“Brends, clear my schedule for the week.”
“The week, sir?”
I turned to him, saw his face drain from the amount of work my declaration would cause. “Yes. It’s time to go to the stud farm.”
Dolly gasped. “No! It’s far too soon.”
“It isn’t,” I countered, eying her distress with concern. “It’s my turn to deal with this. You say she’s different, but maybe by being around someone who doesn’t know her all that well, she’ll be able to grow into this new chapter of her life.
“You constantly reminding her of what she was won’t help, Dolly,” I finished softly, watching as the older woman pressed her hand to her mouth in distress.
Her cheeks blanched, and her eyes pinched, and I could sense how close she was to tears.
Sighing, because that hadn’t been my intention, I murmured, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“No. You spoke the truth as you always do.” She reached up and rubbed her temple. “You’ve been good to her, Sol.”
“Hardly.” I hadn’t even spoken with her once since the accident. Not when she awoke from the months’ long coma, nor when she’d been discharged.
“No. You have. Dealing with the medical bills and then putting her in the rehabilitation center in the Hamptons.”
They were both costly, but I didn’t feel the pinch. I owned both the hospital where Cindy had been treated and the rehab center, which was Castor and Pollux’s pet project. It had started off as a stud farm, nothing more, nothing less. Then Achilles had returned from one of his many tours of duty and had decided to turn the main house into what he called a mindfulness retreat.
Considering how many junkies they had walking through my halls, I considered it more rehab than mindful, but then Achilles would say I was a cynic, and I’d say that despite his stony temper, he was an idealist…
There was a reason the two of us didn’t always rub along so well.
Bluntly, and not wanting her to think I was some kind of savior when I most definitely wasn’t, I told her, “I promised James I’d take care of you.”
That had her swallowing. “Most men wouldn’t have—”
“I’m not most men.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile. “That’s true.” She tilted her head to the side. “You look tired.”
I reached up and rubbed my eyes. “I am.” It was no lie. I hated the big numbers. A hundred, five hundred, a thousand… we were reaching the three thousandth year since Daphne, to avoid my suit as a lover, had begged her father for aid. He’d helped, the fucker, and Perneus, the River God, had transformed her into the very first laurel tree to escape my undying love for her.
To this day, I hated bay leaves. Couldn’t stand the scent of them, and refused to have them flavor my food—I even knew when they’d been used to flavor broths, and all my restaurants were informed that the use of the plant in any of the dishes was an act worthy of being fired.
Extreme?
Well, that had been my love for the water nymph.
Not even three thousand years could kill the love I had for Daphne.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she inquired softly.
I had to smile. “How about bringing James back to life? I could use his advice.”
A laugh escaped her. “If I could, I would. I miss him,” she said on a soft sigh.
James hadn’t been the best of men, but I’d loved him like a son regardless. There were some people who were aware of what I was, Castor, Pollux, Achilles, as well as the other Gods and Goddesses and their guardians, but few humans knew I was an immortal. James DiStefano had been one of those I’d trusted with the secret.
When he’d died, I’d mourned him, and I felt like I’d been in mourning ever since.
It was hard. Living forever, losing forever. I’d never felt the pinch before, but there was something about this day and age… it made one feel even more isolated.
“I miss him too,” I informed her gently.
She swallowed. “Few stood by him in the end.”
That had me sighing. “He was a naughty boy.”
“Only you’d call him that,” she told me with a misty smile.
“To me, he was.”
“That’s because you’ve seen far worse in your years.” She bit her bottom lip. “The shame is enough to drown me some days, but, what can I do?”
“Nothing. His sins weren’t yours,” I reminded her gently. “And neither are they Cindy’s.”
“Some people didn’t get that memo,” she said harshly, her eyes watering again. “To think that bastard tried to kill her just because she was James’ daughter…”
Feeling wasn’t easy for me. After a while, you lived long enough, and it just became easier to become a blank slate. You couldn’t hurt that way. But I felt now. I felt anger and irritation.
“She was an innocent. He’s in jail now, Dolly. She’s safe from him.” Satisfaction oozed from my words.
A soft snort escaped her. “I wasn’t surprised that it took your investigators a while to find him. Of the millions of people who hated my husband, it must have been like finding a needle in a haystack.”
That had me wincing. “Dolly—”
“No. It’s okay. I knew what James was by the end. He loved Cindy and me to distraction, would have done anything for us, but he was a thief and a liar.” The words hurt her. The admission stung; I could see it in her eyes. “He cheated people of billions and left us in a situation where our child was targeted because of his sins.”
Guilt soared through me. Twice over. One, I should have checked in with James more often. I knew he was a gambler, knew he was prone to making rash and foolish decisions. Two, I should have taken more care with Cindy. Should have made sure she was safe.
“She’s okay now, and she’s guarded. Once we’re wed, she’ll have twice the protection. As it stands, half the staff at the rehab center are all bodyguards.”
She bit her lip. “Thank you for that, Sol.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Two weeks ago.” Dolly started to play with the ends of the silk scarf she wore around her neck. I saw Hermes’ name painted on the fabric, and winced at the sight of a brother Gods’ stamp. “I can visit more, but she doesn’t want me there.” Her throat clutched and she rubbed it with her fingers. “We were so close before—what happened with James only brought us closer. Now she’s like a stranger.”
I leaned over, and the white leather of my armchair creaked as I reached for the hand still fiddling with her scarf. “She’s healing.”
She slumped, actually deigning to let her spine touch the backrest of the sofa, and nodded. “I know you’re right.”
“I’ll go there tonight. Spend some time with her. She’s aware of the wedding though, yes?”
When Dolly started gnawing on her bottom lip, I closed my eyes. Impatience swirled with irritation. “Dolly, for God’s sake, it’s been four months since she woke up.”
“And she’s been healing! I knew you didn’t want to visit, and she’d have thought it damn odd if you didn’t. I didn’t want to tell her her father made you promise to marry her. What kind of woman wants to hear that?”
“She doesn’t know about the Ponzi scheme either, does she? Dammit to hell, Dolly.” I ignored the pleading misty eyes that were staring so beseechingly at me. “No wonder she doesn’t know which way is up or down. You’ve withheld some important truths from her.”
“I’m protecting her.”
“Well, it’s time to stop,” I ground out, aware I was being an ass, but Jesus, Dolly hadn’t helped me at all here. And yes, she’d been correct. I wouldn’t have visited Cindy, and I wasn’t interested in her now, but Dolly’s presence was a reminder of my obligations.
A God was nothing without those.
Rubbing my temple, I stated, “Expecting her to be the same person as she once was is futile.”
“I know. But I miss her. It’s worse than it is with J
ames. She’s there, and I can hold her, but she doesn’t want me.” A harsh sob escaped her, and she immediately pressed her hand to her mouth to stem it.
When she next looked at me, the break in her composure had been patched up, but her eyes were wet. I felt her pain and wished I could do something to ease it. The only thing I could do though was visit my fiancée and see the lay of the land for myself.
“I understand. Dolly, I won’t be in touch. You know that. But Brends will keep you informed as to her status when she’s with me,” I told her sternly, well aware of the next words that were about to tumble from her lips.
“I should be there to help explain—”
“No. You’ve done enough. She’s a big girl. It’s time she realized who she is.”
For a second, the only noises in the room were the occupants’ breathing and the flickering of the flames in the fire on the back wall. Some days, I stared into those flames and wanted to drown in them. Perhaps it was for the good that Dolly had barged her way into my office today. It seemed like my to-do list had tripled in size, but the day wouldn’t end with me wishing those flames would eat me whole to bring me to some semblance of peace.
I was going to take that as a positive.
❖
Pollux
“What the fuck are you doing?” Achilles growled.
I rubbed my nose, trying not to be so pissed about Achilles’ ever-shitty attitude. In the years we’d been together, I’d never adapted to it.
The man was the definition of having a chip on his shoulder.
Although, in his instance, I guess it was more fitting that the chip was on his heel.
The guy was stacked, beyond stacked. As strong as he’d been before his end. He could kill you with a hundred different weapons, beat your ass in less than two moves, and yet, with one tiny little nudge to his heel?
Bang.
Down.
Yep, it was that instant. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I’d never have believed it.
Still, the dick was so beyond stupid sometimes. Speaking to a frightened woman like that was going to get us nowhere, even if said woman had been listening to us fuck.
“Look, ma’am, it’s okay. Did you get stuck in here or something?” I asked, though I knew otherwise.
Her cheeks flushed, and the dainty little thing looked like she was about to die right in front of us. Either that or pray that the ground would open and swallow her up.
She reminded me of a nymph. All slender lines and wavy blonde hair, even if it had been slashed at the shoulders—had she done that herself? I wouldn’t ordinarily have noticed, but it was in big clumps, like she’d shorn where she could reach, then had just cut here and there. She had roots, too. Like she’d bleached it, but the roots were so dark that I could tell it would have been hard to keep blonde. Not that I was an expert in hairstyling, but fuck, I had eyes.
Her hair was as dark as mine, and I wasn’t even sure how she’d managed to color hers without it turning orange.
The short half-black, half-blonde hair didn’t suit her. Neither did the cut. I imagined her with honey-gold hair, long and wavy down to her ass, and felt my cock jerk at the prospect.
What the hell?
Even more disturbing was the sudden need I had to touch her. I couldn’t seem to stop myself from striding forward, from reaching up and cupping her chin, forcing her to look at me rather than down at the ground.
“Steven, what are you doing?” Achilles demanded, but I ignored him. Had to ignore him. Jesus, just touching her was enough to make my already sated cock surge to life once more.
Never in my many years had I responded like that to another woman. And there’d been a time when Eros had managed to shoot me in the ass! This was… Christ, this was intense.
The second my fingers had brushed her chin, her head fell back, and her eyes caught mine. They were a moody blue. Kind of like Achilles’ to be fair. Dark enough to freeze, blue enough to remind me of an expensive sapphire.
“Who are you?” she croaked, but I sensed no fear in her, only confusion.
“The same could be said of you,” Achilles snarled at my back, and even as I wanted to roll my eyes at him, I didn’t.
“Ignore Owen,” I advised. “He’s cranky after sex.”
Her cheeks, so pale and white, turned a bright shade of red at my statement—she had heard, and the way her eyes caught mine, not dropping to the ground in embarrassment, made me wonder if she’d purposely listened in as I’d initially suspected.
Though, how did you purposely listen in to someone having sex? But the way her eyes had dilated made me think listening to us had turned her on.
It was a supposition, but my instincts were strong. “This isn’t the first time you’ve heard us, is it?”
Her bottom lip quivered before she nibbled down on the tasty morsel, but that was her sole response.
I hadn’t expected her to admit to it, but I had my answer even if it was non-verbal.
A smile made my mouth curve and it had her gasping, which made my smile morph into a shit-eating grin.
“You get off on listening to two guys fuck, sugar?” I asked, dipping my chin so I could breathe the words into her ear. Her breath stuttered in her chest. “You should have told us you were here. You could have joined in.”
A gasp escaped her and I felt her hands at my chest. She pushed and pushed but I was strong, there was no way I wasn’t moving if I didn’t want to.
I did retreat though, not wanting to frighten her, and with our eyes connected, I took a step back—showing her, loud and clear, that I’d moved away because I wanted to. Not because she’d been fretting.
It might have been a dickish move, but fuck, I was a dick. And I wasn’t going to hurt her. If anything, I intended to do the exact opposite.
The way she responded to me, the way I responded to her? Hell, no pain would ever be involved in our interactions. Unless she was sore. That I could guarantee would happen.
Before I could grin again, I felt a fist smack into my shoulder. Glaring back at Achilles, I demanded, “What the fuck was that for?”
Narrowing his eyes at me, the other male gritted out, “What are you doing, Steven?”
I huffed, turned back to the woman, and asked, “What’s your name?”
She flickered a look between me and the undoubtedly scowling man behind me. “Ella.”
That had me tilting my head to the side. Not the name, but the way she’d said it. With a defiance that wasn’t usually imbued when revealing one’s given name.
“Ella,” I said, tasting the title. “What’s it short for?”
Her mouth pursed and she drew her arms up to cross them in front of her breasts — more defiance.
“Don’t like your name?”
She didn’t have to answer for me to know that was the truth. It was just an odd response. Most people changed their names if they hated it, and they didn’t, twenty-odd years later, still show a defiance over it.
This woman was more and more unusual than I first suspected, and I liked unusual. Unusual was interesting, and sometimes, I was so fucking bored I thought I’d die standing up.
Twenty-four hundred years was a long time to roam this earth. Twenty-four hundred and five was even longer…
I reached up and traced my thumb over the bottom lip of the first person to interest me in too long. It quivered and I smiled. “What is it, ó glykýtaton?”
I sensed something about this woman. Something that told me she wasn’t meek and mild like a spring day, but more like a hurricane brewing, and excited, I pressed down on her lip again.
Her eyes narrowed at me, and when she bit my thumb, I laughed even though it stung like a bitch.
Her hands went to her hips. “Look, is this what usually happens here? You guys assault unsuspecting riders?”
Achilles snorted. “Since when were you riding? Far as I can see you’re trespassing here.”
“Trespassing?” she squeaked. “I’m paying the exorb
itant rates to stay at this kook center.”
“Now, see here,” Achilles grated out, and I wasn’t surprised by his tone considering that this place was his baby, “this place helps—”
She scoffed. “If you get off on sitting around in a circle singing ‘Kum-by-yah’ then yeah, it helps. But I’m from the real world, buddy.” She pointed at her chest and bumped her finger into it—I’d finger her there too if that was an option. “Practical solutions are more my style.”
I clucked my tongue. “Now, now, ó glykýtaton, there’s no need to be angry. If it turned you on hearing me and Owen fuck, and that’s your preference where therapy is concerned, I’m certain we can be of help.”
Her cheeks burned. “This is harassment.”
“Technically, you’re the one harassing us,” Achilles pointed out, and I didn’t need to turn back to know he’d folded his arms across his chest, mimicking her stance.
“How does that work?”
“You’re the one listening in on us.”
“And I was standing in a very public place.” She huffed.
“The stable isn’t open after six,” Achilles retorted, and I stood there, in the middle of their bickering, amused and horny as hell. “That means you’re trespassing even if you are a guest. And I’m not even sure if you are a guest, I mean, I don’t recognize you or your name.”
“Well, I am. You can ask anyone on the staff.”
“I run the damn place,” Achilles snapped. “I know everyone here. No Ellas are residing here at the moment.”
Her left eye twitched.
“What is it, kallísti?”
Her mouth pursed.
“I’m going to call the police—”
She huffed at Achilles’ warning. “My full name is Cinderella.”
My eyes widened and I rolled my lips in to hide a smile. She still saw it though and glowered at me harder.
“You have a problem with my name, buddy?” she snapped.
“No. No problem,” I quickly told her, lifting my hands in surrender.
“Cinderella DiStefano?” Achilles inquired, his tone still suspicious.
“You mean there’s more than one goddamn Cinderella staying here but zero Ellas?” she snapped back and with another huff, she slipped out from in front of me and started down the stable corridor toward the exit.
The Sun Revolves Around Apollo (The Gods Are Back In Town Book 2) Page 2
