by Kelly, Holly
“Your being paraplegic has nothing to do with it,” Xanthus said with ragged breath.
“Oh really? Then what do you mean you couldn’t kiss me in my condition?” She slapped her hand against his chest.
He paused for a moment. “You were vulnerable. Your call from your mother upset you and it was wrong of me to take advantage of you in that state.”
“Oh. So you weren’t talking about my physical condition?”
“Sara, you’re beautiful whether you walk on two feet, ride on wheels, or any other possibilities. Nothing changes that fact.”
Her heart leapt at the chance that he was telling the truth. Could he accept her the way she was? “But what if my legs are horribly deformed?” She lowered her head and pressed her forehead into his shoulder.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re beautiful to me.” Gently, he lowered her into the wheelchair.
Sara immediately pressed the blanket firmly in place. She noticed Mr. Dimitriou’s hair was sticking up in odd places, his shirt was rumpled, and his brows furrowed. He looked incredible.
“Listen, would you do something for me?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“Will you promise me you’ll be careful? Don’t go anywhere alone after dark. Keep that pepper spray handy when you’re out even in the daylight. And if you need me, please call me anytime day or night.” Xanthus snatched a pad and pen from next to her phone, scribbling out his phone number.
“Do you have a cell?” he asked.
“Well, no, but if my business keeps growing, I’ll be able to afford one in a couple of months.”
“I’ll bring you one tomorrow.”
“Listen, I appreciate all you’ve done, but you can’t keep spending money on me. I’m not a child. I can take care of myself,” she said with her chin up.
“Please Sara, for my peace of mind. Let me get you a cell phone. Let’s just consider it included it in your rent.” He tensed, waiting for her answer.
Sara didn’t like accepting help. She’d worked hard for her independence. But she knew she would feel safer knowing help was only a phone call away. “Okay Mr. Dimitriou, but I think I’m already paying way below what I should be, considering the amount of upgrades you’re putting into my apartment.” She immediately regretted what she said. What would she do if he did raise her rent?
“You let me worry about the expenses of the building. Your job is simply to pay your rent. And please, call me Xanthus. I think that kiss put us way past calling each other Mr. Dimitriou and Miss Taylor.”
He looked at her lips and sighed. “I have to go. Just let me know when to pick you up tomorrow and I’ll see you then.” He leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, and then he was gone.
“Xanthus.” Sara whispered his name as she pressed her fingers to her lips and smiled.
***
Xanthus slung his backpack over his shoulders, climbed on his motorcycle, and started his drive out to the warehouse dock. He raised his face into the light rainfall and breathed in a lungful of clean air.
What had he been thinking? His plan had never included kissing her. His control was already in threads. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be the one hunted down. As it stood now, if he were caught, he was already looking at ten years hard labor. He should walk away—pretend he’d never met Sara.
He just couldn’t do it. Not only was she a risk of exposure for Dagonians that he could not leave unguarded, but she was also an innocent, a helpless female who was completely unaware of the axe hanging over her head. Xanthus had always prided himself on his abilities as a warrior. But even he didn’t know if he could protect Sara from that axe dropping. He was sickened when he thought of what fate awaited her if she were ever discovered.
It was her eyes. They were the dead giveaway to what she was. Those eyes. He shuddered thinking of them. They were beautiful, bewitching—like a sea goddess. But hers weren’t the eyes of a goddess, but those of a half-human, half-Dagonian girl.
Xanthus shook himself. Now was not the time to think of beautiful females. He needed to get his mind on tonight’s job. Lives depended on the success of tonight’s mission.
He pulled up a private road and turned off into an almost indiscernible path through the foliage. He drove his bike in as far as he could, turned off the engine, and hiked into the trees. Being a moonless night, it was black as pitch for a human, but Xanthus saw as well in the darkest of nights as during the daylight. The shoreline came into view as he passed through the palm trees. At the water’s edge, he dropped his pack in the sand and stripped out of his clothing. Grabbing his pack, he entered the water and submerged.
He surfaced under the dock and listened for footfalls above. He heard nothing but the chirping of several birds. He took hold of the wooden dock and pulled himself up to peer above. No one was about. He hefted his body out of the warm water into the cool night air. It breezed over him as he lay on the hard, wooden dock.
Several minutes later, his cloaked figure moved on. Light poles above forced him into the shadows. He made his way between several brick buildings to a large warehouse backed up against the shore. He knew that a ship was at the dock, waiting to be loaded before it disembarked. He also knew there were four security guards, armed only with clubs.
With his back against the cement foundation of the large, metal warehouse, Xanthus pulled his pack off his back and removed a small, black disk the size of his palm. He pressed it against the side of the building and pushed a small, red button to activate it.
Xanthus repeated the process on each of the four outside walls of the building. Then he crept across the gangplank and attached another disk against the side of the ship. With the devices in place, it was time to locate the guards.
“But I only have a little left to do on your curtains and then they’re done.” Sara scowled.
Gretchen pushed her through the doors of Macy’s Department Store. Perfume floated in the air around them as Gretchen steered her toward the women’s clothing section.
“Girl, this is a much more pressing matter. This is your first date since I’ve known you, and knowing you, it’s your first date—ever.”
Sara didn’t disagree, even though it was no longer true. “So.” Sara frowned. “Just because I have a date tonight, I have to buy new clothes?”
“No, you have to buy new clothes because you need something appropriate to wear. Don’t get me wrong, your clothes are cute, but we’re going to the concert hall. It’s an occasion to dress up. Besides, you need something special to wow Shane Adams.”
“It’s Xanthus,” Sara said.
“Xanthus? Sounds Greek. So what’s his last name again?”
“Dimitriou.”
“Ooo... he is Greek. I still can’t believe you’re dating your landlord. Do you think he’ll lower your rent now that you’re lip-locking?”
“We are not dating. This is one date. And he is not lowering my rent.” She had to put her foot down somewhere.
“No denial of the lip-locking? You kissed him, didn’t you?” Gretchen’s eyes were wide as she smiled.
“He kissed me actually.” Sara felt her face heat. That was a testament to how little experience she had—that she would blush just because someone had kissed her. Gretchen had told many more colorful stories about her love life and she had never blushed.
“Oh, wow. We are so getting you a killer dress for tonight. One that shows some skin.” Gretchen plowed on through to the women’s department.
“No. No showing skin.” Sara shook her head.
“How are you going to wow him without showing him some skin?” Gretchen stopped next to a display rack, pulled a yellow, strapless sundress up to her body, and gazed in a nearby mirror.
“Why do I need to wow him?”
“Girl, you have a lot to learn about men.” Gretchen held the dress up to Sara. “I don’t know. I think this yellow washes you out. Let’s see what you look like in blue.” She pulled a shiny, navy blue dress off the rack.
“I don’t like my blues that dark,” Sara said. “Besides, I don’t think that style is me.”
“You’re so not going in a muumuu.”
“I don’t wear muumuus.”
“Not technically, but you do tend to cover yourself. It wouldn’t hurt you to show a little more skin.”
“How about I wear a bikini top?”
“No need for sarcasm.” Gretchen held up a white, sequined dress with spaghetti straps and a deep V-neck, practically down to the waist. “Oh, look at this dress. If you wear this, you’ll have to bring along a crash cart. This’ll stop Shane Adams’s heart.”
“I don’t think so. How about we find something with a little more fabric?” Sara suggested and wheeled toward a dress rack.
“Wow, look at this. I love this color.” Sara pulled a shimmery, aqua blue, wraparound dress off a hanger. “It’s sleeveless. Does that show enough skin?” Sara held it up for Gretchen’s expert inspection.
“Not as much as I’d like, but the dress is amazing. And I think you like that blue so much because it’s the exact color of your eyes.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Sara wheeled into the general direction of the dressing rooms.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” Gretchen propped her hand on her hip.
Sara stopped and wheeled back around. “I was going to try it on. Is there something wrong with that?”
“Girl, you can’t try on only one thing. Let’s find a few more to compare.”
“Oh good grief, you always make shopping for clothes a big event.”
“It is a big event. One you should enjoy more. Now come on. Let’s keep looking.”
Two hours and four changing sessions later, Sara paid for the blue dress. Gretchen pushed her chair away from the checkout counter. “I sure hate to use this thing.” Sara put her credit card back in her purse.
“I’m sure you do. What is your balance on that thing?” Gretchen paused to pick up a sample perfume bottle. She sniffed it, sprayed a little on her fingertips, and dabbed behind her ears.
“Ninety-nine dollars and ninety-eight cents,” Sara answered.
Gretchen laughed. “Was this your first purchase on that card? How long have you had it?”
“Yes, it’s my first purchase, and I’ve only had it for six months.” Sara sighed. “I shouldn’t have used it. It’s going to take me forever to pay off the charges.”
“Girl, you look amazing in that dress. It’s definitely worth it. Maybe you should tell Shane to bring a bib. He’s going to be drooling all over himself.”
Sara rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“No, really,” Gretchen said. “You should show off your curves more often. You have such a tiny waist, and with breasts your size, you look like a Barbie doll. Women pay thousands and thousands of dollars trying to get a figure like yours, and you hide yours under T-shirts. It’s practically criminal.”
“Where are we going?” Sara realized they were moving past a line of retail stores inside the mall’s atrium, when they should have been in the parking lot.
“To get your hair done.”
“No. No way. I already spent too much money on the dress. There is no way I’m getting my hair done.”
“Sara, I’ll pay. Let’s just call it payment for my draperies.”
“Draperies that aren’t even done yet.”
“Oh, I trust that you’ll finish them. Now I know this hairdresser. He’s a legend. And he also happens to be my date for the night, which is why he agreed to do your hair on such short notice. He didn’t want to have to look at bad hair all evening.”
“Very funny. And I thought all male hairdressers were gay.”
“That is so not true.” Sara looked doubtful.
“Okay,” Gretchen said. “Maybe it’s true for most, but not Hal. I think he just likes playing with women’s hair. Personally, he’s completely straight.”
“Okay, but no matter what he says, I’m not going short. I like my hair long.”
“You like to be able to hide behind your hair. It’s like your own personal curtain. But I agree. Your hair is gorgeous long. I think you could use some layers though to give your hair shape.”
“Hair has shape? Who knew hair had shape?
“Hair definitely has shape.” Gretchen laid Sara’s doubts to rest.
“All right, I’ll get my stupid hair done. But I’m doing my own makeup tonight.”
“No argument there. Your skin is perfect and your makeup always looks fine, when you wear makeup.”
“Okay, let’s get this over with,” Sara said as Gretchen wheeled her through the doors.
A short, sandy blond man with a lanky build and amazing green eyes stepped forward and gave Gretchen a peck on the lips. “Gretchen, you look stunning, as always.”
“Hal, you always know how to make a girl feel special.”
So this was Hal. He was just a few inches taller than Gretchen’s five feet. Sara hoped he wasn’t self-conscious about his height. Next to Xanthus, everyone seemed miniature.
Hal looked down at Sara. “Oh, Gretchen, you told me how much potential she had but I had no idea until now.”
Sara wasn’t sure how to take being talked about in third person when she was sitting right there in front of him.
“You’re beautiful, Sara.” Okay, maybe she could forgive him for his lack of manners. “With my help, you’ll be a goddess.” He reached out, lifted her hair, and let it cascade through his fingers.
Sara wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Um… thank you?”
“What kind of products do you use?” Hal continued to run his fingers through her hair. Gretchen was right. He really liked playing with women’s hair.
“Um, strawberry-scented VO5 shampoo.”
“And?”
“And a hairdryer?”
“You’re joking.” His eyes brushed over her hair as he inspected it. “Your hair has a softness and natural shine that I’ve never seen before. You wouldn’t believe how much effort it takes to get a shine close to yours. How long has it been since you colored it?”
“Um, I don’t color it.” She shook her head.
“Amazing. The color is incredible, black as midnight. With the right cut, it’ll be stunning. We just have to keep it long. I couldn’t bring myself to cut off so much perfection.”
He draped a smock over Sara, wheeled her in front of a mirror, pulled out his scissors, and began to snip. Hal’s scissors danced over her hair. Like confetti, little clumps of hair began to fall.
Sara closed her eyes and enjoyed the gentle snipping and soft tugs on her hair. In the background, the soft chatter of voices and the sound of the television played for those who actually had to wait for their appointment.
A news program ran and a man’s voice hummed in the background, “Famous deep-sea diver, Josh Talbot, has been missing for over twenty-four hours and is presumed dead. He was last seen diving off the coast of Sicily. Searchers have yet to locate his body.” Sara shuddered at the thought of him drowning at sea. “We’ve just received breaking new from the west shore. Let’s go to Amanda, who is on the scene.”
Sara opened her eyes, looked at the screen, and saw an inferno. “There has been a massive explosion at Roc Manufacturing on the west shore of Oahu. Firefighters are attempting to contain the inferno, but so far, the winds are fueling the flames. It appears that no one was injured. Four security guards on duty were found unconscious but otherwise unharmed on the south side of the complex. It’s not clear what happened to them or what the source of the explosion was. Hopefully, we will have a statement from them soon.”
“Wow,” Sara said. “That’s pretty scary.”
Gretchen sat down on a swivel chair next to Sara. Her eyes drifted over the television screen absently. “Yeah, it’s really sad. But I’m not going to let anything dampen the mood of your first date, Sara. We are going to have a wonderful time and there’s to be no talk of explosions tonight. Speculate all you
want tomorrow.”
Sara smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Triton exploded in a rage. His fists slammed into every sculpture, every wall, and every lifeless marble figure surrounding him. All but one.
He couldn’t bring himself to shatter the beautiful face, the image that had put him into this fury. This statue was created by goddess and former friend, Aphrodite, and had been sent to him as a gift. It was another attempt of hers to heal his heart. You’d think she’d have given up after two thousand years.
As young children, Aphrodite had been a special friend of his and had had a tremendous effect on him. She’d woven her magic into his heart and into his life. As cousins, they were very close—as close as any brother or sister. As the goddess of love and procreation, she’d showered him with gifts of attractiveness, charm, and magnetism so powerful that it was the rare human female that was able to resist him.
He’d basked in the attention he got from beautiful women and had fathered many merchildren. The women were a temporary diversion, but the children were never forgotten. At birth, he would steal them away from their mothers and bring them into his kingdom to raise them.
They were his most perfect creations. He loved each one, daughter and son alike, but their petty problems and irresponsibility pushed him to the brink of insanity. It was that irresponsibility that led to their demise.
Because they chose to mock Poseidon, they were the makers of their own destruction. Still, Triton had loved them as much as any father and he’d do anything in order to have his children returned to him.
If only he could snatch them from the clutches of Hades. But Hades did not give up those in his domain without a steep price. Triton had tried bargaining with him countless times. Each time, Hades refused. Now the King of the Underworld wouldn’t even agree to see him.
Triton looked up at this latest gift from Aphrodite. It was an especially painful jab—the image of a woman best forgotten. It was a reminder of his one great slip that could have brought him infinitely more pain. Who was he lying to? She had brought him more pain. Her memory brought him pain even now.
