Midnight Muse Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Midnight Muse

  R.W. Shannon

  www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

  Midnight Muse

  R.W. Shannon

  Copyright © 2011 by RW Shannon

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright.

  This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  Published by

  Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC

  PO Box 61

  Colfax, NC 27235

  www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

  Cover Art: Marteeka Karland http://www.marteekakarland.com/

  Editor: Stephanie Parent

  Proofreader: Cindy Davis, http://www.fiction-doctor.com/

  Formatter: Savannah J. Frierson http://sjfbooks.com/editing/

  E-book Conversion: Jim & Zetta

  http://www.jimandzetta.com/

  ISBN: (e-book) 978-1-61788-066-7

  ISBN (print) 978-1-61788-162-6

  To Jayha. Thank you for having my back.

  —R.W. Shannon

  Note about eBooks

  eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving away eBooks is a copyright infringement. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author or Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

  Caveat

  This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.

  Chapter One

  Butterflies swirled in Grace Bowers’ stomach as the taxi screeched to a halt in front of the small cottage. For the next week, she’d be staying at this cabin, that she’d found through a travel agent back in the States, to finish her third romance novel. She couldn’t believe that she was in Rhodes, Greece and had to pinch herself to make sure this wasn’t a dream. The nineteen-hour plane ride, followed by the four-hour ferry ride from Athens to Rhodes, should’ve worn her out, but it hadn’t. It had taken two years of saving for her to get here, and she wouldn’t let anything spoil it.

  Time constraints prevented her from learning any Greek phrases before she left the States. She was thankful that everyone she encountered so far knew English. The driver held the door open for Grace as she climbed out and stared at the tiny, one-story home. A red clay roof sat atop white stucco walls. Patches of yellow daffodils framed the small front lawn. Though the house looked smaller than it did in the pictures, it would be fine. All she’d be doing was working, maybe sneaking in a sightseeing tour here and there.

  “Where do you want these?” the driver asked.

  The owner of the cottage was supposed to meet her there to hand over the keys. She saw a white car parked next to the house. He must be inside, she thought.

  “Just set them by the front door,” she said.

  Besides her laptop and purse, Grace had only brought two additional suitcases—one full, one empty. She’d promised her mother she would return with lots of souvenirs for her family and friends. From the pocket of her jeans, Grace pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to the driver. Then she began to worry. Was it too much? Too little? He smiled and nodded in gratitude. Turning from him, she knocked on the front door, but nobody answered.

  “Should I stay in case you need to go to hotel?” he asked in broken English.

  “No. I’ll be fine.”

  It was still early afternoon, and there was plenty of sunshine. The driver nodded before climbing back into the white taxi and driving off. Grace sighed. The phone number for the owner was on her Smartphone. As she peered through the window, she pulled out her phone and flipped through her contacts until she found the number. She pressed the call button, and “Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones filled the air. It took Grace a moment to realize that the sound was coming from inside the house.

  “Hello,” a man answered. The music stopped when he did. His voice was full bodied, and she tried to imagine what he looked like.

  “I’m Grace. I’m supposed to meet you to pick up the keys for the cottage. I’m here.”

  Grace frowned as the sound of a toilet flushing was broadcast over the phone. She wrinkled her nose as she heard the man zip up his pants and turn on the faucet. At least he washed his hands. She pictured him to be short with a lot of hair. Though his baritone voice and Greek accent was sexy and sent a shiver down her spine, the picture of a troll came to mind. She giggled.

  “Okay,” the man said curtly before hanging up.

  Grace glanced from her phone to the door. What kind of asshole had she rented this place from? She imagined trash to be everywhere inside and shuddered. Turning from the door, she looked out over the landscape. A two-lane road stretched in front of the house, while miles of olive groves extended on the other side. No other houses stood around this one. Suddenly, she heard the door opening behind her.

  “You’re late,” the man said.

  Grace closed her eyes to calm herself down and to prevent an international incident. Though she should turn around and address him face to face, she wasn’t ready to tear her eyes away from the spectacular view of the landscape. Plus, if he was going to be so rude, so was she. “The plane was delayed.”

  “You have a phone. Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Obviously, you were fine, since you used my bathroom.”

  “It is my bathroom.”

  “Whatever, just give me the damn keys.”

  “Check first, mia bella.”

  Pressing her lips together, Grace tried to stop herself from cursing him out. Why was she explaining herself to this jerk-off? And what did he just call her? She took a few deep breaths before opening her eyes and turning around. Damn. He looked nothing like she had pictured. This man was six foot three inches tall with a solid athletic frame. Steel blue eyes were set within his olive complexion beneath a head of dark curls. He wore a red-and-white plaid work shirt, jeans and boots. Exhaling slowly, Grace opened her mouth to apologize.

  “Check,” he repeated as his gaze sweep over her.

  She closed her mouth and then opened it to ask, “Is this your cottage?”

  “It belongs to my family. My aunt lived here before she died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Shrugging, he cleared the threshold and stood in front of her. The heat from his body drifted over her like the salt-scented breeze. Grace licked her lips. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the envelope that held the check and pressed it into his chest. He snatched the envelope from her and ripped it open to make sure it was right.

  “Come,” he said as he stuffed the envelope into the pocket of
his jeans. “I show you around.”

  Grace waited for him to pick up her suitcases, but he ignored them. Fuming, she rolled the pink leopard-print cases into the house and closed the door behind her. The home’s musky scent greeted her as she unstrapped her messenger bag from her torso. As she sat it on a nearby chair, she looked around. To her left was a stone fireplace. A worn, tan sofa and chair sat in front of it. Behind the small living area was a dining room set, while the kitchen was on her right. Across from her was a wall lined with windows, a door that led to the bathroom, and a balcony.

  “What’s your name?” she asked him. The real-estate agent had given her his last name, Vicenti, but not his first.

  “Evander Vicenti,” he said without turning around. Evander walked to the kitchen.

  His name rolled off his tongue like a drop of wine, and Grace briefly imagined what else he could do with his tongue. She shook the fantasy from her head. Despite his obvious handsomeness, he seemed like an ass and was completely not her type.

  “My parents brought you food,” Evander said as he opened the refrigerator and quickly closed it.

  “That’s so sweet,” Grace gushed.

  Without looking at her, he brushed past her on his way to the front door. She placed her hands on her hips. “I thought you were going to show me around?” she asked.

  “I did. Everything else, you can figure out.”

  In a flash, Evander was gone. Grace stood in the middle of the tiny living area. Don’t let him ruin your experience. Inhaling, she squared her shoulders and wheeled the suitcases to the bedroom to unpack. The bedroom was small. The only furnishings were a bed and a dresser. Sunlight streamed through the two windows on either side of the bed. As she placed her clothes into the drawers of the tiny wooden dresser, she realized Evander hadn’t given her the keys to the cottage. Rushing back into the living area, she grabbed her phone off of the kitchen counter and dialed his number. Only five minutes had passed since he’d left. He couldn’t have gotten that far away.

  Evander’s telltale ringtone filled the small living room. Grace went to the front door and opened it. He was standing on the other side, leaning against the door frame. She hung up her phone.

  “I was wondering how long it would take you.” He dangled the keys in front of her eyes.

  “Why didn’t you just come back inside?”

  “What would be the fun in that?” he teased.

  Grace reached for the keys, but he snatched them out of her grasp. Fuming, she stomped on his foot. Evander yelped in pain and handed the keys to her. With a smirk, she took them and slammed the door in his face. Her heart pounded in her chest as she set the keys on the counter with her phone and went back to unpacking.

  Chapter Two

  The next day, Grace was hard at work. Rugged cowboy Chaz was just about to make love to Lisa, the repressed pastor’s daughter, for the first time. Her fingers flew across the laptop as she typed…

  Lisa’s heart pounded against her breastbone as Chaz’s hazel eyes bore into hers. Never had she felt such intensity from a mere glance. But his wasn’t just a glance; it was as if he were trying to stare into her soul and capture her heart. Her breath stilled within her as he stroked her cheek with his index finger.

  “We’ll have to do something about that,” Chaz whispered before his lips found hers…

  Suddenly her thoughts came to a screeching halt. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but nothing came out. For the next hour, she stayed in the same position, waiting for her muse to return, but it didn’t. At this rate, she was never going to get the book done. Cursing, she saved what she was working on and glanced at the clock. It was close to midnight.

  Grace stood and stretched before picking up her glass of wine and heading for the balcony. She scanned the cloudy, dark horizon of the countryside landscape, marveling that she was in Rhodes. As she looked toward the amazing view of the harbor, she imagined the giant statue of Colossus, once one of the Seven Wonders of the World, towering over the pier to welcome, or ward away, visitors to the island. Now, twin statues of lions took over those duties, but it wasn’t the same.

  The only thing missing was someone to share this with. Maybe one day. At twenty-eight, she had given up on finding the perfect mate and tried to be content with just writing about him in her books. It was highly possible that her Greek god didn’t exist, but she had hoped the universe would bless her with one. Taking a chance, she closed her eyes and wished for her good man to finally show up on her doorstep.

  Grace sighed. She was stuck, she realized. Not just with her book, but also in her personal life. Her heart was still back in that broken relationship that ended over a year ago when she found out he was married. By the time she’d learned the truth, she was already head over heels for him.

  The long-distance relationship, she in Sterling and he in Atlanta, made it easy for him to hide his family—until his wife called one Sunday afternoon. When she confronted him later, he said he wasn’t leaving his wife or three children. She ended it without further contact.

  Closing her eyes, Grace tried to erase that memory from her mind. It was time for her to move on. She just needed a little motivation. Evander’s face popped into her mind, but she blinked away the image. That’s not why she was here. In the back of her mind, she had dreamt of moving to a place like this, but that wasn’t practical. The air had become heavy, and the rain began to pour down. Grace quickly went back inside and closed the double doors to the balcony behind her. Maybe a bubble bath would help jumpstart her imagination. As she made her way to the bathroom, a knock sounded at the door, and she paused. Who could that be?

  When the knock sounded again, more urgent this time, she moved to the door and peeked out the distorted glass. Evander? Her heart fluttered as she reached for the knob and opened the door. His dark wet curls were plastered to his head. Raindrops dripped from his eyelashes as he hunched over. A shiver flowed down her spine as a strange feeling of desire washed over her, but she shook it off.

  “My car broke down,” he said. “Can I use your phone?”

  “Where’s yours?”

  “I can’t get any service. The storms knock it out sometimes.”

  Grace watched him, unsure if she wanted to let him in, even if it was an emergency. His black T-shirt was stuck to his torso and contoured every muscle of his chest and abdomen. He again wore jeans, but tonight they were black. When he trembled against the cold air, so did she. As her gaze flowed back up his torso, she noticed his nipples poked against the fabric of his T-shirt—and, when she glanced down, so did hers.

  “Do you want me to beg?” he asked.

  “That’s a start.”

  Huffing, Evander turned from the door. She let him walk ten paces away before she called him back. “Come on, man. I’m not that cruel,” Grace yelled.

  Evander turned back around and walked toward her. He smirked as he slid past her into the house. Grace walked to the dining room table that had become her command center, and picked up her cell phone. The house didn’t have a phone and, before she left America, she had sprung for international minutes so she could make the required once daily phone call to her mother. She held it out for him to take—their fingers touched. His were moist from the rain. Black dirt was caked around a few of them, probably from fiddling with his engine.

  “Thanks,” he grumbled.

  Leaving him to his phone call, she went into the bathroom and closed the door. Grace leaned against it for a moment before going to the sink and looking at herself in the mirror. Her dark curls looked decent for a change, and her coffee-colored eyes didn’t give away the fact that she had been awake for the last twenty-four hours straight. Nor did her mocha-hued skin. She rinsed her mouth out with mouthwash. Smoothing her navy tank top over her torso, she sniffed under her arms. She caught herself reaching for the deodorant, and stopped. What was she doing? Why was she primping for this guy, considering how rude he was yesterday?

  With an exhale, she opened
the door and stepped into the living room. Evander was still on the phone. As he paced in front of the window, he spoke in Greek to the person on the other side. Whoever he was talking to seemed to make him speak in short sentences and rake his hand through his hair, but then, he always seemed that way—or at least he did the two times she’d met him. At a break in the conversation, he glanced at Grace. She didn’t know him well enough to read the expression in his eyes, but it caused her breath to catch in her throat. Moving to the refrigerator, she pulled out a bottle of water. She wasn’t thirsty, but needed to stop her hands from shaking.

  When she turned around, he was still watching her. This time she recognized the look in his eyes as desire and quickly set the bottle on the counter before she dropped it. Evander switched to Italian as he spoke to the person on the other end. Grace wondered how many languages he could teach her to say “fuck me” in. Walking toward her, he abruptly hung up the phone and gave it back to her. Her hands trembled as she took it from him and put it on the counter.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “No problem. Is your ride coming?”

  He shook his head. “He’s stuck in Lindos because of the storm. The road is washed out.”

  “Oh.”

  “Taxi won’t come this late.” He huffed as he swiped his wet dark hair from his eyes. “The airport doesn’t open until eight a.m., and the ferry to the mainland doesn’t run until six a.m.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I guess I’ll stay in the car,” he said with a shrug. His gaze raked her from head to toe. “Unless you have other ideas.”

  Grace crossed her arms over her chest and replied, “Considering how rude you were to me, I don’t think so.”

  “That wasn’t rudeness, mia bella.”