Brush Strokes

by R. W. Shannon

  www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

  Copyright © 2012 by R.W. Shannon

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright.

  This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  Published by

  Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC

  PO Box 61

  Colfax, NC 27235

  www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

  Cover Art: Shara Azod

  Editor: Stephanie Parent

  Proofreader: Cindy Davis, http://www.fiction-doctor.com/

  Formatter: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/

  E-book Conversion: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/

  ISBN: (e-book) 978-1-61788-259-3; (print) 978-1-61788-260-9

  To the inventor of love, may he continue to sprinkle his magic on all of us. (hint, hint)

  NOTE ABOUT EBOOKS

  eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving away eBooks is a copyright infringement. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author or Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

  CAVEAT

  This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.

  CHAPTER ONE

  An after-sunset breeze enveloped Scarlett Possi as she crossed the cobblestone street in front of Ciao Bella. The restaurant was located in a village outside of Rhodes, Greece, and tonight was the grand re-opening. Pausing outside the oak door, her hand trembled when she pulled her black shawl across her bare, tawny-hued shoulders.

  Scarlett reached for the brass handle, but the door was yanked open. In the entrance stood Veronica Guccilli, wife of Ciao Bella’s owner, Stephano. Veronica scowled at her. Rolling her eyes, Scarlett knew her best friend was scrutinizing her black halter dress and black pumps. As always, Veronica was dazzling this evening in her gold strapless dress and sparkling stiletto sandals.

  The former New Yorkers had been close friends ever since they’d shared a dorm room at Columbia University. While Scarlett had majored in art history, Veronica got her degree in commercial design. Veronica’s career took off, but Scarlett found herself working as a low-paid assistant at the Museum of Art in New York.

  “I saw you crossing the street through the window,” Veronica said, giving Scarlett the onceover.

  “Well, how do I look?” Scarlett asked as she twirled.

  “Perfect!”

  Veronica smiled and pulled Scarlett toward her for a hug. Releasing Scarlett, Veronica held her at arm’s length.

  “He’s not here yet,” Veronica whispered.

  Scarlett sighed with relief. In the month that she’d lived in Greece, Scarlett had met all the residents of the tiny tourist village. Well, all but one. She had yet to meet her handsome neighbor Mikeli Stavros, owner of the Venti Vicci bar. Although she had seen him going in and out of his apartment or into work, she’d yet to have a face-to-face meeting with him. It was this meeting that made her nervous. Only Veronica knew of her crush on Mikeli.

  Laughter and the aroma of roasted tomatoes greeted Scarlett when she stepped inside the lobby. The design of the newly constructed space was rustic with a modern twist. Stucco walls were accented by honey oak wainscoting. Thick, dark cherry beams highlighted the high ceilings. Wrought-iron chandeliers softly lit the open dining area, which held twenty wooden tables. Stephano had said this was a quiet celebration for only family, friends and locals, but the space was almost filled to capacity.

  “This is amazing!” Scarlett said.

  Veronica shrugged. “I did what I could. Getting Stephano to see past the initial cost was the challenge.”

  Scarlett smirked. “But you have your ways. Remember, I lived with you for three weeks.”

  Blushing, Veronica moved to the bar area. She poured a glass of white wine and gave it to Scarlett. Scarlett had been living with the newlyweds while her two-bedroom apartment was being renovated. The temporary arrangement was fine, but she was ready to move into her own space. The renovations had been finalized this week, and she could move in as early as this coming weekend.

  Suddenly, Scarlet was pulled into a bear hug. She inhaled the masculine scent of Stephano as he crushed her to his chest. Stephano was nothing if not overly dramatic, and he was a perfect pairing for her best friend. Scarlett had first met Stephano while he lived in New York with Veronica. In time, the handsome chef had become one of her best friends as well.

  “The apple of my wife’s eye is here,” he announced with a flourish and a thick Italian accent. “Scarlett, your beauty lights up the darkest room.”

  “Let her go, you idiot. She can’t breathe.”

  Scarlett smiled when she recognized Evander’s voice. The lifelong friends were polar opposites. Evander was Greek, while Stephano was Italian. Both native Grecians had married beautiful American woman, who had given up their lives in the States for love.

  When Stephano let Scarlett go, she peeked over his muscular shoulder to see Evander’s dark curls and blue eyes. Grace stood laughing at his side, breathtaking in a red spaghetti-strapped dress, while Evander wore a blue sweater and navy slacks. Scarlett was with Veronica when she purchased Stephano’s charcoal suit, white shirt and green tie from a merchant near the harbor.

  “I’ll make your favorite—ravioli with spinach and chicken,” Stephano said.

  “That sounds delicious. May I place my order as well?”

  Scarlett turned. Mikeli Stavros beamed as he stood behind them. He looked handsome in a dark shirt and pants. His shoulder-length, ebony hair framed the chiseled features of his olive-toned face. A thin mustache curled over his upper lip, while his dimpled chin was accented by a goatee. When his gaze fell upon her, he winked.

  Her breath stilled. Before Scarlett could speak to him, Stephano pulled her away and led her to a table filled with members of his family. When she turned back to look at Mikeli, he was now talking with one of the women from the village. But his eyes were on Scarlett.

  Scarlett began to work up the nerve to go talk to him. She was stopped by Stephano’s sister, Joliane.

  “How are you enjoying Rhodes?” Joliane asked.

  Scarlett plastered on a smile and answered Joliane’s question. She glanced in Mikeli’s direction. He was still looking at her. While she answered Joliane, his intense gaze caused her to stutter. Damn it. Come hell or high water, she was going to meet him.

  “Would you excuse me?” Scarlett said to Joliane.

  Joliane nodded. Scarlett turned to head in his direction, but Mikeli was being led to the bar by two other females. Crap! She started to move toward them, but was stopped by Stephano’s brother, Sergio. Oh well. There should be plenty of time to talk to him later tonight.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A week later, Scarlett locked the front door of her building. The last shipment of her belongings had arrived from the States. Evander and Stephano had just finished carrying her furniture up th
e narrow staircase to her two-bedroom apartment above her Rhodes art gallery.

  Her move to Rhodes from New York had been an easy decision, especially after the way Veronica had raved about the tiny village. It had been a lifelong dream of Scarlett’s to open a gallery in an international country. And now, it was finally coming true.

  It was ten thirty in the evening and she was exhausted. Dragging her aching body up the ten steps, she entered the spacious apartment and locked the door behind her. A separate street entrance led to the living quarters, but she could also access the apartment by a narrow spiral staircase inside the gallery.

  Right now, the apartment was in disarray. Boxes littered the floor space from the living room to the small kitchen area. Furniture wasn’t placed where she wanted it, but it would have to wait until morning. She made her way through the chaos to the room she was using as her master bedroom.

  Scarlett kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the bare mattress. The linens were in a box, somewhere, but she didn’t feel like searching for them. Closing her eyes, she went over her plans for the gallery in her head. She wanted to turn the back courtyard and empty plot of land next to her building into a sculpture garden with seating. It would be a place for patrons to hang out. Later, she could work out something with Stephano and Mikeli, to serve either food or drinks to the patrons.

  Her thoughts shifted to Mikeli. She hadn’t been able to speak to him the night of the restaurant opening. Whenever she worked up the nerve, either some woman was draped on his arm or she was pulled away by one of Stephano’s sisters. Soon after the grand opening, Mikeli had gone on a short vacation, according to one of his employees. Still, she hadn’t been able to shake his sexy image from her mind. Maybe one day, she’d finally get to meet him.

  The temperature of the room was dropping. Opening her eyes, she realized she couldn’t be comfortable on a bare mattress all night. Damn it! Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, she stood. Scarlett plugged her music player into its docking station and turned it on. As she bobbed her head along to Justin Timberlake, she started pulling tape off of boxes and began the task of searching for her linens.

  By the sixth box, she’d found her sheets and pillows but not her blankets. Scarlett tossed the white linens onto her bed. She pulled the elastic band out of her hair and ran her fingers through her soft, dark tresses. Exhaling, she shook out the fitted sheet and stretched it over the full-sized mattress.

  A knock sounded. First, Scarlett thought it was a part of the Kanye West song that was playing and ignored it. But when it sounded again, she frowned and made her way to the door of her apartment. By now, it was almost midnight. Who could it be?

  She opened the apartment door and peered down the staircase to the solid front door. Cautiously, she moved down the stairs and peeked out the peephole. A man dressed in cycling gear stood on the sidewalk. She turned on the foyer lights, and he knocked once more. Slowly, she recognized the man.

  “Mikeli?” Scarlett asked through the closed door.

  “Yes. I saw the lights on in the building. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” His baritone voice was thick with a Greek accent.

  Swiftly, Scarlett unlocked the door and tugged it open. Her heart stopped beating. When he removed his helmet, she caught a glimpse of his hazel eyes and dark, shoulder-length hair. He wore a yellow and red cycling top with black bike shorts. A yellow bike covered with stickers leaned against his muscular thighs. His smile was magnetic. She leaned against the door to stop herself from fainting.

  “Scarlett, right?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’d hoped we’d have a chance to speak at the grand opening.”

  Her heart fluttered. “So did I.”

  “I heard you were moving in today. I’m sorry to disturb you. I wanted to check on your welfare.”

  “You’re not. And I’m fine. Thank you.”

  But she wasn’t fine. Mikeli was. Now she understood what Veronica and Grace had tried to warn her about at lunch earlier. They’d told her that even though she wasn’t looking, love would find her when she least expected it. Her hands trembled. She quickly hid them behind her back. What the hell was in the water around here?

  “I heard you were out of town,” she said.

  “Yes, I was on a cycling tour along the coast of Turkey. Pardon my appearance, I forgot to bring a change of casual clothes with me and had to wear this on the ferry.”

  “I don’t mind.” And Scarlett didn’t mind at all. The form-fitting clothes showed off his athletic build, and the mound he was packing between his legs. She cleared her throat. “I’m sure it was a beautiful ride.”

  He nodded. “It was. Do you ride?”

  “No. I haven’t been on a bike in years.”

  “Maybe we can change that,” he said. “I’d love to take you on a tour of Rhodes one day.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Mikeli smiled. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. Are you settled?”

  Scarlett shook her head. “I was looking for my blankets. I can’t seem to find them.”

  Nodding, he hoisted his bike over one shoulder and picked up a duffle bag. “Don’t move.”

  She smiled. Wild horses couldn’t move her from that spot. Turning, he walked a few feet away. He opened his door and disappeared inside. Scarlett finally exhaled the breath she’d been holding. Her heart thundered in her ears. When he returned a few minutes later, her breath again caught in her throat. Mikeli held a patchwork quilt in his arms.

  “My grandmother made this,” he said. “I’d be honored if it kept you warm.”

  Scarlett took it from him. “Thank you.”

  “If you need anything else, you know where I live. Please stop by at anytime.”

  “Okay.”

  Mikeli waited for her to close the door. Scarlett didn’t hear him leave until she locked it. With a sigh, she sank to the floor of the foyer. She brought the quilt to her nose and inhaled its musky scent. Damn it. This was not supposed to happen. Moving to Rhodes was about starting a new life and discovering herself. Not meeting a man and falling head over heels.

  Anyway, she scolded, she’d just met him. A man like that wasn’t unattached. Scarlett picked herself off the floor. As she climbed the stairs, she draped the quilt over her shoulders and inhaled.

  CHAPTER THREE

  A few nights later, Mikeli whistled as he wiped down the bar at closing time. He had inherited Venti Vicci from his father when he’d died ten years ago. Since Mikeli was busy with his cycling career, his mother had tried to run it in his absence, but found it difficult while also raising his three younger siblings. When he tore his ACL five years ago, halting his Olympic dreams, he returned to his hometown to run the business.

  He periodically glanced out the windows, hoping to see his new neighbor. He wondered what Scarlett was doing now. A smile spread across his lips as he recalled his first meeting with the fetching Scarlett. The five-foot, six-inch beauty with long dark hair and smooth, tawny skin had been on his mind since the night of Ciao Bella’s grand opening.

  Mikeli hoped last night’s darkness had hid his erection, because he was certain his bike shorts did not. He wanted to go see her, but decided to give her space to settle in. Actually, if he saw her again, he couldn’t be held accountable for his actions. He’d lie in bed, listening to her move about the apartment next door. The fantasy of her moving around in next to nothing, or nothing at all, made it hard for him to sleep at night. Even now, his cock hardened against the fly of his jeans.

  It was eleven p.m. Maybe he could take her a nightcap. What was the harm in that? Tossing the cloth on the bar, he turned to look at the shelf behind him. He reached for the bourbon to make his signature drink. Someone knocked on his front door, and his heart fluttered. Was it Scarlett? Rounding the bar, he opened the door. It wasn’t Scarlett, but an old flame from his past.

  “Dionne?” Mikeli asked in disbelief.

  Dionne Scarpelli smiled at him. Closing t
he distance, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. Mikeli clung to the wood door for support. What was she doing here? This was the woman who’d caused a riff in his friendship with Stephano and had broken Mikeli’s heart into a million pieces.

  “Oh, Mikeli,” she sighed in Greek against his chest. “I’ve missed you. I hope it’s not too late, but I wanted to see you when you were alone, and I couldn’t wait until morning.”

  Mikeli stepped out of her embrace. It was funny. He had expected to feel something if he ever saw her again, but as of this moment, he felt nothing. Still, he didn’t want to carry out this conversation in his doorway for the whole world, and Scarlett, to hear.

  “Come in. You look great,” he commented.

  And she did. Dionne’s dark skin glowed as she moved past him. Her dark hair was as he remembered it, long and curly. When she turned to face him, there was a sparkle in her dark eyes. Her tan linen dress hugged her curves. She smiled. His erection, caused by thoughts of Scarlett, deflated.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You’re as handsome as ever.”

  “Drink?” he asked to be polite, but he didn’t want her to stay.

  “Sure.”

  Walking to the bar, he poured her a glass of white wine. “So, what brings you to Rhodes?”

  Sitting on one of the wooden stools that lined the bar, she paused to sip her wine before answering. “You.”

  “I’m flattered, but aren’t you married?”

  “Not anymore. We separated last month.”

  Mikeli leaned against the back counter and crossed his arms over his chest. His and Dionne’s relationship had lasted for two years. During that time, he was training for both the Olympics and the Tour De France as part of Greece’s cycling team. She couldn’t stand competing with his career and broke up with him. A year later, she married someone else and moved to France.

  Dionne motioned to his trophies and medals, which were displayed above the bar.