Present Day
Riviera Bleu Benson stomped up the steps of the almost-completed multimillion dollar home. She jammed her master key into the lock and opened the door. What she really wanted to do was slam the huge, beautifully hand-hewn door as hard as she could, but she refrained. Marsha Sue Flannery, who Riviera indirectly worked for, had put her in a severely foul mood. Known as the interior designer to Beaver Creek’s rich and famous, Marsha Sue was a mean and spiteful bitch.
“You’re behind on all your homes. You’d better pick it up or else.”
“Or else what, Marsha Sue? Are you gonna fire me?”
“Ha ha. Very funny, Riviera. You know I can’t do that. I will, however, tell all my clients that they can’t move into their new homes because their painter is a slack-ass.”
“Marsha Sue, that’s a blatant lie and you know it.”
“Not the way I see it. So get off your slack ass and get to work.” Marsha Sue ended the call without giving Riviera a chance to respond.
Riviera wanted to scream. She worked like a dog and Marsha Sue damn well knew it. She huffed as she twisted her way through the massive house, eventually entering the room where she was creating her masterpiece, a ceiling trompe l’oeil. It created the illusion of a domed chamber with a three-dimensional clouded blue sky above it.
Reaching into her pocket for her iPod, she found nothing but an empty space. Damn! What else could go wrong today?
Examining her work, she prepared her paints and brushes when she thought she heard a voice calling her name.
“Riviera.” The voice was deep, soft, and husky.
It startled her. No one was supposed to be there. The house was empty, and not quite finished. The general contractor, Benjamin Shandon, or Shan as he preferred to be called, had some final touches to complete, but they wouldn’t be done until Riviera had finished all her painting. Perhaps she was imagining things.
Bending down to grab her supplies, her name reached her ears again. This time, she knew she wasn’t mistaken. It was a man’s sexy voice.
Who would be calling her and in that tone of voice? Did someone hear her come in and did they need her? She walked down the hall and looked into each room.
When she reached the fifth room, the door was half open. She stuck her head in. Initially stunned, she then became mesmerized at the vision before her. Quietly pushing the door open, she inched her way in.
Shan was stretched out on a rollaway bed, shirtless with his tight jeans open and unzipped. Riviera always thought him to be dark and appealing, but this stepped it up to an unprecedented level.
Thick, chocolate-brown hair that held a few lightened streaks from the summer sun fanned out across the pillow. Onyx lashes formed crescents against his tawny cheeks. Sculpted cheekbones rose high upon his face, creating slight hollows beneath them. But those lips, full Cupid’s bow lips, were slightly parted as his breath rushed in and out in short bursts.
Her eyes inched lower and she drank in his cut torso and abs that narrowed to a chiseled V. Riviera’s eyes wanted to linger but didn’t dare because something else, something primal, drew them farther down his spectacular anatomy.
In his gorgeous hand was an amazing erection, which he was stroking up and down, up and down. Riviera felt like she was looking at that proverbial train wreck, knowing she should get the heck out of there, but at the same time, she was incapable of wrenching her eyes off such a carnal image. Because of her troubled past, she’d never responded to a man’s body before, but the sight of him aroused her unlike anything she’d ever known. Flames spread across her, scorching every inch of her body. Her belly instantly tightened as the muscles of her sex clenched. Her nipples hardened into precious pearls and demanded to be sucked like something she’d only read about in her romance novels. Every cell, every molecule in her body squeezed and tensed as her blood heated and her pulse raced. She burned and ached with a need so strong, she wanted to slip her hand down the front of her jeans and rub herself to match the rhythm of the man she was so intently watching.
Her eyes inched back up to revisit the abs that rippled with his every breath. As she consumed the sight before her, she noticed his unoccupied arm was raised over his head, and on his triceps was a striking tattoo of fiery flames. While looking at his beautiful ink, she felt the heat of those very flames licking her scorched skin. Riviera had to fist her hands, for she wanted to reach over and brush her fingers and tongue across the etchings.
While she wondered what he would taste like, that very same arm drifted down, stopping to allow his hand to pinch his pebbled nipple. When he moaned, Riviera nearly whimpered at the sight and sound. His hand didn’t remain there for long—it had a different goal in mind. It landed between his legs, beneath his heaviness while the other hand increased its tempo. Riviera swallowed, but it was with great difficulty, as her throat thickened with desire.