For The Love Of A God (2 page)

The older man looked up. “Miss Douglas, what are you still doing here? It's Saturday night! How come a pretty girl like you doesn't have a date?"

"Tonight, I have a date with Poseidon's testicles."

Wally pulled a face.

"They're about to fall off,” she explained. “The statue, I mean. Poor guy has some nasty cracks on him. I've got to fix him up for the big opening."

Wally just waved her away with a smile. “I'll leave the fun stuff to you conservators. I'll stick to my mopping."

Maia made her way through the empty gallery, wondering why every word out of her mouth always seemed so awkward. But as she pulled out her collapsible stool and placed it in front of Poseidon and his cracked gonads, she didn't worry. Staff at the museum had long ago ceased their speculation about Maia's quirks. After all, she was Jim Douglas's daughter. She was excellent at her job, which rendered her many quirks negligible.

She knew the collection of Greek antiquities so intimately they could have been siblings to her. Quiet, somber siblings. Certainly there was nothing she valued more. She was an expert conservator, specializing in marble sculpture. After she'd completed her studies, the Toronto Museum administrators had been falling over themselves to offer Maia the job. Sure, there had been enticing job offers from as far away as the Hermitage and the British Museum. But she knew she'd never leave her beloved museum. It was her second home.

It was her life.

Before she began her inspection of Poseidon, she walked over to one of the other sculptures. It was the statue of Eryx, the Greek god of love. She stood before him and sighed, letting her appreciative eyes rake over his nude body. Absorbing the warmth he created in her. Feeding off his beauty.

This was her ritual and had been ever since she was a little girl. Ever since her father discovered the perfect statue in a long-hidden cove in Greece.

She remembered her dad's excitement after the find. He'd led her through the museum after hours. She could still hear the sound of her Mary Janes clicking on the marble floors. The museum had been shrouded in darkness, but Maia didn't mind. Even at five years old, she already knew every square inch of the place.

"Come, sweet pea,” Dr. Douglas had said as he walked with her. “I have something new to show you."

Green lollipop in mouth, she'd scrambled after him. She'd always loved these night-time walks. As a curator, her dad often brought her to the museum at night when the tourists had all gone home. He showed her all the ancient gold jewelry and terracotta pieces and told her wonderful stories full of myth and magic. To the little girl, being with her father was the greatest adventure on earth.

Especially since mother had left them.

"Is it a big statue, Daddy?"

"Life-sized. And in amazing condition. It's as if he was just waiting in the cave, hoping to be found.” He motioned toward the entrance of the Greek gallery. “And he's right through there."

Little Maia had spotted him right away. The sculpture was the new centerpiece of the gallery and had been given a prominent spot. Her jaw had dropped open and her lollipop had tumbled to the floor. Jim had grinned and picked it up, glad his little girl shared his passion.

She'd stared up at the statue of the man. He was so handsome. The way the sculptor had angled his head made it feel as if he were gently smiling down at her. Maia had smiled back, immediately smitten.

Jim walked up to her and placed a hand on her back. He spoke in hushed tones. “He is the god Eryx, son of Aphrodite. He was in love with the mortal priestess of his temple. And she was...?"

"Chloe, silly. I know that,” she'd replied. After countless bedtime stories, she knew all the myths.

"Good girl,” he'd smiled. “And do you remember the story of Eryx and Chloe?"

"The bad goddess Nemesis killed Chloe because she was jealous."

"And Eryx?"

"He was sad. Forever.” She'd rubbed her little tummy. “Daddy, I'm hungry."

He'd laughed. “Of course you are. It's late, sweet pea. Let's get you some dinner. We'll come back and see Eryx again."

Maia's face had fallen. As much as her belly was rumbling, she didn't want to go. She liked the statue of the beautiful, smiling god. Even though, all of a sudden, he looked a little sad.

What happened next, Maia had never told her father. Never told anyone.

As she had followed her dad out of the gallery, she'd turned to look at Eryx one more time. Because she was five, and because it had seemed like a fun idea, she'd poked out her green-stained tongue and wagged it at him.

The statue had winked at her.

Now, as an adult, she knew the wink was probably just the overactive imagination of a precocious, little girl. Perhaps the fleeting shadow of one of the pigeons haunting the window ledges of the museum. But it had felt so real at the time. And now, every time she came to work in the gallery, she made a pit stop before the statue of Eryx.

Just in case...

"You're such a spazz,” she told herself as she pulled her long brown hair into a messy ponytail on top of her head, affixing it with two crisscrossed pencils. “Get to work."

She turned and seated herself before Poseidon and let out a sigh. With a gentle hand, she cupped the water god's balls and inspected the extent of the cracks. She'd have to fill them in a little, as well as beginning a general cleaning of the statue. He was starting to show his age.

Soon, between conducting her inspection and making notes, she was lost in her work, oblivious to everything else around her. Once again, she gingerly touched Poseidon's testes.

"How about inspecting mine?"

Maia jumped when the deep voice whispered in her ear. She snapped her head around, almost wrenching off the statue's balls in the process. “Who's there?"

There was no one. Beyond the entrance, Wally was still mopping, but had headphones on now and was mopping to the music on his iPod. He hadn't heard her cry. The gallery was empty, peopled only by the many statues.

And right in front of her stood the statue of the god Eryx, still bearing the same grin as when she first saw him years ago. The grin which now appeared decidedly randy from her perspective.

"You,” she breathed, feeling her heartbeat regulate after her scare. “If any of you old rocks could find a way to talk, I should have guessed it would be you.” Dismissing the voice as a symptom of overwork and stress over the incoming director, Maia turned back to Poseidon.

Even with her back to Eryx, she felt a warm sensation along her spine. As if she was being watched.

Doing her best to ignore it, Maia continued her work.

Within minutes, she knew it wasn't working. Her back was burning.

She should have expected it. She felt the same way each time she was in the presence of the Eryx statue. It wasn't just her love of antiquities making her heart palpitate each time she saw him. Ever since she'd thought he'd winked at her all those years ago, she'd developed a ridiculous crush on the gorgeous statue. In a way, she thought of him as her own.

Of course, he'd always been her favorite of all the Greek gods. She loved the stories about him and couldn't help falling a little in love with him from an early age.

The statue merely enforced the feeling. She loved the perfection of it. The way his curls fell about his strong face. The clean lines of his muscled abdomen and legs. Even the enticing length of his marble erection, as if the sculptor had wanted him captured in a state of eternal arousal.

He was the sexiest goddamn statue she'd ever seen. Michelangelo's
David
was an effeminate pansy by comparison.

She shook her head. It was pathetic, how she mooned over him.

Over
it
.

She could never tell anyone Eryx was one of the reasons she'd chosen to remain with the Toronto Museum, rather than working for another. Since the first time her father showed her the sculpture, she'd felt oddly connected to it. It had been her inspiration as she planned her education and career. She looked forward to seeing him every day, even took extra shifts whenever she could. Just to keep an eye on him and make sure no other conservators got their mitts on him.

Let administration think she was just a devoted worker. She'd keep her strange infatuation a secret.

Frowning, she turned back to face Eryx. He looked so proud on his pedestal, so vibrant. As if he might simply walk off it. His shoulders were squared, and his face angled down toward the viewer. Although he was made of white marble, Maia had no trouble picturing what he might look like in color. Somehow, she just knew those thick curls would be honey blond. Those flashing eyes would be green and his nude body would be tanned. His generous penis could fill her, stretch her ... a velvety pillar of lustful strength.

"Oh, man, I need to get out more.” She ran a hand over her hot forehead. “This place is playing tricks on my mind."

She heard a deep, manly laugh.

Automatically, her eyes shot back to Eryx's statue. Why was it the laugh seemed to come from his direction?

"Okay, I've had enough. I'm outta here.” She folded up her stool and walked right up to Eryx. “You don't fool me, buster. I know you winked at me all those years ago. Now you're talking to me? Maybe I am losing my mind, but if you have something you need to say to me, just get off your perch and say it. Stop messing with me."

Then, feeling foolish for admonishing a piece of marble, she turned on her heel, and left.

As a flustered Maia exited the Greek room, Wally turned out the lights and dragged his mop toward Textiles and Costumes.

In the darkness of the Greek gallery, a pair of white eyes watched Maia's retreating form with suspicious curiosity. Hidden deep inside the cold marble shell of the statue, the god Eryx pondered the odd conservator. “What a funny little woman."

But as she hurried away, his eyes dropped to the funny little woman's rounded ass. Frowning, he forced himself to look away from her wiggling jeans.

Inhaling deeply, he surveyed his kingdom, his Gallery of Greece. It would be his tomorrow when he made his first official appearance at the museum. This evening, he had just wanted to slip in unnoticed, to get the lay of the land. His powers enabled him to do so.

Eryx could change his form. He could fly. He could swim like a dolphin. He could assume different shapes with ease. He could fuck with such wild abandon his partner would quiver with an ecstasy she'd never imagined. And he'd indulged that particular power many times throughout the centuries, usually in Dionysus's depraved company.

He just couldn't make love ever again. Couldn't allow himself to seek a deeper, spiritual connection which came from being with a woman who actually meant something to him.

Not after what happened before. Not after Chloe, and the others. He refused to let Nemesis torture another poor creature because of him.

Besides, it was too painful. When his heart broke, it took forever to heal. Literally. It was his curse.

For the god of love, it was sheer hell not to be able to love. And so, just to be safe, he'd stayed away from women altogether as much as possible. Tried so hard not to get distracted by a lovely pair of legs or ample breasts. As long as he could keep Dionysus's liquor out of his gullet, it was easier. But under the influence ... he was as base and selfish as any other god in the pantheon.

Instead, he'd channeled his considerable energies into his work, trying to make a difference in the lives of mortals. He was done with his capricious ways. Done with screwing with them, and screwing them, just because he could.

So why had he noticed the conservator's fleshy bottom?

He considered what he knew of her. Maia Douglas. Expert in Greek antiquities and mythology. Daughter of a renowned archaeologist. And from what he'd seen tonight, she was as loony as those old guys who talked to themselves on the subway.

She talked to statues. Talked to
his
statue. What was that all about?

"Of course,” he whispered to himself, “in fairness, I was watching her.” It was no wonder she felt paranoid. The fervent gaze of a god could be a distracting thing.

He just didn't understand why he was so distracted by Maia Douglas. All he'd wanted tonight was to sit quietly in his museum and absorb the atmosphere. His statue had provided the perfect vantage point. But rather than contemplate how he would improve the gallery, he'd ended up playing with the mortal Ms. Douglas. When he'd seen her cup Poseidon's nuts, he hadn't been able to resist making a comment.

The look on her face had been so prudish, so amusing. In another lifetime, she would have been just the sort of woman he would have enjoyed corrupting.

Except he wasn't attracted to her. Gods, no.
With those scruffy jeans and her bird's-nest hair? No, thank you.
He knew exactly what sort of woman Maia Douglas was. She was a scholar. Head in a book. Probably never even known the touch of a man.

And yet, just wondering about her sexuality had his stomach in tight knots.

No
, he told himself.
Don't.

He decided on the spot he didn't like Maia Douglas. Couldn't like her. For her good, as well as his own. Besides, she looked a little too full of herself. And if there was one thing Eryx still enjoyed about being a god, it was taking mortals down a peg or two. Ms. Douglas undoubtedly deserved to plummet down a few pegs.

He'd be sure to pay some particular attention to her work as soon as he started. Maybe ruffle her feathers a little.

Besides, he was in
his
new museum and could do what he wanted.

Night had fallen. The museum cleaners were having their supper break in the basement. The gallery was a shadowy empty hub. It was the perfect time for Eryx to transition.

Not a soul would witness the astonishing sight of a fine white mist enveloping the statue of the god of love. No one would see as the mist began to travel, taking the shape of a tall man standing next to the marble artwork. The white fog began to mutate, turning into muscled, tanned flesh. A handsome face took shape. Eyes the color of a verdant forest appeared. The head was crowned with curls the color of golden barley. And full, manly lips spread into a smile of eager anticipation.