Excerpt of Requiem for Rab by Marie Treanor

It's not every day you see a ghost, right? And it's pretty unusual for your ex-husband to loom over your new lover's shoulder, especially when you're in bed at the time. Extraordinarily unlikely, you might think, to encounter both phenomena on the same night, but there you are, they don't call me Lucky Lili for nothing.

So there I lay, stark naked on the bed, having been undressed with exquisite care by the man of my dreams, who stood beside me, ripping off his silk shirt to expose his gorgeous manly chest, the sort of predatory blaze in his eyes that was guaranteed to make a girl squirm with lust.

Menzies was a mature man, distinguished, successful, with all the self-confidence and glamour that normally goes with such qualities. As well as the firm, fit body, he had wonderfully chiseled features, a square jaw, dark brown hair turning to a sexy iron grey at the temples. I was one lucky girl...

This time, this time...

He didn't at once remove his trousers--frustrating, perhaps but it did imply a certain gentlemanly not-counting-one's-chickens approach. Instead, he sank back down on the bed, resting a hand on either side of me, and began to kiss me while slowly lowering that delicious chest to my breasts. That felt so good I really did begin to squirm.

"So Lili," he murmured against my lips in that breathless, soul-wrenching voice that could move nations, "will you make love with me?"

As a line, it certainly beat, "Fancy a shag?"

I was enchanted. "Oh yes!"

His hands were on my breasts, mine on his cotton-covered bottom, stroking, reaching between our bodies to get at his zip.

"Impatience." He smiled. "I like that."

Brushing my hands aside, he undid his own zip. The trousers and underpants were scooted down his legs so quickly that I didn't get so much as a glimpse of his tackle. Well, the night was young, and already he was pressing it against me, between my thighs.

"Oh, yes, you want me, you like this..."

I gasped, wriggling to help him find the spot. Yes!

Which is when Rab's face appeared over Menzies' shoulder, looking mildly surprised.

My mouth fell open. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Beats me," said Rab with his usual helpfulness.

Menzies was staring at me. "You invited me!"

Thank God. He hadn't yet clocked Rab's presence. I tightened my arms around his neck in a hold that probably resembled a wrestling lock rather than a lover's clinch. All I had to do was get rid of Rab quick and I could still have my long dreamed of night of passion.

"Go away," I mouthed over my lover's naked shoulder.

Rab looked around him, then shook his head. "Nah. Who's the sleazeball?"

"He is not a..." I broke off, staring at the red drops on my white satin quilt cover. Slowly, I lifted my gaze to the source: a dark, nasty stain on Rab's T-shirt.

"Rab!" I sat up with so much force that Menzies and I banged heads. I saw a fine array of shooting stars, though hardly in the manner I had hoped for at the beginning of the evening.

Menzies rolled off me, swearing. "Who the bloody hell is Rab?"