Hearts and Arrows Box Set

by Staci Hart

  “Well, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about you in this room.”

  “That so?” He slipped a hand into her hair.

  “Mmhmm,” she said through a smile.

  “Well, you’ve got me here now through my recovery. What should we do?”

  “I don’t know.” She looked up and shook her head. “The doctors said very clearly ‘no strenuous activity.’”

  “Guess that means you’ll have to do all the heavy lifting,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

  She ran her hands up his chest and wound them around his neck. “Oh, I don’t mind that at all.”

  “Goddamn, I love you,” he said smiling as he bent down to meet her lips.

  And with that, she kissed him until they were both breathless.

  ———— Olympus ————

  Dita looked over the top of her couch when the elevator dinged to find Athena walking through her foyer, her heels clicking on the hardwood. Her glossy, blond hair was short in a pixie cut, her red lips smiling curtly against her porcelain skin. She looked tailored and powerful in high-waisted black slacks and a white button-down, like she could walk into a board room and eat a dozen CEOs whole.

  “Hello, Athena.”

  “Hello, Aphrodite. I hope I find you well.”

  Dita put down her worn copy of one of her favorite Viking romance novels and smiled. “Quite. And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “May I?” Athena motioned to an arm chair, and Dita nodded. “Thank you.” She took a seat, crossing her long legs. “I wanted to come by before our competition starts. Shake hands, as it were.”

  “Ah, good form. Have you chosen your player yet?”

  “I have, and I’m optimistic.”

  Dita chuckled. “That’s what they all say.”

  “Yes, but I’m one of the few who makes you work for your win.” Athena’s blue eyes sparkled. “Oh, and we haven’t spoken much since you’ve been back. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for what Ares did to you. I suppose none of us should be surprised at my brother’s behavior, but really. He outdid himself.”

  “Yes, well … thank you. I appreciate the thought. I shouldn’t have expected more from him.”

  “We all do, especially Zeus. Expectations are an impossible thing. You can’t help but want those you love to rise above and earn the love you’ve given them. Because we all love him, in a way. Just far less than how we hate him.” The words were as practical and matter-of-fact as the goddess who spoke them.

  “You speak in truth and wisdom, Athena,” Dita said lightly.

  “Yes, I do. It is my blessing as it is my curse.” She stood and extended her hand. “May the best woman win.”

  Dita shook her hand with a smile. “I always do.”

  Epilogue

  SWEAT ROLLED DOWN HEPHAESTUS’ BARE back and chest as he stood over his forge in the near dark. The only light in the room glowed orange and white from the coal fire inside the stone pit, and he stood at the edge, holding a crucible with metal tongs over the fire, waiting as the gold inside bent and softened, melting into a pool of white-hot liquid.

  He knew the moment before it was ready, and stepped away to pour the molten gold into a bar mold. He leaned against his workbench as he waited for the metal to cool, staring into the coals, the familiarity of the room comforting, a place where he’d found solace for thousands of years.

  Dita crossed his mind as she so often did, and he wondered what she was doing, when he would see her again. The competition had taken a toll on all of them, each round a domino that fell into the next, a chain reaction that had Olympus and their lives turned around and upside down. But through the pain and the hurt, things were changing, and in a way that would alter everything.

  He saw her in the fire, closed his eyes and pictured her smiling. Saw her free. For so long he had wished for her happiness, and he could see it in her eyes.

  She was changed, and her change brought him hope.

  Heff turned to the mold, picked up the bar, and laid it in the coals until it was hot and soft. He grabbed it with his tongs and laid it on his anvil, picking up his hammer to pound the metal out. When it cooled, he took it back to the coals to heat it again, repeating the process until the gold was flat. He moved it to his vice, slipped the end in and tightened it, rested a small bar inside and hammered the end to bend it around the rod until the circle of the ring was almost complete. He reached for his small metal saw to trim the excess.

  The ring was for Daphne, commissioned by Apollo, to be inscribed in Greek, “My soul, my life I give to thee.” He would ask for her hand, and she would agree, and their union would be an event where they could all find joy, a date that would move them all forward, past the pain of decisions made long before. Heff was honored to be part of their bond, to forge the ring to bind their love. The ring that would join them after so much waiting and suffering.

  He heated the ring again and banged it with his hammer to close the gap. As he watched it cool, watched it fuse together to close the circle, to make a whole, he thought of his wife who wasn’t his wife, who he had loved for eternity. Who hated him at first, hot and angry as the molten gold. Who loved him when she cooled. But he could never close that gap, and she stayed just far enough away that he couldn’t reach her, the space between them so small but impossible to breach.

  As he filed down the seam, it disappeared as if it were never there, as if the circle was just as it had been for eternity. It was the union, the creation of a whole from what was once two, separate points, a circular path that went on forever. It would be Apollo and Daphne’s future, and hope sparked in his heart when he thought of Aphrodite, wondering if his chance was finally near, if she could be his.

  Prologue

  THE FIRST TIME JOSIE EVER saw Jon Landreaux, was in the Midtown South station on a rainy spring afternoon. He stood at the processing counter with his broad back to her, leather jacket dotted with rain, wet hair hanging around his collar. She slowed to a stop at the sight of him just as he turned, like he’d sensed her there. When his eyes met hers — the eyes she’d find herself looking into so many times over the years that would follow — the room went a little dim, the noise of the busy police station dialing down as they stood there staring like fools.

  When time started again, everything moved faster for a split second, finally catching up as she unstuck her feet and made her way up to the counter. Keeping her cool hadn’t been easy, not with every nerve in her body tuned to his frequency. It might have been one of the stranger moments in her life, which was saying something.

  She’d leaned on the counter with her eyes ahead, pretending he wasn’t there even though she was aware of every detail, particularly his eyes locked on her. But ignoring him seemed so much easier than acknowledging him.

  Jon had other plans.

  He tossed a joking, “Come here often?” at her and introduced himself. She was overwhelmed by him and spent the majority of the conversation trying to stay on her toes through soft smiles and sparking eyes. The contact from shaking his hand sent a little chill crawling up her neck as she wondered just who in the world he was.

  When they realized they were both private investigators, she was even more intrigued, and when he asked for her number — to work together, of course — she admittedly got her hopes up. He was beautiful — tall and dark with crisp, blue eyes, and a crooked smile, the whole package topped off with a Southern drawl that turned her brains and knees into oatmeal.

  But see, it was never meant to be.

  The first job they worked together brought with it the knowledge that he had a girlfriend who he’d been living with for years. Josie played it off like she wasn’t hurt, and why would she be? He was charming in that way that you were never quite sure of his intentions, so she assumed he was like that with everyone, an assumption proved true when he was around her partner, Anne. He was a flirt, a shameless flirt who charmed women without putting any real thought or effo
rt into it.

  But the flirting felt different with her. Or maybe she just thought it did because she wanted him. Either way, she did her best to ignore it. His help on jobs was too much to pass by, and over the years, they became friends. Sort of. For Josie, there was always an ever-present undercurrent of desire, but she’d convinced herself that it was one-sided. Jon was a tease, and she was a sucker. It was nothing more than that. It couldn’t be, not with her heart at stake. Because if anyone held the power to hurt her, it was Jon.

  Sinking Ship

  JOSIE’S STILETTOS ECHOED IN THE marble entryway of the hotel lobby, calling the attention of the eyes in the opulent room. Heads turned, following her as she made her way into the posh bar, her designer dress climbing her thighs with each step.

  She crossed the threshold to the quiet, dimly lit bar, flipping her long, red hair over her shoulder as she scanned the room. Her earpiece crackled.

  “Hot damn, woman. Your legs are about a mile long in that dress. It’s no wonder every eye in the place is on you.” Jon’s drawl shot straight into her ear, sending goosebumps up her arms.

  She found Jon in a dark corner, leaning back with his elbow hooked on the back of the chair. His shirtsleeves were rolled over his elbows, and his suit vest was buttoned up, defining the taper of his waist. But even dressed like he was, he looked casual. And rich. And most definitely hot. He raised his glass with that sideways smile on his face, and her lips pulled into a little smile. With a shake of her head, she looked away.

  Working with Jon was never easy, given her attraction to him, but it was most definitely necessary. Sometimes she and Anne needed help from a man for a ruse, and sometimes just for another set of eyes on a job. Anne was a little trigger happy when it came to calling Jon in for help, always innocent about her intentions. But Josie knew it was bullshit. She’d never admitted to Anne that she liked him, but Josie never had to say it out loud. Anne knew and was on a mission to drag the confession out of her.

  Refusing to help Jon meant admitting to Anne that she liked him. But she couldn’t like him. There was no having him. So she stuffed her feelings down and smiled, endured all the comments and lingering looks because she was a professional, goddammit. And Jon was her friend.

  Most of the time, she was sure she was just being crazy, as if because she was attracted to him, she took him all wrong, made something out of nothing. But his encouragement was unbearable. He had a knack for turning her on and pissing her off all at the same time.

  He’s just a flirt. He loves her. Get your shit together.

  Josie’s gaze roamed the room, finding her mark at the bar. The French con man leaned on the bar top in an expensive suit, tanned and blond with a smile like a beacon, calling attention from across the room. He was a perfect specimen to lure in the ladies, which was his game. His version of a magic trick was to make women’s panties and wallets disappear, and Josie’s client had been a victim of his charms. She’d hired Josie to find out the truth, and armed with a wire between her breasts, a video camera in her purse, and a tracking bug, Josie was ready to do just that. There was a bonus in it for her if she could get enough to take to the cops.

  The Frenchman angled toward a mildly attractive woman at the bar who smiled like she’d won the lottery. Too bad she didn’t know that the con man thought the same thing. Josie dropped her chin, ready to wreck the party, smiling seductively as she walked a tight line to the bar in her stilettos. She squeezed in next to him and laid her clutch down, pointing the camera at him as she bumped him intentionally with her hip.

  “Vrai idiot!” he shot, shifting to avoid spilling his drink on himself. He turned to her with irritation all over his face, but the look melted into a smile as his eyes made their way down her body.

  “Oh my God,” Josie said with a heavy southern twang, and her hand flew to her mouth. “I am just so sorry!” She grabbed a few cocktail napkins and blotted shamelessly high on his thigh. “Lord, I am such a klutz. Here, let me buy you another drink.”

  “Oh, no. It is no problem.” He turned to fully face Josie, the girl next to him forgotten. She pouted and shot Josie an ugly look before she picked up her drink and stormed off.

  You’re welcome, Josie thought as she batted her eyelashes at the rat. “Please, I insist.” She slipped a hand around his forearm, and he leaned forward, smiling. “What are you drinkin’, darlin’?”

  “Crown and Coke.”

  Josie leaned onto the bar, sticking her ass out a little, not missing him lean back to check her out. “Excuse me, honey,” she waved behind the bar. “Could I get a Crown and Coke and a dirty martini?”

  “Sure thing,” the bartender answered.

  She called after him, “Make it real dirty. Like, so dirty, you gotta slap it.”

  “You got it,” the bartender said with a wink.

  Josie took a seat next to the con man as the bartender made their drinks. He was a looker, that was for sure, with brilliant blue eyes and long lashes. Josie didn’t have to wonder twice why women threw their wallets at him. “Thanks for letting me get you back. I swear, I’m lucky I don’t break a leg walking in these things.” She extended her foot and wiggled it, watching him look down the line of her leg to her shoe.

  He took his time appraising her before looking up with smoldering eyes. “What is your name?”

  “Sharon. Pleased to meet you.” Josie stuck out her hand to shake, but he turned it over to kiss her knuckles. She fought the urge to roll her eyes, opting for a breathy giggle instead. “Well, aren’t you a gentleman.”

  He smirked. “Chivalry is not dead. I am Jerome.”

  Sure you are.

  The bartender set their drinks down, and Josie picked up her martini, smiling. “Well, Jerome, cheers to that.”

  They brought their glasses together with a clink and took a sip.

  Josie set her martini down and ran her thumb and forefinger up and down the stem of the glass. “So your accent is … French? How did you end up in New York?”

  His eyes were on her fingers. “Oui, I am French. I came here on vacation and fell in love with New York one year ago. I only wish I could stay.” He looked down into his drink, playing at forlorn.

  She frowned and shifted to press her knees against the outside of his thigh. “Oh, sugar. Why do you have to go?”

  “Well, you see, my visa is expiring.”

  Josie leaned forward to rest a hand on his knee. “Well, if that’s not the saddest thing. I wonder how I can help?”

  He covered her hand with his own, shaking his head with a smile. “No, no, Mademoiselle, but you do not even know me. Why would you want to help me?”

  She shrugged and leaned back, reaching for her drink again. “I just can’t stand to see anyone in pain. It’s my curse. Mama always used to gripe because I’d bring home every stray puppy I came across. I just have to help.”

  His eyes lit up. “What a kind soul you are. And so beautiful. You are like an angel.”

  She pushed her hair over her shoulder and giggled. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve got a real streak of the devil in me, or at least that’s what my Grandmama always said.”

  Anne’s voice popped into her earpiece. “Oh my God, you did not just say that.”

  Josie took another sip of her martini, trying not to laugh. “So, Jerome, when do you have to leave? I hope it’s not too soon.” She pulled the olive spear out of her drink and slipped it in her mouth, pulling the olive off with her teeth.

  He stared at her lips as he wet his own. “Oui, very soon. I am afraid that I only have a few days left in New York.”

  She frowned and shook her head. “My, that’s just terrible. What a shame. What do you have to do to stay?”

  “Well, I can renew my visa for five thousand dollars, but you see, I have not been able to save quite enough.”

  Josie smiled slyly. “That’s all? Well, honey, I don’t want to offend you, but I believe I can help.”

  “But how?”

  She tw
isted in her seat and reached for her purse. “I have quite a bit of foldin’ money stashed away just burnin’ a hole in my pocket. Let me help you, and maybe you can help me.” She winked at him as she pulled her checkbook out and scribbled out the amount.

  “Oh?”

  She leaned a little closer and placed the check in his hand. “Well, you see, I have this…appetite, do you know what I mean?”

  He swallowed. “I believe that I do.”

  “Not many men can keep up with me. Think you might be up to the challenge?”

  He slipped to the edge of his seat to lay a hand into the curve of her waist. “Oui,” he breathed and leaned closer.

  Whoa, there. Josie laid a hand on his shoulder and leaned back a hair to keep him from kissing her. “My, I love that accent of yours.”

  He smiled. “Yours as well.”

  Her nerves fired, and she realized Jon was behind her. The sensation always took her by surprise, even though it happened every time he was near.

  His voice rumbled as he growled. “My God, Sharon. What in the hell are you doin’?”

  She turned, feigning surprise with her mouth in an ‘o,’ not missing a flash of amusement from behind Jon’s blue eyes. “Cletus! You weren’t supposed to be down here for hours.”

  “Well, I’m here now,” Annoyance flitted across Jon’s face, his jaw set in a line that made her squeeze her thighs together. “And who the hell are you?” he asked the con man. “And what the hell is that?” He snatched the check up with a pop.

  “Well, you see —” He smiled like he had a story to tell, but his eyes shifted, looking for an out.

  Jon slipped his hand around her arm, shaking his head as he glared down at her. “Come on, woman. I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you throwin’ yourself all over some poor fella at a bar.” He glanced down at the check and rolled his eyes. “Five thousand dollars? Good God. Get your ass up.”