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Authors: Melinda Barron

Tags: #Contemporary Romance

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BOOK: Waking Sebastian
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Chapter Two

 

 

Mark’s fax machine hummed as Michelle punched in her agent’s number. She’d been trying all morning to get a signal on her laptop to send out her reworked pages, but had so far been unsuccessful. So it was time to resort to something she hadn’t used in quite a while: the fax machine.

A smile had been permanently etched on her face all morning. She grinned as she remembered Sebastian’s strong fingers, blue eyes and beautiful blond hair. So what if it was a fantasy. Sebastian had inspired some of the greatest writing she’d done in years.

She’d spent part of the morning designing a story around him, and he was quite the naughty little boy. Her body quivered at the memory of his fingers. A giggle escaped her lips as she imagined the look on Sandra’s face when she read the revisions. Her agent would probably salivate all over them. Hannah was still a virgin, but both she and Charles were very satisfied. And Hannah hadn’t run from the room screaming when she’d seen Charles’ cock. As he held Hannah in his arms afterward, he’d tipped an imaginary hat to Michelle, who had winked back.

The fax machine spit out a successful report, and Michelle gathered her pages and returned them to her room. Time to search for food. She’d written until one in the afternoon, then took a little catnap. Now she was starving.

The house was huge and her bare feet padded quietly across the tiled floors. Occasional rugs cushioned her steps as she walked from room to room. Beautiful wicker furniture filled the spaces she passed through.

She stopped in the middle of what seemed to be a third living room and sniffed. The smell of freshly baked bread filled her senses. She followed the aroma to the back of the house where she found a small black woman pulling a pan from the oven.

“You’re just in time,” the woman said without looking back. She sat the bread pan on the oven. “It’s best when it’s warm.”

“Hello.”

“You are Michelle and I’m Marta,” the woman turned to Michelle and her smile lit her face. She held out her hand and Michelle took it, impressed by her firm grasp. The woman really was tiny. Michelle wondered if she was more than five feet tall and weighed ninety pounds. Still she looked very sturdy.

Marta swept her hand toward a table. “Help yourself to whatever you like while I slice the bread.”

A variety of fruit overflowed from a bowl. Michelle selected a fresh peach, sat down and took a bite. The juices dribbled down her chin and she groaned.

“Delicious.”

The older woman nodded her approval and placed several thick slabs of warm bread in front of Michelle. “The jam is fresh.” She indicated three jars on the table. “Or you can have butter if you prefer. Or both, like my Nicholas.”

Michelle reached for the strawberry jam. “Is Nicholas your husband? He picked me up at the airport last night.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go with him, but I had things to attend to. Do you have everything you need?”

Michelle took a healthy bite of bread and let her nod do the talking. When her mouth was empty, she said, “I’m sorry I missed breakfast, and lunch it seems.”

“You are not on a schedule here.” Marta placed a full glass of a dark liquid in front of her. “This is tea. I cook three meals a day:
,
, and
But if you miss one, you are welcome to anything in the kitchen. This is your home now.”

After her first piece of bread was gone, Michelle slathered a second one with what looked to be blackberry jam.

“Have you lived here long?” Michelle muttered the words around her food, thankful her mother wasn’t here to criticize her for her lack of manners.

“The main house was empty for many years before Mark bought it,” Marta said. “But my Nicholas and I have lived in our home for ages.”

Michelle looked out the large bay window to where Marta pointed after she placed a plate of cheese on the table. A smaller clapboard house was nestled amid the trees.

“If you need us at any time, you can find us there.”

Michelle swallowed a piece of cheese then asked, “When will Kate be back?”

“Not until next week.”

“Next week?” A second bite caught in Michelle’s throat and she coughed. “She said a few days. That’s more like seven or eight days. Today’s only Monday.”

Marta laughed. “Mark had unexpected business in
London
. He likes to have Kate with him. They are so in love.”

Irritation grew in Michelle for the first time that day. “True they are, but to invite someone to stay and then leave for that long? Kate’s always been impulsive, but this takes it to a new level.”

“Don’t be upset with her,” Marta said. “She said you needed a quite place to finish your book. That you had a relationship that ended badly and would enjoy the quiet time.”

Damn Kate! How could her friend discuss her man problems with a total stranger?

“You are angry,” Marta said softly. “Please don’t be. Kate and I talk about a great deal.”

Michelle tried to tamp down her annoyance. Being alone here wasn’t that bad, but it wasn’t what she’d expected. Still, she had work to do, and it was hard to stay upset when you’d had a muse-induced orgasm that caused a rush of creative juices.

“Tell me about the house,” Michelle said in an effort to change the subject.

“Built in 1835 by Joseph Talburt.” Marta took a sip from her own glass of tea. “His family moved here from
England
where he ran a shipping firm. He tried to establish the business in
Florida
, but failed. His wife left him and he died penniless.”

Michelle scrunched up her nose. “Not a very pleasant story.”

“No, but it gets better,” Marta said. “The Maddox family bought the property soon after Talburt died. Benjamin Maddox tried to farm indigo, and had a little success with it. But he also had a shipping company that was very successful. The house stayed with his family until the 1930s when the last of Maddox family died. Mark and Kate bought it last year.”

“You said you have lived here for a while,” Michelle said. “Even when the house was empty?”

Marta was working with a knife and something Michelle couldn’t see on a cutting board. “A member of my family has served as a guardian of the house since the late 1800s.”

Michelle felt a chill run up her spine at the odd choice of words. “Guardian? What are you guarding against? Is the house haunted, possessed, cursed?”

A dark cloud passed over Marta’s face and Michelle felt a shimmer of doubt crawl through her stomach. Her doubt quickly changed back to the irritation she’d felt earlier. What sort of situation had Kate left her in, exactly?

“We…” The ringing telephone interrupted the older woman, who ran across the floor and grabbed the receiver. Michelle almost had the feeling she was reaching for some sort of lifeline, to escape the question posed to her.

“Kate,” Marta said, motioning toward Michelle. “How are things in
London
?”

There was a pause and Marta nodded. “Yes, she’s right here.”

Michelle took the phone from Marta who mouthed, “Dinner at seven.” Then the older woman bolted out the back door. Michelle stared after her, a puzzled look on her face.

“Mick?” Kate’s voice filled the kitchen and Michelle raised the receiver to her ear.

“Well if it isn’t my absent hostess. Thanks for not being here, wench.”

Kate laughed. “Oh please, you have two weeks until your deadline. By the time I get home, you’ll be finished with your latest masterpiece and we can play on the beach. And I can introduce you to some of Mark’s hunky friends.”

“No fix-ups,” Michelle growled. “I thought I made that perfectly clear.”

“We’re just planning a little party for Mark’s birthday a week from Saturday night,” Kate explained. “Some of his friends are gorgeous. Tall dark and handsome, just the way you like ‘em.”

Michelle thought about Sebastian; her tall muse who was light and handsome. She pictured his long blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. She still didn’t know how she’d created him. None of her heroes were blonde.

“Are you listening to me, or are you really that pissed?” Kate’s voice had a tinge of doubt. “If you’re mad, I’ll fly home tomorrow.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll pretend that this huge house is mine. I’ll eat all your food and drink all your booze. Got any porn I can watch while I suffer the nights by myself?”

Well, not exactly by myself. Sebastian will be here
.

The thought brought a smile to her face.

Kate’s laughter drifted over the lines. “Behave. I’m not giving you our porn stash. But I could always call Ducky. He’s a friend of Mark’s who lives up the road. He could keep you company at night.”

Michelle joined in the merriment. “No thanks, I have to work. And I’m not sure I want to dally with someone called Ducky.”

Plus I have Sebastian, whom I plan on calling out again tonight.

“His real name’s Josh,” Kate said. “And he’s kinda cute. Maybe you should give a blond a chance this time.” There was a lingering pause. “Fine, I’ll respect your wishes until the book is done. Then all bets are off. See you soon.”

The phone went dead and Michelle called out Kate’s name. Damn. She didn’t have a chance to ask about Marta’s reaction to her question earlier.

The idea that the house was haunted didn’t sit well with Michelle. Several of her books featured haunted houses, but that was fiction. The heroines had big strong heroes to protect them.

Michelle was spending her nights in this big house by herself. Ghosts and demons would not be welcome housemates. Perhaps she would just have to conjure up Sebastian to sleep with her at night and scare them all away for her. She imagined cuddling against his muscular chest as he caressed her hair, and other soft places.

It wouldn’t be hard to forget about ghosts while Sebastian stroked her to orgasm. She waited for Marta to come back but gave up after twenty minutes. She had several rewrites to finish, more sex to incorporate and three more chapters to write.

After she was done she would reward herself with another fantasy about Sebastian during a
swim. Then her muse could help her with tomorrow’s writing.

* * * *

When the rewrites were done and the first of her three final chapters outlined, Michelle went to the kitchen only to find it empty. She looked at the clock and shook her head. It was after eight and the sun was setting already.

A note from Nicholas said that he and Marta had gone to town and would be back late. Dinner was in the refrigerator.

Michelle wondered if the trip was scheduled or if it was an attempt by Marta to avoid Michelle’s questions. She really had freaked out when Michelle asked about the ‘guardianship’ of the house. It seemed such a strange word to use when discussing a house. She could think of any number of others: caretaker, custodian, curator. Well, she supposed she could think of anything that began with a C. She snorted out a laugh and opened the refrigerator, all thoughts of the wayward residents fleeing from her mind.

Her taste buds watered at the sight of a plate of peeled shrimp surrounding a bowl of cocktail sauce. A bowl of salad filled with greens, oranges and almonds sat beside the seafood. A whole cheesecake topped by large strawberries sat on the lower shelf.

Michelle made a picnic on the screened-in back porch. She helped herself to a cold beer and started in on the shrimp. There was just enough of a breeze to cool things off a little. Funny how she hadn’t noticed the heat this afternoon while she’d been writing. She’d been too focused on Charles and Hannah.

Now she glanced out at the palm trees and bushes, wondering what secrets they held. This was a manor house that had survived the years. Children from previous owners would have played there. Had they buried items that could be found now, giving clues to life in
Florida
in the 1800s? It might prove interesting to go out and do a walk-through, see if she could find something. Of course, looking for buried treasure would be intensive, and she didn’t have time for that. She needed to work.

Thoughts of Hannah and Charles flittered through her mind as she ate all the salad and a good portion of the shrimp before pushing herself away from the table. Her mouth called for the cheesecake but her stomach rebelled. Best to wait for later, she knew. It would make a good
snack while she was clacking away at the keyboard.

The sound of the surf hitting the shore brought back memories of last night. She closed her eyes and saw Sebastian’s large skilled hands. She shivered as she remembered him stroking her to orgasm.

A fantasy had never been that real. She’d always imagined her male hero as a muse while she was writing. This was the first time, however, that a new muse had pushed the current muse away. Never had one cause her to get herself off on a beach while she imagined looking into his clear blue eyes. For that matter, she’d never had a muse with blue eyes. Her heroes always had brown eyes. Just like Justin.

BOOK: Waking Sebastian
11.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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