Free Shimmerlight by Jill Myles Page B

least,‖ she told him with a wry smile. ―I‘ve seen some statues with rather unimpressive…bits.‖
    Her fingers lightly touched the legs of the statue, noticing the firm cords of muscle there, then moved down, admiring the veins and tendons perfectly carved into each long, narrow foot. Such detail was incredible. She moved to the back of the statue, examining him. Did he have any flaws? Not from this side , she thought with a sigh, noting the muscled indentions of his lower back and the tight, firm buttocks of the soldier. Impulsively, she grasped the buttocks with both hands, feeling the marble hills.
    ―Very firm,‖ she teased the statue. ―Well done.‖
    She gave his behind a little pat of approval and grinned to herself. They‘d think she was just as crazy as Muffin if they‘d found out that she‘d just manhandled a statue – and enjoyed herself. But there was no one to tell her no, and he was so very perfect. Being a widow’s getting to you, Chloe , they‘d say.
    Long past the time you should find a man.
    ―Let them think it,‖ she told the statue. ―I don‘t need anyone. It‘s a bit lonely, but I don‘t care.‖
    She tilted her head and smiled at the stone man, who stared into the distance. ―I need a lover like you –
    someone that can‘t demand a thing, won‘t require too much of me, and has buns of solid rock.‖ Then she looked at his helmet and sighed. ―Maybe not a soldier, though. I seem to have bad luck with those.‖
    She took the first photo of the statue, closing in on the finely detailed face. Sure enough, the picture was dark. She frowned and unhooked the camera from the tripod, bringing it over to her computer.
    Maybe she could manipulate the photo, make it a little brighter. She sat at the computer, tinkering with it for a few minutes. No deal. Maybe if she changed the angle of the light…it had this weird shimmer that was throwing off her photos. Excited to fix the problem, she jumped up and headed back toward the tripod—
    Her foot slipped on something thin and paper-like as she passed by the statue. Her high heels –
    something she was unused to – flew up and she crashed on the floor. Her head cracked against the base of the statue and the blow rang through her skull, making her entire head ache. Blackness blurred across her vision and the entire world seemed to swim in that strange, shimmering light. Her hand smacked against the foot of the statue, and then she was out cold.

Chapter Two
    Chloe‘s thoughts were foggy as she slowly came to again. Hands were brushing against her,
    warm and delicious, and she moaned, her head tilting, eyes still closed. It had been five years since someone had touched her, and she hadn‘t realized until this moment how much she‘d missed it, missed the warm feather of breath against her thighs, the heavy weight of a man over her, his hand up her skirt, exploring her body—
    Wait!
    Her eyes flew open and she stared in shock. A man crouched over her, his eyes an electric,
    intense blue in a heavily tanned face. His hair was black and short, curly. He looked to be about her age, maybe a bit older, his face rough and raw with masculine beauty. He was not a perfect, beautiful prince, but a rough, raw soldier who wore his scars on his face.
    Chloe gasped as her gaze landed on the scar that bisected his cheek. Just like the statue.
    He blinked at her, studying her body, and then his hand slid underneath her skirt to the heat of her pussy, touching it through the damp fabric of her panties.
    Chloe moaned at the touch. It had been so long since a man had touched her, and she immediately felt herself grow wet with need, her pulse pounding a heavy, staccato beat that seemed to center from her sex itself.
    The man shifted over her and she felt his bare leg against her own, and her gaze slid over his chest. Bare chest. He was totally naked. His body was bronzed, his muscles rippling and firm, not a hint of fat anywhere on him.
    He was the man from