Accidentally in Love With…A God?

By: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

The Accidentally Yours Series Book 1




Dedication




This book is dedicated to Naughty Nana (whose secret love of men in leather pants provides endless inspiration), the author Phoenix (cheerleader extraordinaire and master of the dreaded comma—don’t give up on me), my two pirates in training (Dudes! Stop hitting each other with swords, already!), and my alpha male supreme (words could never describe what a hottie you truly are!). Without each of you, there’d be no dreams coming true in my life.





Chapter ONE





Present Day



Wasn’t dating supposed to be fun? Because this was anything but. At any moment, a man I’d never met—approximately six-foot-three, brown hair, and soul-piercing blue eyes, according to his online profile—would walk through the door of the Conga Lounge, give his name to the hostess, and scream hysterically at the sight of me. Okay. He wouldn’t scream. Aloud, anyway. Not that I was heinous, but anyone who looked closely enough might notice I was…different.

I eyeballed the door, contemplating a mad dash before he arrived.

No, you can do this, I thought while staring at the condensation channeling down my glass of water, my leg bouncing under the table. Why had my date picked a corny theme-bar that looked like Gilligan’s Island threw up? What sort of man goes novelty on the first date?

Bad sign. Bad sign.

At least the other patrons—seated around the faux torchlit room, leisurely sipping Bahama Mama’s and Mai Tai’s—were oblivious to my impending meltdown.

I felt the gentle whoosh of summer evening air as the door swung open and the noise from the traffic-packed New York street poured in. A tall man with sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, and tousled brown hair floated in—yes, floated—as if he’d ridden in on a cloud straight from Hot-Man Land. He wore a black polished-cotton shirt, which hugged his well-constructed chest, and low slung jeans that molded to his lean physique. He wasn’t just good looking, he was Milan runway edible. “Oh, sweet Virgin of Guadalupe, please be Jake,” I muttered under my breath.

Like a cliché from a movie, our eyes met from across the room, and his face lit up with a dimple-framed smile. My heart nearly stopped. “Thank you, Virgin,” I said, releasing my breath.

He strutted across the restaurant, a magnet for every female in the room.

“Emma?” he said in a deep slow-churned voice then smiled and held out his hand. I stood up in a daze, mentally pinching myself.

“You are Emma, right? Curly, shoulder-length, red hair, five-three. Several crazed female stalkers for best friends?”

Oh, no. What had my roommates done? Since the whole online-blind-date thing was their idea, they assured me they’d carefully “screened” the guy. But I thought they were just joking about breaking into his apartment and rummaging through his underwear drawer. And dammit, they hadn’t even bothered to dish. Tighty whities or boxers?

I looked down at his outstretched hand. Oh, shoot. Shake hands. “Sorry, it’s just—I wasn’t expecting someone so…” I swallowed and placed my palm in his. It was warm and inviting, just like his eyes. “Um…so tall.”

“And I wasn’t expecting a woman so…” He paused to look me over like a dog eyeing a giant juicy steak. “…adorable.”

“Adorable?” said the deep male voice inside my head. “What kind of moron compliments a woman with the word ‘adorable?’ Does he think you’re a goddamned puppy?”

Couldn’t I have one, just one lousy day without the voice? My blood began to boil instantly. But I resisted the urge to snap back with something lame like, “Well, maybe Jake senses I want to lick him from head to toe. Maybe even have a go at his leg.” But then I thought better of myself. Because tonight, I was on a mission, and nothing would stop me from climbing my own mental Mt. Everest: convince myself that I, Emma Keane, could feel attraction for a real live man with ten fingers, ten toes, arms and legs, and the other necessary dangly bits needed to make a relationship normal. All I needed was the right man.

The catch?

The other person I needed to prove this to wasn’t exactly a person. Okay—truth be told, he was a mysterious voice only I could hear. Yes. A luscious, deep, velvety voice so seductive that it could turn me into a quivering mindless puddle of need with one little sigh. Sound crazy? That wasn’t the half of it. But it was why I had to do this. If I wanted a shot at normal, I had to take this first step.

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