Ghostly Seduction (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

by Gwen Campbell

  .

  Ghostly Seduction

  Did Shelby Prentice luck out or what? She’s house-sitting for a gorgeous engineer, the place is a Victorian palace, and it’s furnished. She can’t wait for Lee Tanner to come up on weekends, even if he is so gorgeous she wants to smack him. How’s a girl supposed to feel around a guy who’s prettier than her? To top it all off, Lee’s polite, funny, generous…and Shelby wishes he could be hers.

  Of course, she’s not really alone during the week. Her dreams are vivid, and one dream lover in particular, Raleigh, has a turn-of-the-century manner that could charm the bloomers off a saint.

  Things couldn’t be more terrific. Sure, there are a few weird noises. Shelby swears she can sometimes smell flowers in empty rooms. Raleigh seems a little too real, although Shelby has never believed in ghosts. Until now. Technically, is it considered a ménage if one of the guys isn’t alive?

  Note: This book is written in one point of view.

  Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal

  Length: 47,058 words

  GHOSTLY SEDUCTION

  Gwen Campbell

  MENAGE AND MORE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage and More

  GHOSTLY SEDUCTION

  Copyright © 2013 by Gwen Campbell

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-618-8

  First E-book Publication: March 2013

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Ghostly Seduction by Gwen Campbell from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Gwen Campbell’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Campbell’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  DEDICATION

  In loving memory of Lad, my own Tazer.

  GHOSTLY SEDUCTION

  GWEN CAMPBELL

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  “The TV goes in the back living room. Just follow the green Post-it notes.”

  Shelby Prentice directed the movers as they unloaded her few remaining worldly possessions. The landlord had told her this place came furnished. He’d downplayed the fact it was a mansion. The table in the foyer was probably worth more than her entire jumbled collection of post-college stuff.

  She was looking forward to sitting on a chair that didn’t come from a thrift store and didn’t smell like cat.

  Smiling, she pulled a bottle of water out of the cooler she’d positioned near the front door and handed it to the mover heading back out for another load. He looked too young to be let out without parental supervision, but ever since she’d turned thirty, everybody had started looking younger.

  He accepted the water with a smile and a thank-you before trotting back to the truck. One would think a three-hour drive up from Detroit would make somebody less…perky.

  “Put the books in the office. Right here.” The fourth mover was pushing a dolly up the ramp they’d placed over the house’s broad, elegant front steps. Still smiling, she pointed. “The one with the orange Post-it note.”

  The movers had appreciated her organization. They’d told her so more than once. Despite that, Shelby felt a little anal about pasting color-coded slips of paper on everything and leaving trails of colored paper to lead them to the appropriate rooms.

  Sighing inwardly, Shelby resigned herself to the fact that, as an accountant, anal-retentiveness was a prerequisite.

  “Hey, Shelby. Moving-in day, huh?” Her landlord bounded up the edge of the steps and flashed her a smile that should be illegal in every continental state. Probably Hawaii, too.

  “Hey, Lee.” Returning his smile, Shelby tried not to feel dowdy. Lee Tanner was gorgeous, tall, and built. Bastard. “Come on in,” she added and managed not to snarl. How was a girl supposed to feel next to a guy who was prettier than her? “I’ve got iced tea in the fridge.”

  “You’re a goddess.” That perfect smile of his widened, and he held out the basket he was carrying. “For you,” he said as he followed her inside. “Figured you wouldn’t want the hassle of cooking your first night here.”

  “Thank you,” she said with unfeigned happiness. The basket was loaded with deli-wrapped food—servings of fresh lasagna, stuffed peppers, bean salad, potato salad, green salad. There was also a package of Oreo cookies, a bottle of wine, and cereal, milk, and coffee for breakfast. Great. How was she supposed to stay immune to this guy’s Ken-doll hunkiness if he was going to be this terrific? “It’s too much. You’re wonderful,” she added as she led the way into the kitchen and put the basket on the counter.

  “My pleasure,” he said and jumped up on the island counter as if the four-foot rise was nothing. He sat there grinning at her like she was a prize he’d won at the county fair.

  Shelby saw herself through his eyes and didn’t like the way it made her feel. Sure her blue eyes were pretty and looked good with her black hair. But she always wore it up or tied back in a ponytail. All her adult life, she’d tried too hard to look like a serious professional woman in corporate America. For her, serious teetered on severe. She was tall enough and carried most of her five-six height in her legs, but her face would never grace a fashion magazine.

  Lee continued. “The woman who manages the deli in the grocer
y store in town, she and I practically grew up together. All I said was, ‘Put together a few things for my star tenant.’ She did the rest.”

  “Star tenant? I’m your only tenant.”

  “Same thing.” Still grinning, Lee swung his legs easily and watched her pour iced tea into two glasses before loading the things from the basket into the fridge. He sat there like it was the most natural thing in the world. Well, for him, it probably was. After all, Lee had grown up in this house.

  “Do you mind if we go back to the front hall? I’d like to be there in case the movers have any questions.”

  “Of course.” Lee took a sip of his tea, jumped down, and held the door for her.

  Double bastard. Gorgeous, charming, and polite. The only thing that would have salvaged her shaky self-esteem would be if he was gay. Or married. No such luck. Lee Tanner was divorced and devotedly hetero, judging from the way she’d caught him subtly checking out her ass once or twice while they were negotiating her tenancy.

  “What did you do with your furniture?” he asked after he’d staked out a spot in the entranceway, out of the flow of traffic.

  “Donated it back to a thrift shop.” Shelby sipped her tea and shrugged. “It was due to be replaced anyway. Most of it was stuff I picked up on the cheap after graduation. When and if you manage to pry my behind out the door, I’ll have saved up enough money to buy some really nice stuff.”

  “On sale, I hope,” Lee said over the rim of his glass and lifted one of those perfect, sable eyebrows.

  “Absolutely,” she answered adamantly then grinned when he did. Early on in their negotiations, they’d both realized they liked to squeeze a penny whenever possible. As much as his looks had intimidated her, his sense of economy had compensated for it.

  The movers came in with the last of her boxed DVDs and CDs, and her books. Lots and lots of books. She passed out bottled water. One of the movers handed her a clipboard. She read the itemized charges, double-checked the math in her head, confirmed the hours charged by checking her watch, and signed the credit card slip.

  After they left, Lee followed her into the room to the right of the main entrance. It would be her office. She put the moving receipt on the large, elegant, mahogany desk and ran her fingers over the detailed carving. “Tell me again why you’d lease out this place and live in the gardener’s cottage?”

  Flashing her a quirky grin, Lee settled back on one of the room’s two oversized and opulent leather sofas. “Over the past couple of years, my engineering firm has picked up more international contracts. You remember I told you we specialize in underwater construction?” When she nodded, he continued. “My dad’s gone into semi-retirement. He likes the energy of Detroit rather than living out here in the boonies. After Michelle left me, this place sat empty most weeks.”

  When he mentioned his ex-wife, Lee’s expression darkened. He took a long drink of his iced tea, and Shelby wondered if he was using it as a screen to gather himself. After a moment, he continued. “I remember telling you there were some break-ins. Some vandalism. Minor stuff but with increasing regularity. I put in a security system, but it didn’t help. The response time out here is about forty-five minutes. When crooks break in, they just check their watch and leave before the patrol company arrives. One of the local sheriffs suggested I get a dog.”

  “But with you in the city all week, who’d take care of it?”

  “My question exactly.”

  “So you settled for the next best thing.”

  There it was again…that quirky, adorable smile of his. She wanted to smack him in the mouth for being so obscenely cute.

  “I settled for nothing.” Lee corrected her with gentle confidence. “I reached a deal with a smart, together woman who’d live here full time, suck it up when the winds get to howling down Lake Huron during the winter, take on some light maintenance, even run a business out of the house so there’d be someone here all the time. And be willing to park her car out front so burglars would realize somebody’s home.” He finished off the contents of his glass. “I still get to come up on weekends, enjoy the quiet, and go out on the lake whenever I want. Pretty smart of me if I do say so myself.”

  “Pretty smart,” she parroted with a wry grin. “So why the escalation in break-ins?”

  “Kids probably. Word gets around if a place is vacant, especially someplace isolated on the lake. Gives them land and water access,” he added. “That and the rumor.”

  “Rumor?”

  “Yes. The place is haunted.”

  Chapter Two

  “So let’s back up to that little bombshell you dropped before your cell rang and dragged you off this afternoon.” Shelby took the stuffed peppers out of the microwave, put them on plates with the lasagna, and set the hot food on the kitchen island.

  Grinning, Lee uncorked the wine. “The suggestion that I get a dog?” He placed the salads on the island. Then he pulled two stools up to the place settings Shelby had laid out.

  “I swear I’m going to smack you. Hard.” She actually meant it.

  “Oh. You mean the ghosts.”

  “Ghosts? Plural?”

  His grin turned into a chuckle. “Rumor has it this place is haunted. Has been for almost a century.” He shrugged, held her stool while she climbed up, then sat on the one beside her. “My grandmother used to hold séances for her city friends. Invite them up for the weekend and scare the crap out of them. I remember lying up in bed, listening to them giggle and squeal. I’ve never seen anything weird though, and I’ve lived here my whole life.”

  “Were you born here?”

  “No. But I’m pretty sure I was conceived here,” he added with a wink. “Thanks for inviting me to supper by the way.”

  She blinked at the quick change in topic. “You’re welcome. Your friend at the deli packs a mean hamper, but she obviously thought there were four of me. Or I was a linebacker.”

  “Maybe she did pack too much, but never underestimate the value of leftovers.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Shelby said, raised her wineglass, and clinked it against Lee’s. They drank then ate in silence for awhile.

  “You mentioned you’d be around this week?” Shelby asked eventually. She forked some lasagna into her mouth and made a yummy sound.

  “I will be. Call me sexist but I don’t like the idea of leaving you out here alone before word gets around that you are here. I won’t intrude on you too much because I’ll be working online. I’d like to take you into town a couple of times. Introduce you to some people I know.”

  “Spread word that somebody’s living here full time.”

  “Exactly.” Lee helped himself to a second stuffed pepper and asked before he slid another onto Shelby’s plate as well. “After I’m gone, you can replace me with a dog. Only get one that’s housetrained or you can kiss your damage deposit good-bye.”

  “Duly noted,” she mumbled around a mouthful of rice and ground beef.

  * * * *

  “So I got red geraniums and white snapdragons for the front entrance,” Shelby said as Lee helped her unload the back of his beefy decked-out SUV. “Since it’s August, the nursery didn’t have much of a selection. They said to come back in September for fall annuals. Whatever that means.”

  “Don’t look at me. I’m just here to provide the muscle.” He hoisted a bag of compost over his shoulder and carried it to the front of the house. “You’re the one contractually obligated to keep the annual beds in bloom.”

  Shelby watched him walk. Mmm-mmm. The man sure did Levi Strauss proud. Mentally, she shook herself and got back on topic.

  “Are you sure you want to trust me to take care of these gardens?” Carrying a tray of potted geraniums, Shelby looked around. The house was a grand statement of late-Victorian elegance suitable for any 1880s robber baron. Which, apparently, Lee’s great-great-grandfather had been.

  “All you have to do is plant colorful annuals on the edges of the perennial beds. A handyman comes by every week t
o mow the lawns, fertilize…that sort of thing. I’ve got an arrangement with the local Historical Society.” He dropped the bag of compost and headed back to the truck for another. “I give them a nice, yearly donation and they send a crew of volunteers out here three times a year to weed the flower beds and trim the stuff that needs trimming.”

  “Ah. Yet another example of your unquestionable cleverness.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He grinned as he passed her. Shelby picked up another tray of flowers. “From what I heard as a kid, the Tanner women were fanatical about the gardens. Entered competitions and dragged their society friends up here to show off the grounds. My grandmother started the local Horticultural Society and had me help out at their monthly meetings in her greenhouse. She loved these gardens, so I guess I try to keep them up in memory of her.”

  “The séance grandmother?”

  “One and the same. She liked to tell me about my great-great-grandfather, Raleigh Tanner, who built this place for his young bride and his hunting buddies. Not necessarily in that order.” Lee dropped the second bag of compost on top of the first. He went back to the truck to fetch a bag of peat moss.

  “Old Raleigh was the son of a lumber baron who’d denuded much of the western shoreline of Lake Huron and made himself a small fortune in the process. This particular parcel of land had been unsuitable for logging. All forty-five acres had burned in a fire decades before. When old Raleigh first set eyes on it, so the story goes, it was covered with saplings, brush, and little else. But he spotted the potential in the property. It has the best view for miles around.”