For The Love Of A God (13 page)

They both looked at Jeremy's prostrate figure. He was already asleep on the floor, nestled on some lady's pink pashmina.

With Sheila following, Eric led Maia outside the coat room. And then they noticed the crowd which had gathered. Maia rolled her eyes. All the people who'd ignored or hadn't heard her cries seemed to suddenly be interested in the proceedings. Museum staff, Sarah, her date, even Wally. There were all there. Even Dino was there in the background, mouthing, “Ohmigod!"

Eric almost growled as he ushered her through the crowd. “Let her through, people!” He led her back into the main hall and toward their table. Once there, he held her chair out for her so she could sit, and placed her shawl around her shoulders. “Want a drink?"

"Yeah. And you look like you could use another one, too,” she joked half-heartedly.

"Good idea,” he growled again. He motioned to Sheila and Dino. “Sit with Maia for a second, would you? I'll be right back."

They watched as Eric headed to the bar, only to be joined by Sarah's date. Maia frowned, watching the two men talk. Their heads were together, and they kept darting looks around the hall and toward her.

What on earth could Eric have to say to that guy at a time like this?

"Do they know each other?” asked Dino.

"I didn't think so."

Whatever their acquaintance, they knew each other well enough to drink together. Maia watched as they both quickly downed their scotches, and as the dark-haired man gave Eric an encouraging pat on the shoulder. She was a bit concerned about Eric's alcohol consumption, but decided to chalk it up to the stress of the evening and tried not to think about it.

"Boy,” Sheila said. “That was something else back there. Eric defending you."

"Yeah,” Maia said. “It was."

And she missed him already. She'd forgotten her momentary anger. She just wanted to be with him, doing anything and everything. Despite all of Jeremy's attempts at ravishment, she still wanted Eric so badly. She shouldn't want anyone under the circumstances, but she did. She needed him. Wished she could go back to the moment on the dance floor when he'd told her how much he desired her.

But she seriously doubted anything like that would happen even now. He was too hot and cold.

Sheila elbowed her, and she turned. Eric had left the other man at the bar and was headed toward her, clutching something which looked like brandy and looking downright famished for her.

She wondered if the hot was winning out over the cold.

He came to within an inch of her and looked down, his body generating a heat so powerful she suspected it could deprive a few polar bears of their homes. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were narrowed. Possessive. Smoldering.

Perhaps also slightly inebriated. But in a hot, hot way.

He handed her the drink. “Here. Drink."

She did. In one gulp.

He reached for her hand. “Now, let's go."

A nasal-sounding noise escaped her. “Where?"

And as he turned her away from Dino and Sheila, he whispered in her ear, “My place."

He spirited her away before she even had a chance to shoot her drooling friends a look which said, “Pray for me!"

Although she barely had the sense to notice anything more as they left the gala, she did take note of one strange thing. Sarah's date had turned to them, watching them as carefully as a new mother would watch her child on the playground. The gorgeous man followed them to the door and turned around to survey the ballroom.

The last thing Maia would recall about the gala was the man standing there, arms at his side, peering at the other guests through suspicious dark eyes. Looking very much like a bouncer.

In her disguise, Nemesis sidled up to the bar and decided she'd had enough fun for the night. She might as well hang out at the pitiful excuse for a gala and drink her cares away.

After all, she'd found out what she needed to know.

Anyone with half a brain could see Eric was smitten with the Douglas whore. The way he'd looked at her when Jeremy groped her was nothing short of anguished. Nemesis had never seen anything like it. Not even after she put his boring priestess out of her misery.

He loved her. It was as clear as the green of his eyes and just as deep.

She knew hexing Jeremy would produce results. The man had already been so drunk over his wife. All Nemesis had to do was plant a little suggestion in his ear. She'd suspected once Eric heard about the mauling he'd come running.

And he hadn't disappointed her.

So. He loved Maia Douglas.

Nemesis touched one of the beautiful orchid arrangements on the bar. The flower was so delicate and pale. Like Maia's throat. But upon her touching it, the orchid wilted and died. As the brownish remains fell into her open palm, Nemesis crushed them.

She knew what she had to do now.

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"So, this is your place.” Maia entered the posh Bloor Street penthouse and dropped her shawl onto a white leather couch. And then she picked it up again, because her tatty shawl looked ridiculous next to the exquisite Italian leather.

Eric closed and locked the door, leaned back on it, and regarded her. Eyes slowly raking up and down the length of her gown. Saying fuck all, pardon her French.

Shit
, thought Maia.
What do I do?
George, the skinny archaeologist, had never looked so hungrily at her. In fact, George had looked as if he never ate at all. Certainly, his looks had never made her shake. In fact
intercourse
with him had barely made her shake. And now she had the distinct impression the next few moments with Eric Lord would rock her world.

Would they finally have sex? He certainly looked as if that was the plan.

And as much as she was ready to beg for it, it was also a little scary. What if she disappointed him? Man, these intense types freaked her out. She was right out of the old comfort zone on this one.

She looked around, eager to move out of his hawklike line of sight. She touched a framed print on the wall, a beautiful mythological scene. “Nice. Apollo and Artemis. The twins."

Eric let out a strange laugh. “Yeah. Personal friends of mine."

What was wrong with him? Now, he was loopy instead of sullen.

Sure, she knew he'd had a little to drink, but the ride home had been little less than tortuous. Thank goodness Eric had had the sense to rent a limo. But once they were in the car, he'd barely said a word. And he hadn't touched her once, even though it was the perfect opportunity to get the party started. Instead, he'd just stared at her with a tormented face, as if he was a lost sailor and she was the siren swooping in to catch him in her deadly talons. His expressions had fluctuated between keen desire and what seemed to be an even keener desire to toss her out through the sun roof.

And now, even though he appeared to be in his sex-up mode again, Maia couldn't help feeling a little deflated.

Was he so reluctant to screw her that he was afraid to begin? Was he just going to stare at her all night long?

She ran a frustrated hand over her fake Veronica Lake waves. “Look,” she said quietly. “Thanks for what you did tonight. I should go home. I'll hail a cab."

There was a flash and he was at her side. Whoa! How did he move so quickly? Maia felt her head spin, and mentally counted the lime daiquiris Dino had plied her with at the gala.

"No. Don't go.” He was at her side, staring down at her bare shoulder, looking as if he couldn't let her leave.

It was her turn to let out a crazy-person laugh. “Why, Eric? We're clearly not good for each other. I've never considered myself to be an insecure person, but with you I'm a mess. I've never felt so alive yet so unworthy in my life. Nothing adds up, and yet I'm unable to stop thinking of you. And you're obviously not happy with me."

"That's not true."

She looked up at him. “Then, why am I here? You don't look like you want me here."

"It's not that.” He picked up a piece of her hair and rolled it between his fingers. “I want you more than you know. But after what happened tonight..."

"Jeremy? Forget him. I already have."

"He could have hurt you. I can't handle the thought of someone hurting you."

She placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling his heat through the tux jacket, feeling a little better with his admission. “I'm with you. Who could hurt me now?"

He rested his forehead against hers. “Oh, Maia. There are things about me you don't know. Things which have kept me away, when all I've wanted to do is run to you."

"So?” She pulled away a little, offering him an encouraging little grin. “It can't be that bad. You don't strike me as a serial killer, and I'm guessing you're not using me to cover up some sort of elaborate gay love scandal."

"Nah,” he chuckled, pulling her closer by her elbows. God, he even made her elbows feel wanton.

"Besides, there are things you don't know about me either. But none of those things really matter."

"What are those things?” He pressed his thigh against hers and she felt her body go up in flame.

"Well ... when I was eight, I went through a really determined nose-picking stage. And I wet the bed until I was ten.” She raised her head, showing him it wasn't so hard to reveal one's deepest, darkest secrets. “And I'm very suspicious of falafel. I don't know why. I just am."

Eric burst out laughing and pulled her body flush against his, kissing her forehead.

And then he looked down at her with more gentleness than he'd displayed all evening. He ran a finger along her jaw and watched as her goose bumps rose under his touch. “My secrets,” he said in a hushed voice, “are much worse."

And as Maia glimpsed the darkness in his eyes, she was suddenly scared again. But not scared
of
him. Scared
for
him.

Maybe, just maybe, she could make things a teeny bit better. Could soothe his soul just a little.

She reached up and dug her hands into his hair. “I'm not worried about your secrets, Eric,” she whispered. “Not tonight."

And then, as she would remember the rest of her life with infinite pride and satisfaction, Maia the museum dork took the initiative and kissed him.

He stiffened. But as she continued to kiss him and play with his hair, she felt him start to relax.

All except for one part of him which remained shockingly stiff against her.

He began to move, and she melted into his arms. As Eric's large fingers played with the zipper at the back of her gown, she was once again seized by the electricity in his touch. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! What would it be like when he was inside her? Would she be electrocuted as soon as he put those zingy fingers near the puddle between her thighs?

But then his lips were on hers and she didn't care.

She was barely able to move or think as he sucked her bottom lip, nibbled her top lip, and feasted on her tongue. She was already legless, spineless. And not quite sure how she was still standing.

But stand she did, as she watched him remove his clothing in front of her. Jacket. Shirt. Pants. All of it. And as he stood nude before her, he grabbed his dick and pumped it a couple of times. Quite unnecessarily, she thought, because it was already enormous. But it was still a complete turn-on.

And then he was kissing her again, his cock pressing hard into her belly.

He reached around for her zipper again to drag it south, but only got about another half inch down before he noticed her face. She tried to hide her look of uncertainty from him, but failed miserably. “Maia, what's wrong? If you don't you want to do this..."

"I do.” She opened and closed her mouth a few times, feeling so inadequate before his golden, manly beauty. “It's just—oh God, here comes my stupid insecurity. You're so goddamn perfect. Why would you want me?"

His eyes widened and he blinked at her a few times. His brow creased in an expression of great tenderness. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?"

Her eyes suddenly misted, big fat wuss that she was.

His mouth set in a tight line. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the bedroom. Once there, he wheeled a gold-leaf cheval mirror out of the corner and stood her in front of it. Still overwhelmingly naked, he stood behind her and looked at her in the reflection. Slowly, he ran his hands up and down her bare arms. “I'm going to show you how very beautiful you are."

Finally, he finished with the damn zipper, easing it down the curve of her buttocks. Then he peeled the dress off her body and let it slip to the floor, and helped her step out of it. Maia didn't want to look at her near-nude reflection, but Eric would brook no opposition. He made her look at herself. In nothing but her silk panties and heels, she felt uber-exposed, but he was drinking in the sight of her in the mirror.

Just when she thought he might finish with this weird experiment, he helped her take her shoes off and set them aside. And then he hooked his fingers in her panties, still looking at her in the mirror. “Watch,” he whispered.

Oh-so-slowly, Eric pulled the undies down over her hips, smiling slightly as he did so. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight. Especially when she saw how his eyes focused on her pubic area. His lips had parted, and she saw her own chest heaving in the reflection.

Once the panties were off her, he stood still behind her. His large hands came up to fondle her breasts, and she sucked in air at the sensation. “Look how sexy you are,” he breathed. “Your cheeks are flushed. And I can already see the moisture between your legs, right there on your delicious thighs."

"Please,” she begged, turning away from the mirror.

Gently, but forcefully, Eric spun her around. And made her look. And she did.

"Now,” he whispered. “I want you to watch this. And see how truly gorgeous you are."

As his hand roved in the direction of her female heat, Maia wanted to cry. But she didn't know if it was from shame or from the incredible lust he'd aroused in her. He was making her watch, for God's sake! Who did that?

And yet, it was breathtaking to see.