Goddess of Love (15 page)

“I'll wait for you,” she said.

“Good.” His kiss was rough and thorough, and then he reluctantly followed Robert's path into the restaurant.

W
hat, in all the sexless levels of the Underworld, had just happened
to her? Everything had seemed fine. She'd been playing at being a mortal, and she'd been having a wonderful time, especially enjoying the titillation of Griffin's possession of her. She'd definitely enjoyed dancing for him, and the way he'd taken her in his arms, again without her permission, and danced her away from the crowd. Then they'd fallen into that weird conversation about Vulcan. By the flabby thighs of Bacchus! Why had she opened up that Pandora's box? Or, more precisely, why had she admitted such intimate things to a man who was practically a complete stranger—and a mortal one at that? Then, he'd kissed her, and that's when it had happened. She'd lost control.

With shaking hands she retied the mask on her face, grateful for the camouflage, and walked quickly back to their table where her pomegranate martini waited. She took a long drink, letting its coolness soothe the heat that was still pulsing through her body.

The mortal had brought her to orgasm!

Not that she wasn't capable of orgasm. Please—she was Goddess of Love—an orgasm was as natural as breathing to her. What had shocked her beyond words was the fact that the orgasm had been uncontrolled. She hadn't planned it.
He
had made it happen. Then another thought hit her and she cursed aloud. Pea was obsessed with him! So she'd just fornicated against a tree with the mortal her friend, and charge, desired above all others.

She should follow him inside the restaurant and smote him with a swift blast of her divine power. She could do it quickly. None of the other mortals would even have to know. She could reprimand him. Put him in his place. And then wipe his memory clean of their encounter and plant within it a desire for Pea.

But she didn't move.

For one thing, Griffin had said he had no interest in Pea. And Pea had already made it clear that she didn't want magic to be the reason Griffin desired her. So if Venus meddled with his mind, filling it with passion for Pea, she would actually be creating something her friend didn't want. Wouldn't she?

For another thing, it was hypocritical for her to smite him for manhandling her when it was that very thing—the blasphemous way he treated her—that she found so exciting. Venus scoffed and took another long drink from her martini. She could hardly believe that her knees felt weak and she was still flushed and breathing entirely too hard. Clearly it had been too long since she had sipped from passion's cup and her own lust had become an insistent burning heat simmering dangerously within her, until the least little touch of a man had caused her to ignite. Really! She should be ashamed of herself. Venus tapped her martini stem and tried to remember the last time she'd masturbated.

It certainly hadn't been anything like getting ravished beneath that tree by that delectably irreverent man
, her errant thoughts whispered.

“Waiter!” She lifted her arm and the young, tattooed man hurried over to her. “I'd like another martini and something sweet. Something sweet and very chocolate.”

“Lola has an excellent chocolate mousse on the menu tonight.”

“I'll take it. Actually bring me two.” At the waiter's surprised look, she added absently, “I'm meeting someone.” He nodded and rushed off.

“Well, it's true,” she muttered at her half empty martini. Or at least it was supposed to be true. He'd asked her to wait for him. He said he would return. But if he didn't…if he didn't…

If he didn't she didn't know what she would do. The Goddess of Love had no experience with rejection.

 

Pea was having the time of her life! She'd never danced so much (except in ballet class), and she certainly had never felt this beautiful. She was actually flirting. So far there hadn't been one man who stood out from the others. Unfortunately she hadn't found Griffin. And it wasn't as if she hadn't been looking for him—she definitely had! But between dancing song after song and trying to peer through the masks everyone was wearing…well…Griffin could practically be standing right beside her and she might not know it.

Full Flava Kings belted out the conclusion of “Do You Love Me” and, laughing breathlessly, Pea thanked the Roman soldier with whom she'd danced the last two songs.

“How about the next one?” he asked, grabbing her hand and trying to keep her on the dance floor as Full Flava's female lead began singing, “You Can't Hurry Love.”

“Thanks, but I need a break. I'm dying of thirst.”

He still didn't let go of her hand. “Come on, just one more.”

“Thanks, but no.” Pea repeated as she tried to pull her hand from his, not liking his too tight, too insistent grip.

“You can't just walk out on a guy like that. Not after the way you dance.”

“Sorry, I don't know what you mean. It was just a dance,” Pea said, frowning at him and trying not to let him mess up her good mood.

His voice lowered and through the eyeholes in his mask his gaze looked narrow and pissed off. “Not the way you move, it's not just a dance. Don't even try to pretend something else.”

Pea stared at him, not sure if she should laugh or scream. Having a man too interested in her wasn't a problem she was used to. Maybe she should belch on him….

“A goddess is only touched when she gives her permission, otherwise you will evoke her wrath, and the wrath of a goddess is a terrible thing to behold. Even the gods themselves tremble at the thought.”

The deep voice rumbled from somewhere behind and above her. Pea started to turn around to see who was speaking, but she found herself mesmerized by the look on her ex-partner's face. Under his beige mask his face had blanched white, and through the eyeholes she could see that fear had replaced the anger in his gaze.

“Hey, man. I didn't mean anything.”

“Then you should apologize,” Pea said, feeling the need to stand up for herself—by herself. “But not because I'm a goddess. You should apologize because you were rude and pushy. Hello—when a woman says no, she means no.”

“I'm sorry,” he said hastily, and then he retreated into the dance floor crowd.

Still frowning, Pea watched the terrified man scuttle away. Then she started to turn to confront whoever it was who thought he was her savior. “I appreciate you being a gentleman and stepping in, but it was really no big deal. I could have handled it my—” Pea's words choked in her throat. The man standing behind her was magnificent! It wasn't his size that took her breath, although he was tall, probably at least six foot four. It wasn't his thick black hair that was somehow utterly untamed by his short, military-looking haircut. It wasn't the great costume he was wearing with the molded breastplate that looked so authentic and the leather-pleated tunic that left much of his long legs bare. No, it was none of those things that struck her speechless. It was the look in his dark, expressive blue eyes. His gaze seemed to shine through his flaming gold mask, touching her with such incredible longing that it made her tremble.

Neither of them said anything for a long, intimate moment, and then he spoke. His deep voice was so gentle that she could hardly believe this was the same man who sounded so harsh and dangerous just moments ago.

“You said you were thirsty. I would be honored if you would allow me to buy you something with which to quench your thirst.”

Pea realized her mouth was hanging open and she quickly closed it. “O-o-okay,” she stuttered, while her inside voice was shrieking,
Now is not the time to sound like a dork!
She drew a long breath and ordered her mouth to stop its ridiculous babbling. She. Was. A. Goddess! And goddesses were totally capable of conversing in a rational manner with handsome men. And, anyway, she needed to practice on someone who took her breath away so that she would be ready to be coherent if she got another chance to talk to Griffin. “Okay,” she repeated in a more reasonable tone, pulling herself together. “It's only right that I let you buy me a drink. You did come to my rescue, even though I could have handled him just fine myself.”

“Of course you could have…” He glanced at her name tag and his lips turned up just slightly. “…Aphrodite, Goddess of Love.”

“Yeah,” she said and then realized she sounded about sixteen, and added, “Still, I do owe you a favor for your honorable display of chivalry.”

“Let there be no talk of debts between us, Goddess,” he said. “I only want you to drink with me if you truly wish it.”

Pea felt her stomach flutter. His voice worked on her like a slow, sexy ballad. “Well, I did say I was thirsty.”

His half smile instantly changed into a lovely, full-on grin that made Pea's stomach butterfly. He led her back to her table, and she noticed that he limped, which didn't stop him from holding out her chair and, just like a knight of old, bowing her into it.

“Thanks,” she said. Luckily her waitress was just passing by and she ordered a pomegranate martini and a large bottle of Pellegrino—to help keep her head clear. There was something about this man that was intoxicating enough without boozing it up. He said he'd have the same. “Well, so, um, you're”—Pea squinted at his name tag—“the God of Fire. Wow. That's a big job.”

He shrugged and looked surprisingly uncomfortable. “It's something that must be done.”

“I'd say so. I mean, without you how would we light and heat the earth?” Pea said, proud of herself for her pithy comment.

Unfortunately he looked even more uncomfortable. His broad shoulders moved restlessly.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, wanting to put him at ease. “I imagine you firemen guys might feel silly dressing up as gods and such tonight. I mean, truth be known, I'm not a real goddess. I'm just me.”

His chocolate brown eyes darkened even more, and he leaned forward. “I know what you are. You're something better than the gilded, perfect Goddess of Love.”

Pea smiled, thinking of Venus's beauty. “What could be better than the Goddess of Love?”

“You, Pea,” he said earnestly. “You don't need the magic of the immortals. You're unique and honest and real. That outshines the cold perfection of the gods.”

His words made her heartbeat speed up. “How do you know my name?”

“I've seen you here before. Saturday. You—”

“Oh, great!” Pea put her masked face in her hands. “You saw the Great Belch and Penis Drop.”

“That's not what I saw.”

His voice was so gentle that she lifted her face from her hands. Their eyes met.

“What did you see?”

“Myself.”

Pea blinked. She couldn't have heard him right. “Yourself? I don't understand.”

His smile was shy. He seemed to almost have to struggle with himself to keep talking. “It sounds unbelievable, I know. But Saturday when I watched you all I could think was that I knew exactly how you felt. I knew…” He paused and then began again. “I
know
what it's like to be the one who doesn't fit in.”

“You?” she said incredulously.

“Appearances can be deceptive.”

“Don't I know it! I mean, you saw me Saturday. Clearly, you can tell I've had a big change since then. This”—she made a sweeping gesture at herself—“isn't really what I've looked like for the whole rest of my life. I've had some…um…help recently. But since you saw me Saturday, which was before my makeover, you already know I'm usually not this put together.”

Slowly he reached out and covered her hand with his own. “I saw how real and kind you are, and that is something I find very beautiful.”

His hand was warm and big and strong. She could feel the roughness of his calluses against her smooth skin, and it excited her to imagine that he'd earned those calluses by fighting fires and saving lives. It did something else, too. Something that totally shocked her. It conjured images of the night before last when the ambrosia loosened her inhibitions and she'd touched herself and brought herself to an earthshaking climax. It had felt so good, so decadent, so sexy and…

“What are you thinking about?” His voice caressed her.

“Me?” She pulled her thoughts back to the present, trying to ignore the way her face flushed. She felt hot and wet, a sensation that was all the more obvious because of her lack of underwear. “I don't know…. I was just daydreaming, I guess. Sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. Tell me what you were daydreaming about.”

“I can't!” she blurted, then cleared her throat and tried to laugh nonchalantly, as if it was just some kind of silly girl thought that had made her blush and blurt.

Instead of accepting her glib response, his hand tightened over hers and he said earnestly, “You feel it, too, don't you?”

She started to conjure up a laugh and a flippant remark, but something in his dark, intense gaze caught her, and it was as if she could see through his public layers to his private heart. Suddenly, inexplicably, she knew exactly what he meant.