By the Book

By the Book

Ravyn Wilde

A vacation in a
tropical paradise seems just what erotic romance author Joey needs to overcome
her writer's block. And after he spots her showering naked at her secluded
bungalow, sexy neighbor Gray Hawk is more than willing to help her
"research" some hot new ideas for her book! Fun in the sun--and in
the moonlight, and any other time or place--could inspire her to fill in the
"insert sex here" parts of her new story. Joey has every intention of
rediscovering her sensual muse…by the book.

By the Book

Ravyn Wilde

Chapter One

Dazed, Joey stumbled off the plane in
Hawaii. The only thing she managed to wrap her mind around was the thought she
would finally be able to find some coffee. Real coffee.
So
not the
watered-down crap they gave you on the airplane. Awake for almost twenty-four
hours, she’d been sitting in a plane crowded between a mother with a crying
baby and a fidgety teenager for the last six of them. Normally a very nice
person, she’d crossed into snarling and vicious a few hours ago. At this point,
she needed the black gold put straight into her veins with an IV.

Stretching her tired muscles, she looked
with appreciation around the small open-air terminal. The weather was
fantastic, in the mid-eighties she thought. The time difference between L.A.
and Kauai put her here a little after one in the afternoon.

It took just a few minutes to get her bags
and snag the waiting rental car. Opting for a sexy red convertible, she’d hoped
for inspiration and confidence…from a car. She was hopeless. She made one stop
on the way out of town at Bad Ass Coffee where she finally took care of her
latte craving. Knowing if she planned to make it through the rest of the day, it
would have to be the first of many. A girl needed to have some vices.

With the top down and her hair blowing free
in the warm sea breeze, she unwound enough to relax. Just looking at the
tropical paradise surrounding her she believed this trip would be good for her.
Three weeks. She would be spending three weeks in paradise. She reminded
herself to take it easy and to enjoy every new experience as she drove along
the coast road heading to Hanalei. The occasional eye-catching and
calendar-perfect glimpses of sandy beaches and the rugged coastline provided
balm for her soul.

Joey fondly remembered her two-day side
trip to Hanalei while attending a writer’s conference in Hawaii several years
ago. In the time she’d spent in the small town, she’d fallen in love. In love
with the people, a mixture of old hippies—in one day she’d seen more tie-dyed
shirts than in her entire life before. In love with the art and eclectic shops,
finding everything from Hawaiian sunset paintings to New Guinea buka baskets
and African fertility idols. And she’d fallen in lust with Bubba’s chili
cheeseburgers. She’d loved it even before she saw the sunsets…there was just
something magical about the vivid red and gold evenings along the Na Pali
coast.

The lush jungle region satisfied many
people’s idea of what inspirational backdrops should look like. Hollywood
location hunters certainly thought Kauai to be a good choice for movies.
South
Pacific, Blue Hawaii, Raiders of the Lost Ark
, and
Jurassic Park
had
all been filmed in the Hanalei area. Not to mention the old TV show,
Fantasy
Island
. Well, she hoped it sparked her own fantasies, as she needed to find
some form of mental stimulus.

Lost in thought, she reached the infamous
one-lane bridge. This small wooden structure provided the only way in or out of
the Hanalei valley, unless you went by boat. Waiting for her turn to cross,
Joey allowed herself some wishful thinking.
Too bad I’m in this alone.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have someone share in the sultry romantic ambiance
of this place?
Sighing, she turned her mind away from
that
fantasy
and drove carefully across the bridge. Sex. She came to Hawaii to write sex.

An hour after she left the airport, she
pulled into the North Shore Properties office to collect her key and more
directions. She walked out laden with pamphlets on guided tours and additional
information on the area to use as research for a new book. She decided to do a
little shopping before she drove the additional fifteen minutes to the house.

Stopping at the local supermarket to and
pick up a few groceries, she added a large bouquet of exotic flowers to enjoy
during her stay.

Last on her list of necessary stops was the
Old Hanalei coffee shop she’d passed on the town’s single tourist street for
the promised neon advertisement of more caffeine and a light take-home dinner.
She’d started to not just wear down but to morph into a walking zombie. As she
pulled into the parking lot, she caught a glimpse of manly inspiration out of
the corner of her eye. Ummm. What a wake-up call. He qualified as definite
romance hunk material. Tall. Muscular. Tan. His long dark hair pulled back in a
ponytail. She guessed it would be too forward of her to ask him to pose nude
for motivation pictures.
Damn!
Like she could manage to spit the words
out without drooling. Releasing a heavy sigh full of unfulfilled promise, she
watched him walk into the coffee shop. Well, she could always hurry in and
salivate over his perfect body some more.

Waiting in line behind tall, dark and
extremely fine-looking, she did a little mental exercise and worked on a
description of him for one of her books. If she weren’t so tired, she’d pull
out a notepad and catalogue every dimple. He had turned a little to one side so
she got the best of both worlds. He was
to die for
. No, too clichéd. He
was
breathstealing.
Ugh! He fulfilled every warm-blooded female’s night
fantasy. Better. Not much, but…well, she’d work on it.

Standing a little over six feet tall, he
had broad, muscular shoulders lovingly displayed in a well-worn yellow tank top
that clung to each sculpted muscle. His chest appeared to be smooth, no hair to
get in the way if you got the chance to oil his body down. Her fingers
twitched. The muscles in his arms and legs—damn, the shorts were too long to
see much but his calves—were prominent and well defined. His hands looked
large, strong. And that butt. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. His butt was tight,
flexing with the simplest movement. She started to sweat, her body humming with
the need for contact.

So engrossed in the feast spread before her
senses, she missed the first couple of times the clerk tried to get her
attention.

“Can I help you?” the words repeated
impatiently by the clerk finally broke through Joey’s lust and sleep-deprived
daze.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Jet lag. I’ll have a
skinny mocha, no whip, with an extra shot and some of the Thai Chicken Pasta.”
Thank God, she’d already decided on her order. Out of the corner of her eye,
she watched the living embodiment of every capture fantasy she’d ever dreamed,
take his coffee to an empty table. All right. Concentrate. Stay vertical long
enough to get out of here without melting into a gooey puddle at his feet.

Surreptitiously she studied his face; she
hadn’t seen enough to work on a description before. Oh, lord. His dark black
eyebrows raised in dramatic arches above dark…what…
mocha
eyes? Bedroom
eyes. Cliché again. Jeez, she wanted those eyes in her bedroom. Who
cared
if
it was an overused phrase? The sight of all his satiny tan skin and bulging
muscles made her wet.

Joey started. She
was
wet! She could
feel the hot cream trickle from her swollen flesh. Oh, my God, had she ever
been this turned on with just visual stimulation? If so, she couldn’t remember
when.

This man fascinated her. He had high
cheekbones and a large nose, the combination adding definite character and
depth to his face. He looked like he might have some Native American blood
flowing in those hot veins. He had to be hot. No one could look like he did and
not be hot. It would be a crime against nature.

Her attention was ripped away from the
Indian god by the imposition of her purchases being handed to her. Joey took
her things and walked with care, balancing her purse, the latte and a to-go
carton in her arms. Sitting at a table by the door, she put everything down and
pulled out the map given to her by the rental agent. He told her it didn’t take
long to get to the house but it could be difficult to find if she missed the
hidden turnoff. She wanted to make sure she understood where she needed to go.
Any directions he’d given her had been wiped clean by thoughts of the man-god
sitting at the table next to her. Studying the map carefully for a minute, she
sighed in disgust.

“Can I help you find something?” A voice
stroked soft across her skin, the husky tone teased each and every nerve ending
in her body and raised little goose bumps of pleasure.

Glancing up, Joey realized who was talking
to her and her mind turned into a blank slate. At this point she didn’t know if
she should blame lack of sleep or raging lust for making her an idiot.
Find
something
?

“You look lost,” he said. “Maybe I can
help.”

“Oh, well, ummm.”
Get a grip
. “Yes.
The rental agent said the house I am staying in might be difficult to find. I
just needed to make sure I knew where I was going. I don’t want to get lost,
but unfortunately…” She was rambling. Clamping her teeth together in an attempt
to stop before it got out of hand, she thrust the map at him.

With a faint smile he took the map from her
out-thrust hands.

Sucking in her breath, Joey squelched a
groan. His smile was not conducive to her paying attention to any word he
uttered.
Maybe if she didn’t look at him when he spoke?

“You’re going to Kahelelani house?”

“Ahh, yes.” Brilliant response. But she did
remember her rental house had a name—Kahelelani.
Heaven sent.
Weeelll…it
would be heaven sent if he agreed to…

“You’re in luck, I can help. I live just up
the hill from K house and I am on my way home right now. If you want to follow
me, I’d be glad to help you get there,” he said. “By the way, my name is Gray
Hawk,” he said as he offered her his hand.

Joey placed her much smaller hand in Gray
Hawk’s. She ended up mesmerized by the contrast of their skin tones, his dark
caramel while hers was more marshmallow crème. His hand felt warm. Strong. His
fingers were long and sensual. She flashed to a vision of the two of them
entwined together. Light and dark. Those fingers igniting a slow burning…

Ruthlessly she yanked her thoughts back to
the present and pulled her hand away. She had been right, Native American. And
she believed with all her heart and soul that he could help her get several
places. Not one of them having anything to do with a house.

“Ahh…”This was getting ridiculous.
Thankfully he misunderstood her.

“Janice can vouch for me. I promise I won’t
run off with you or anything.”

Darn
. And
Janice-the-clerk verified he was a pillar of the community.

“Okay. I’d appreciate the help,” she
replied. Hallelujah. Five words. And they were all said in complete
sentences…with no blubbering.

“And may I ask your name?”

“Devine. I mean Joey. Joey. It’s Joey.” So
much for one second of cool, calm conversation.

He raised his dark eyebrows and looked at
her, an obvious question in those mocha sex eyes. Hell, she’d tell him
anything.

“Sorry. Besides being beyond exhausted, I’m
an author. Devine is my pen name. Joey is my legal name. I’m so tired, I seem
to have forgotten who I am.”

“Devine what?”

Oh, sure. Don’t ask for my real last
name
. “La Fleur.”

“Well, Joey-Devine. If you’re ready, we can
leave. It sounds like you’re pretty whipped,” he commented. “My vehicle is the
SUV over there. The black one?” he said, pointing through the window to the
vehicle parked next to her rental car.

“Great. I am driving the red convertible,”
she replied in quiet mortification as she followed him out to the parking lot.
Just get her out of this embarrassing situation.

* * * * *

Gray shook his head in amusement. His very
tired, temporary neighbor was gorgeous with those huge sleepy brown eyes and
wild curly hair. He assumed it was wild from driving with the top down. But he
couldn’t stop from imagining what all that hair would look like after a day
spent in bed. Spread over his pillow. Over him.
Ouch.
It’d been too long
since he’d had sex if he was already imagining the temporary neighbor lady in
his bed.

Obviously beat, she tripped over her words
whenever she spoke to him. He thought he’d seen a flash of suppressed heat in
her eyes when she met his gaze, but he wasn’t interested in a short-term
affair. He would do the neighborly thing and get her to her vacation home and
then stay far away from her and the temptation she represented. An author. He
tried to remember what she told him her pen name was…Devine something? Flower.
No, more foreign-sounding. La Fleur. Devine La Fleur. Well, he’d grab a bite to
eat and take a quick shower.

Then maybe he’d see what he could find out
about Miss Devine on the Internet.