Her fingers were never still as they shaped and cupped his testicles. Her nails teased the bottom of his shaft as her teeth and tongue played with the rest of his cock. He could feel his balls tightening and knew that his own release was close.

He was torn between wanting to be inside her and wanting to let her suck him to completion. “I want to come inside you,” he said in a hoarse groan.

Suddenly, he wanted— no, needed— to say her name. “Tell me your name.” Until he knew it, he knew he couldn’t possess her totally. “What’s your name?” His voice shook with rising anger at her refusal to tell him.

As if she hadn’t heard him, she doubled her efforts, continuing to pleasure him until her name no longer mattered. Nothing mattered but the pleasure she was giving him. He could feel his orgasm rising within him like a living beast. From deep inside him, it rose with such power that he thought it would go on forever. The hot seed erupted from him, spreading across his stomach and chest.


“No.” He awoke on a cry of anguish, sitting straight up in bed before falling back against the pillows on a groan of despair. The wetness on his stomach made him feel like a twelve-year-old boy again, helpless and weak. He loathed the feeling.

Throwing his arm over his face, he took a deep breath trying to calm his erratic breathing. His lungs were working like a bellows, his body was covered in sweat, and his long hair was plastered to his skull and neck. He shivered slightly as he lay there trying to recover.

His lovely nymph, who had been haunting his dreams of late, was gone.

Disgusted with himself, he threw back his plain cotton sheets and dragged himself out of bed. He gave a snort of laughter as he remembered the satin sheets in the dream. That should have been a dead giveaway that it was only a dream. He might have money, but he still wasn’t a satin sheet kind of guy. Big and rough, he needed belongings that would hold up to hard use.

He padded into the adjoining bathroom, not bothering with the lights, and turned the shower on cold. Ducking beneath the cold spray, he soaped himself from head to toe and then rinsed off. Two minutes later he flipped off the water and snagged a towel. Rubbing it over his still sensitive body was almost an act of torture. Swearing, he flung the towel away and stalked naked out the door, through the bedroom, and down the hall to his office.

The carpet muffled the sound of his feet as he all but stomped to the corner of the room. He knew it was there. Waiting.

The click of the light as he turned it on was as loud as a gunshot against the quiet of the night. The light, though dim, forced him to blink several times before he could focus on the picture. On her. His hands clenched into fists as he stepped back from the painting.

Pulled by equal but conflicting desires, he sank down into a leather chair, his gaze never leaving the painting. While half of him wanted to fling the object against the wall and destroy it, the other half burned with the desire to possess the woman portrayed in it.

The sound of toenails clicking on the hardwood floor broke the silence. A moment later his wolfhound, Gabriel, thrust his head onto his lap. “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he murmured. He absently rubbed the dog’s head and neck. Gabriel whimpered in doggy ecstasy, turning his head this way and that, making sure every spot received attention.

Eventually, Gabriel flopped on the floor next to him, content and ready to sleep again. The sound of their breathing was the only sound except for the occasional rumble of traffic. The night ticked on towards the dawn.

Staring at the painting, he waited. Eventually, his hands relaxed and he sank back into the comfort of the large chair and tilted his head back. With his eyes closed, he shook his head in disgust. He could no more destroy the painting than harm a hair on her head, this beautiful woman who now haunted his dreams with her tousled brown hair, expressive blue eyes, and incredibly sexy body. He could feel his dick stirring to life again. Just thinking about her made him hard.

From the moment he’d first laid eyes on the painting in the window of a little coffee shop, he’d had to own it. The beauty of the artist’s work had caught his eye, but it was the subject that had captured his imagination. Now that he possessed the picture, he was filled with a yearning— no, a compulsion— to meet her. He felt connected to her somehow. There was a bond between them that he couldn’t explain, but he had to find out what it was.

He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. Maybe he’d just been working too damn hard lately, and that made him more susceptible to his dreams. He really didn’t know and didn’t care. Regardless, he didn’t think the dreams would stop until he discovered what it was about her that fascinated him so. That meant he had to meet her.

Realistically, he expected the dreams to disappear the moment he met her. After all, she was just an ordinary woman, albeit a beautiful one, probably living a completely mundane life. The sexy goddess from his dreams was the perfect creation of his overworked mind. In his experience, people rarely lived up to his expectations.

Better to deal with it head-on so he could put it behind him, especially if he wanted another uninterrupted night’s sleep. He was disturbed with how easily this unknown woman had slipped, uninvited, into his dreams. Being out of control was not a feeling he enjoyed.

With his usual take-charge style, he’d already set the wheels in motion and had begun the first step in the hunt. Find the artist and he’d find the woman in the painting.

The shadows were a light gray when he finally arose from the chair. Cold and stiff, he stretched for a moment to work the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. Gabriel raised his furry head for a moment, but seeing nothing wrong, returned to his doggy dreams.

Ignoring the dog, he slowly approached the picture for one last look. His finger traced the outline of her face before he made a sound of disgust and clicked off the light. It didn’t help. He could still see her sitting on the crumbling stone steps of a city apartment building, gazing at the dawn. Her beguiling face was bathed in the morning light, and her lips curved upward in a secret smile. He blinked, but she still sat there. Waiting.

“I’ll find you.” It was both a threat and a promise that he left her with as he made his way back down the hall and to bed.

Chapter One

“I need a Caesar salad, two pasta salad specials and a chicken salad sandwich on multigrain.” Katie clipped the orders to the board hanging just inside the kitchen door, and deftly scooped up the plates that waited on the counter. She didn’t wait for a reply or even an acknowledgement. She knew that Lucas had heard her. He always did.

She smiled as she watched him work. Lucas Squires was her boss and friend. He owned this popular coffee shop, aptly named Coffee Breaks, where she had worked since she was fourteen. Lucas had started her in the kitchen washing dishes and helping prep for meals. He had taught her how to cook and then eventually, she moved out into the shop to waitress. The patrons were friendly and the tips were good, but most of all Katie felt at home here.

Bumping her hip against the swinging door, she swept back out of the kitchen and into the lunchtime fray. Her movements were smooth and economical as she placed orders in front of their rightful owners. She smiled and chatted as she dispensed coffee, tea, and cold drinks, all the while tempting her customers to try a double fudge brownie, a Napoleon, a strawberry tart, or some other delight from behind the bakery case for dessert. Many of the people she served were regular customers, people who worked in the office buildings a few blocks over who made the trek here once or twice a week because the food was excellent and the desserts were sublime.

Katie rang up sales, scooped up pastries and slices of pie for people to take home or back to the office, cleared tables, and collected smiles and tips in equal quantity. Katie had a natural friendly air about her that made people feel comfortable. She drew people to her with her easy smile and lively blue eyes. She had an unhurried manner about her that permeated the shop, giving the place a relaxed and cheerful atmosphere.

Katie glanced at the clock as the last lunchtime group, a table of five, left. A handful of customers were scattered around the shop, but everyone had their orders and were busy finishing their meals or sipping their coffee. It was just before two in the afternoon and the busiest part of the day was behind her. Between now and closing at six there would be a slow but steady stream of people who just wanted a coffee or a snack.

Sighing in relief, Katie stretched her arms over her head, the move accentuating her long, lean, athletic build. Standing five foot eight in her stocking feet, she was as comfortable with her size ten body as she was with her short brown hair, cut in a no-nonsense style. Katie wore no makeup and her morning routine consisted of a shower, moisturizer, and running her fingers through her hair. Her movements drew more than one appreciative male eye, but Katie never noticed.

“Is that it?”

Katie turned at the sound of Lucas’s rough voice. She watched as he scanned the shop, missing nothing. “That’s the end of the lunch crowd.”

“Have Judy watch the counter.” Lucas disappeared back into the kitchen.

Katie shook her head, amused at her boss’s shorthand speech. “Judy, I’m out back talking to Lucas. Call if you need anything.” One more glance reassured her that the teenage girl would be fine for a few minutes, so she poured herself a cup of iced tea and retreated to the sanctuary of the kitchen.