The Sight of Home

The Sight of Home

4.2 11
by Sean Michael
     
 

Stone is used to getting around on his own, even if he is blind. When he decides to head out on a book tour to promote his latest title, though, he knows he needs more help than his seeing eye dog can provide. Stone decides to hire a personal assistant, someone to help be his eyes and ears on the road. Mason seems like the perfect candidate, a strong, ex-military man… See more details below

Overview

Stone is used to getting around on his own, even if he is blind. When he decides to head out on a book tour to promote his latest title, though, he knows he needs more help than his seeing eye dog can provide. Stone decides to hire a personal assistant, someone to help be his eyes and ears on the road. Mason seems like the perfect candidate, a strong, ex-military man who can take care of anything. Even if he can't see Mason, Stone knows he's attracted to the man's gravely voice and hard body, and things start moving fast. Maybe too fast. Will Stone scare Mason off with his strong feelings, or can Mason see how good they could be together?

Product Details

ISBN-13:
2940000132708
Publisher:
Torquere Press
Publication date:
03/01/2008
Sold by:
Barnes & Noble
Format:
NOOK Book
Sales rank:
403,202
File size:
0 MB

Related Subjects

Read an Excerpt

Stone finished listening to his messages and stretched tall, back popping and cracking. Leeah was curled at his feet under his desk, snoring softly. Fall was really started, the wind blowing through the open windows of his office chill and damp, curtains rustling, leaves blowing in.

He almost had all his class stuff organized, ready to go. Two semesters off. He hadn't done that since he started teaching. Probably wouldn't be taking the time off now if his second novel hadn't hit hard. Who knew a simple story about the Civil War would be so popular?

"Dr. Watson?" Hillary's sweet little voice sounded, the door hinges creaking. "Your four o'clock appointment is here."

"Oh, excellent. Send them in." He'd decided he needed a personal assistant, someone to help him juggle, help him travel.

The door opened farther, firm steps clicking on the floor. "This is Mason Vergis. Mr. Vergis--Professor Watson."

A deep chuckle sounded. "Professor Watson? As long as you're not expecting me to be Sherlock Holmes." The voice matched the chuckle, low and gravelly, as if its owner didn't speak often.

Stone smiled, shook his head. "Right era, wrong man." He stood, held his hand out. "Very nice to meet you, Mr. Vergis."

His hand was engulfed in one that was large and strong, warm. The handshake was firm.

"Ditto."

Oh. He liked that.

He liked that a lot.

"Please, have a seat. Would you like a coffee?"

"Thanks."

The chair slid across the floor.

"Hillary? Two coffees, please?" He found his chair, opened his laptop and searched for Mr. Vergis' resume. If he remembered correctly, Mason was a former soldier, a bodyguard.

"Black, no sugar,"put in that growly voice.

"So, Mr. Vergis, tell me about yourself, about why you applied for the position."

Vergis cleared his throat. "Call me Mason. I did ten years in the service. Honorable discharge. Did a few years as a bodyguard. I'm looking to get into something that combines that with a few brains."

"Well, I can't see that I'd need bodyguarding, but I need brains." He smiled. "I'll be honest. I'm traveling, starting next month. Thirty-six weeks, sixty cities. I need someone who can drive, read mail, help me get around, basic daily things. The pay's not great, but room and board's included, travel, that sort of thing."

"Well, I can do all that. And it sounds a lot more interesting than babysitting some spoiled, rich kid."

"Well, we won't be in the Ritz, but we'll be in decent places and I have a good-sized house." He leaned back. "Have you ever worked with a blind person?"

"No, sir, I haven't." He heard Vergis shift in the chair. "Are you really totally blind? I don't mean to be rude, you're just ... you don't act like you can't see."

Stone took his dark glasses off, showed Mason his pale, blank eyes, the fine webbings of scars that covered his face. "I was in a plane accident when I was five. Haven't seen a single thing in thirty years."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suggest..." Mason cleared his throat, an awkward silence falling.

"No, no. Please. I'll take it as a compliment." He smiled, put the glasses back on. "I'm very self-sufficient, as a rule. My life's just getting complicated."

"You don't want me to leave then?"

He frowned, tilted his head. "Well, our coffee's not here yet..."

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