Chapter 1

King of his domain, the creature hunched in the middle of the raised wooden walkway and glowered at her with glistening, evil eyes. His smaller companions had scattered into the trees the moment she had stepped out of her cabin.

"Shoo," Calli said from ten feet away. She flapped her hand. "Shoo."

The monkey rolled his head back and opened his mouth in a wide yawn to reveal a set of very substantial teeth. Okay, so that was a little scarier. Especially in the middle of a jungle with nothing civilized in sight but three seemingly deserted cabins connected by the boardwalk. Not content with the thick green stuff all around them, the monkey had evidently decided to stake a claim on Paradise Lodge's property and rightfully retake his territory.

"You don't scare me." Calli inched forward, fascinated despite her apprehension. "Don't you have to go find a banana or something? You're a monkey. Even I know monkeys don't eat people."

The king of the monkeys rolled his lips back, favored her with a sneer that challenged her knowledge, and assumed a more menacing posture. She took a quick step back.

"Believe that's a sign of aggression." The disembodied male drawl, movie-announcer rich and husky, instantly raised tiny bumps all over Calli's skin.

She shivered, but didn't dare take her eyes off the monkey. "Will he bite me?"

"Nah, he's just establishing his dominance, making sure you know he's in charge. Checking you out for his harem." A couple of thumps came from the direction of the cabin behind her. Shoes scraped on the wire covering the steps. The monkey straightened, paused, then lost his nerve and scampered through the rail of the boardwalk onto the jungle floor. He disappeared into the thick growth.

Calli twisted around and looked up. And up. Holy cow, the man was tall. Square chin that bore the shadow of a dark beard. A wide mouth quirked in a half grin. Straight, strong nose. Warm caramel eyes framed by thick dark lashes--eyes that captured and held her gaze and looked into her very soul. The man had the face of an archangel. No wonder the monkey had run. She should follow its example, because twenty-seven years of practicing speech had just evaporated.

His grin widened into a smile. His caramel eyes checked her out. The constant chatter of insects and the putt-putt of a boat motor in the distance faded. The sun turned up its brightness and the air shimmered. And she wobbled on legs that had lost their muscles.

"Matt Holloway." He reached out stretched out his hand.

Automatically, she took it, and found a piece of her body engulfed in hard warmth. The world shrank to a tiny, humid, green-encased space. Her body rioted. "Aah...aah, Calliope Marshall."

"A Greek muse in Costa Rica? I knew that monkey was onto something."

Oh. My. God. Had she really just given her full name to a complete stranger? An archangel who knew its origin? She snatched her hand back. The world abruptly restored itself to normal, with the exception of her body, which continued to tingle in all the wrong places. "Nice to meet you. Thanks for the monkey...ah, chasing it away. Gotta go." And she took off, as fast as her legs would carry her in the direction of what she hoped was the hotel's reception.

"Perhaps I'll see you at lunch?" The deep, lazy voice, borne on the warm air, wrapped around her and traced a long shiver down her spine. Not likely. She made it a rule never to lunch with archangels who knew her given name. She pretended not to hear and ducked down the fork in the boardwalk, which immediately would hide her from his sight thanks to the blessedly tall, thick green stuff.

* * * *

Matt sighed as the plump little bottom encased in khaki shorts disappeared from view.

Cute. Curvy. Too short.

Far too short. He liked to study women's faces, not the tops of their heads.

He turned and ambled back up the three steps to his cabin. Amazing hair. What would the dark, shining mass of curls look like released from its clip? No rings on either hand. Sensitive about her name.

He chuckled out loud, even as he eyed the double bed that looked far too small. He'd never known a Calliope before. Suited her from what he could tell. He would take her as a muse any day and, if she was here unattached, he would take her as a pleasant diversion as well.

He yawned. His unpacked suitcase stood at the foot of the bed. He didn't feel like exerting himself to take care of it. On the other hand, a nap sounded good. There was enough time before lunch.

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