Chapter One
Meredith Kincaid pulled her little car into a parking space in front of Chocolates and Gems and leaned back in the seat. Only in Bradley Corners could you find a combination candy store and jewelry shop. Maybe she’d find something to lift her spirits, which at the moment were below the bottom of the ocean.
She was still coming to terms with the fact that she was in Maine in October, at her grandmother’s bed-and-breakfast. Instead of basking in the Caribbean sun on her honeymoon. But finding one’s fiancé in bed with not one but two women tended to put a crimp on one’s wedding plans. Torn between rage and humiliation, she’d dumped the mess on her parents’ head, thrown the handiest things she could grab into a suitcase and taken off.
“Things are slow this time of year,” Gram told her. “You’ll have plenty of space. I only have one guest. A man.”
“Well, keep him away from me,” Meredith spat. “I don’t have much use for men right now.”
Gram chuckled. “I don’t think he’ll be bothering you. It’s J.C. Reilly, the writer. He always comes up here to finish his books. Says he likes the solitude.”
Meredith snorted. “At least we have that in common.”
She spent her days huddled on the couch in the glassed-in sun porch pretending to read, or sitting in the window seat in her bedroom, staring at the ocean and wondering what it was she lacked that a man discarded her so easily.
But today Gram had lectured her before leaving for the afternoon. “Get off that lounge,” she’d ordered. “It’s too comfortable. Get out of the house. Get some fresh air, for heaven’s sake. It’s warm for this time of year. Take advantage of it.”
So here she was, about to gorge herself on the rich fudge the place was famous for, hoping the indulgence would ease the pain.
Surprisingly the store was crowded. Late season tourists, she guessed. As she waited for the fudge line to go down, she casually glanced into the jewelry case she was standing next to. Many of the pieces were made by local artists. Her eyes stopped suddenly at a pendant nestled on white velvet. A tiny pine tree set with emeralds on a gold filigree chain.
“That looks like it belongs on you.” The voice was deep and warm like honey.
Meredith turned her head and found herself pressed full length against the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. Dark hair brushed the collar of his shirt and thick lashes framed whiskey-colored eyes. His tanned face, more rugged than handsome, had deep grooves etched into the sharp planes and a sharp scent drifted past her nose. Pulses throbbed instantly in her breasts and her cunt.
“Oh!” Her breath felt trapped in her lungs. “Thank you.”
She tried to move slightly away but his body enveloped her, keeping her in place. She knew she should feel threatened but instead she only felt turned on. The heat from his body was like a cloud of air around her and she could feel the thickness of his cock just touching her buttocks.
He must have gestured to a sales clerk, because in a moment the case was unlocked and the pendant lay displayed in its glory on the counter.
“Allow me.” He lifted it with long, slender fingers and fastened it around her neck.
As his hands fell away they brushed across her breasts, so briefly she wondered if in fact she’d imagined it. His fingertips lifted her chin and moved her head so she was looking into the mirror on the counter. The pendant glowed as if it was alive.
“I knew it,” he said, his hands resting on her shoulders. “It matches your eyes perfectly.” He bent his head so his lips were almost touching her ear. “Do you know in ancient times emeralds were coveted for their magical powers? They were believed to heighten sexual desire in women.”
Liquid dampened her panties and her nipples tightened. What was she doing here with this stranger, his voice
Angela B. Macala-Guajardo