When a demonic attack leaves one child without a mother, Marie Durrant throws out her predictable lifestyle to become the little girl's nanny.
It’s a big enough step for the virtual shut in, but even more difficult when Marie becomes inexplicably attracted to the mysterious widowed father, who happens to be the most powerful muse west of Mt. Olympus.
Quenton Blake is an extra hunky, extra irritated immortal, cursed to seek out those desperate for inspiration and feed on their souls.There wasn’t anything wrong with saving Marie’s soul for dessert, but his sweet tooth has a way of overriding his good judgement.
The dim glow from the study bounced off the mirrors and the stainless steel stripper pole in the corner. Just enough light to navigate the furniture without bumping into anything. The air grew thick and humid inside with the spicy tang of sex and cheap perfume.
Like one giant trophy case, it boasted countless odd shaped, metallic objects littering the floor and table tops, some of them still in their boxes. Sex toys, the thought occurred to her, as her eye caught a thin metal chain glinting in the mirror’s reflection.
She wrapped her arms around herself, not willing to touch what she couldn’t readily identify. Or anything she could, for that matter.
The plum silk bedding looked rumpled and pulled free on one side. It cascaded over the foot of the bed, partially melting over a large black chest. She knelt down, and after brushing the sheets away, tried to lift the lid.
If Tobin was bold enough to store his toys in the open, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he hid under lock and key. She scanned the rest of the room but her surroundings were too dark to identify with much clarity. Maybe she could get back in here during the daylight and find a key to the chest.
She got to her feet and tried to pick her way out of the room. When she stepped on a ten-inch cylindrical object, it rolled. Her feet went out from under her, and her butt hit the floor with a bone-jarring thud.
The silver object rolled across the hardwood floor emitting a low buzzing noise until it tinged against the metal stripper pole at the far end of the room.
The guy’s got a flair for matching his accessories I’ll give him that much. She scrambled after the vibrator, put both hands around the beveled shaft, and fumbled for the switch to shut it off.
She gritted her teeth, running her hands along the device until she found what appeared to be the switch. Hopefully it wasn’t the “go faster” button.
She flipped it and the buzzing died off, then she flung it toward the bed and scrubbed her palms over her jeans.
She wanted to race back to her room but chickening out wasn’t an option. With the commotion, she’d get caught. And if she was already screwed, she wasn’t going to face Quenton’s wrath for nothing. She made a hasty pass into the second room where she found identical furniture and a neatly made bed. It was missing the chest and mirrors, making it seem smaller without all the reflections, more casual, and Quenton’s familiar scent lingered in the air around her.
Heat threaded through her veins at the thought of being in his room, knowing at any moment he could return to find her. Her impish thoughts cheered her on. Fueled by flames of excitement, they dance around in her mind as if coaxing him to materialize out of thin air.
She ran her shaking fingertips along the surface of his nightstand until she came in contact with the worn edge of a leather-bound book.
Good enough for now, she thought and tucked it under her arm.
Nearly home free.
She spun to the door but her breath caught in a gasp. Quenton’s massive silhouette slipped in front of her, and Marie braced herself against the doorjamb to keep from running into him.
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