breathy, and his dick twitched. “I’d like to introduce you to my grandmother.”

Grandmother?

He swallowed.

What the fuck?

His turn to shake his head. The morning had taken on a surreal quality. But at least his dick was wilting in his pants.

What the hell was I thinking?

He still had her pinned against the door, her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands at his shoulders. He tried to pull away, but her fingers tightened, and he had to tug them free before placing her on the floor. She gazed up at him pleadingly.

“Please.” She mouthed the word, presumably so her “grandmother” wouldn’t hear.

Obviously she wanted something from him. But what? He’d play along for now, if only as a thank-you for the hottest kiss he could ever remember. He gave a brief nod, and she sagged, then stiffened her spine and stood up straight.

When she’d hurled herself toward him, she’d appeared…bigger. She was actually more than a foot shorter than him in her bare feet. Bare feet? He shook his head again.

She had to tilt her head to look up at him. “Josh,” she said, her voice husky as though she’d just had the breath kissed out of her. “You’re back. I thought you’d be away much longer.”

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