* * *
“Feeling better, Mrs. Cavanaugh?”
Ellie’s eyes snapped up, her hand poised to unlock the doors to Nik’s private office suite.
The front section consisted of a small but comfortable waiting area just inside the entrance, her desk and equipment, and a cleverly concealed and fully stocked kitchenette. Farther back, against the outer walls of the building, were Nik’s private office and a conference room with digital technology so advanced it hadn’t even hit the general market yet. There were three other such areas on this floor, one at each cardinal compass point, each belonging to an executive vice president like Nik Deimos.
She looked up into the perfect face of her employer. His sparkling, intense golden eyes, radiant skin, and full male lips commanded her instant and complete attention. Did this man ever not look like a photoshopped cover of GQ?
That errant thought was followed by one not nearly as pleasant. Her boss had made it into the office before she had.
She glanced down at her watch, finding it was well before his usual arrival time.
What was he doing? In the three months she had been working here, he had never once come in prior to the official scheduled start of the work day. Granted, she was moving slower than normal, but she had taken that into account and left early to ensure she would still have plenty of time for her morning rituals.
“Mr. Deimos, what are you doing here?”
A slight quirk of those perfect lips made her lick hers reflexively. The resulting sting as her cracked, wind-ravaged lips protested broke the spell and allowed her to wrench her gaze away.
“I work here, Mrs. Cavanaugh. I should think you would be aware of that by now.”
The slightest hint of a blush crept over her features. “Yes, sir.”
Her boss stepped to the side to allow her entry, but not by much. Ellie was forced to pull her arms in tightly and angle herself sideways to avoid brushing against him.
Looking at the perfection that was Nikolaos Deimos was one thing, but touching was something else entirely.
To her great surprise, he moved toward the kitchenette and poured her a cup of coffee. She stared at it in mild shock, but made no move to take it from him.
“You do drink coffee, do you not, Mrs. Cavanaugh?”
“Not usually at the office, sir,” she answered honestly.
“Why not?” He practically shoved the mug into her hands until she had no choice but to take it. Then he leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms casually in front of his chest.
She really wished he would stop looking at her so intently. Her entire body felt warm, and that simply would not do.
“The employee lounge is down on the first floor, and to be honest, sir, the coffee there isn’t good enough to make the effort.” Her eyes widened and she clamped her lips shut, mortified that she had spoken with such candor. It was so unlike her, yet it was as if she couldn’t help herself when she was around him.
His gaze intensified. He had such beautiful eyes, like burnished gold. Clearly her eyesight had not fully returned to normal because, for a moment, she could have sworn they were glowing.
“Is what you prepare for me below your standards, Mrs. Cavanaugh?”
“What? No, of course not, sir,” she said quickly.
“Then, from now on, you will make use of these facilities and whatever is in them. Do you understand?”
She blinked several times. Why was he being so kind to her? Did he feel badly that she had been injured during her feeble rescue attempt? What was next, a key to the executive washroom?
“Do you understand, Mrs. Cavanaugh?” he repeated.
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
Inwardly, Nik breathed a small sigh of relief. For several long moments, it had appeared as though she might refuse. He was floored, quite frankly. All this time, he had assumed that she, like everyone else, felt her position entitled her to the same perks as the executives. The fact that she prepared the superior gourmet blends for him and his associates yet partook of none herself was both unexpected and puzzling.
He looked pointedly at the mug in her hands, the one she had yet to lift to her lips. “Drink, Mrs. Cavanaugh. I am quite sure it is not the ambrosia you manage to brew every day, but I assure you, you will come to no harm because of it.”
Looking as though she half expected him to sprout horns and breathe fire—which he could do, if he was so inclined, though he much preferred his wings—she lifted the cup to her lips and took the tiniest of sips. Then she closed her eyes and took another. Of course, she had no idea he had added actual ambrosia to the coffee. Just a drop since mortals were especially susceptible to its effects, but it was enough.
Nik smiled, allowing just a hint of his power to suffuse the area around them.
“Do you find it sufficiently palatable?” he asked.
“Yes. Very much, sir.” She looked at him shyly from beneath her thick lashes.
The brown contacts were back in place, he noticed. It was disappointing. Now that he knew the true beauty of her eyes, anything else was unacceptable.
“Why do you wear them?” he asked suddenly.
“Sir?”
“Those horrid contact lenses that make your eyes look like mud,” he clarified.
The unusual softness of her features drained away, replaced by that damn professional mask. “That is a very personal question, Mr. Deimos.”
Nik crossed his arms, saying nothing. There was no need to restate the obvious. It was a personal question, and one he supposed that, as her boss, he had no right to ask. Then again, Nik never really was one to follow the inane rules of office decorum, hence the difficulty in finding a PA willing to work with him.
Instead of answering, Ellie continued to hold his gaze for several long moments until she finally said, “Thank you for the coffee, sir.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re welcome, Mrs. Cavanaugh.”
Then she did the most amazing thing of all. She turned on her heel and walked back to her desk, coffee in hand.
* * *
The dull throb at the back of her head had miraculously ceased. The stiffness in her neck was gone, too. As a matter of fact, she felt wonderful.
Her boss had barely left her side all morning. Four continuous hours of hearing that deep, sensual voice. Of inhaling that fabulous masculine scent that made her think of ancient warriors and sunshine and sea. Of feeling the heat radiating from his lean, muscular body every time he leaned over her to point something out.
By the time his lunch appointment arrived, she was almost relieved. Spending so much time so close to the likes of Nikolaos Deimos was akin to gorging on chocolate cake while lying on a tropical beach, sipping frozen drinks. She needed a reality break.
Ellie used the opportunity to make a quick trip to the ladies’ room.
The reflection that looked back at her ensured that nothing had changed, at least not outwardly. Her hair was still neatly pulled back into a bun, and her sensible charcoal gray business attire was just as plain and professional as it had been when she had put it on that morning.
When she leaned over the sink, however, and looked more closely, she noticed her skin was more radiant than usual, and her eyes were a bit brighter beneath those awful contact lenses.
Ellie left the ladies’ room with her head down, just in case someone noticed. She needn’t have bothered, though. No one even spared her a glance.
Chapter 5
Nik barely heard anything Phantasos was saying. He was too distracted, peering through the vertical blinds along the glass that separated his office from Ellie’s space. She was at her desk, as always, her head inclined toward the screen in front of her, though it had long since reverted to the standard company logo screensaver—a bold outline of Mytikas, the highest peak of Mt. Olympus. Nik knew that the other personal assistants got together for lunch at least once a week, but Ellie was never among them. He wondered if that was a conscious choice on her pa
rt or a deliberate snub on theirs.
Occasionally, she would dip a plastic fork into a small cup and bring a few soggy-looking noodles to her lips, but her gaze never strayed. Whatever she was thinking had garnered her full attention.
“Ramen noodles, manna of the modern-day college student,” Phantasos said with a grimace, following Nik’s gaze and abandoning his tales of Mike Bacchalakis, Dionysus to those who knew his true heritage, and his latest orgy. “Stuff tastes like shit.”
“Why eat it, then?” Nik asked, genuinely curious.
Phantasos, appearing on the appointment calendar as Phil Atos from the company’s Thessaly branch, shrugged. “Because you can eat for a week on a couple bucks. What are you paying her, anyway?”
“Clearly, not enough.” Nik took in the inexpensive polyester blend outfit, poorly crafted shoes, and lack of accessories. The other PAs were usually clad in professional business attire of designer silks and Louboutins. They sported stylish cuts and professional gel manicures. Ellie pulled her chemically-untouched dark hair into a neat bun at the nape of her neck and kept her nails short and natural. He wondered if perhaps that was why she chose to eat in solitude rather than join the others for their weekly jaunts out to some of the trendier restaurants catering to upscale corporate clientele.
“She is rather an intriguing creature, isn’t she?” Phantasos mused, his eyes momentarily becoming swirling pools, resembling silvery clouds against a velvety blackness. “Appearing outwardly as such a docile female, and yet there’s something about her that suggests she is more ...”
Something dark and possessive rose inside Nik. Sure, he had been thinking the same thing for weeks now, but he didn’t particularly care for the fact that Phantasos had been paying close enough attention to notice. Maybe it was the drop of ambrosia he had slipped into her coffee. It not only healed, but also enhanced a being’s innate abilities.
Nik glanced over, saw the nighttime sky reflected in the other male’s eyes, and knew Phantasos was attempting to slip into Ellie’s thoughts.
Phantasos was one of the Oneiroi, or dream gods. His actions seemed rather intrusive, but Nik had to admit, he was curious about what went on inside the enigmatic Ellie Cavanaugh’s mind. Besides, Phantasos was just doing his thing. If Nik objected, it might raise questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.
Instead, he said, “I thought you could only do that when someone was sleeping.”
“Dreams are dreams, whether crafted in bed or at one’s desk.” Phantasos’ eyes returned to their usual, solid midnight color, except now they were filled with wicked knowledge.
“So, tell me, cousin; what does she dream of?”
Phantasos grinned. “She dreams of you, cousin. She dreams of you.”
Phantasos was still grinning when he walked out of Nik’s inner sanctum a short while later, making a point of pausing at Ellie’s desk.
Nik tensed, that unusual sensation deep within his chest taking root again as Phantasos leaned casually against her workspace.
Phantasos, like the rest of Nik’s extended family, possessed physical beauty beyond human standards. Women were drawn to his dark, somewhat shaggy chestnut hair, easy going smile, and midnight eyes.
Ellie gave no indication that she noticed, however, regarding him with the same polite, pleasant interest she gave the pimply-faced, teenage messenger boy who had left only minutes earlier.
“Is Nikolaos treating you well?” Phantasos asked.
“Quite well, sir.”
“Are you certain?” he persisted, ignoring Nik’s warning glare. “Because I find myself in need of a personal assistant, and I can assure you, I would be much easier to work for than Nikolaos.”
Ellie didn’t hesitate. “Then you should have no difficulty finding someone, sir. Good luck with that.”
Nik hid his smile. It was highly amusing to see his smooth-talking, dream-god relative shot down so thoroughly and with such cool politeness.
Phantasos grinned wider. “If you change your mind ...” He slipped her a business card of black vellum.
Nik frowned when she accepted it from him with a shy smile, but then he smiled again when he saw her smoothly drop it in the waste bin the moment Phantasos walked out the door. A plan began to form in his mind.
“Mrs. Cavanaugh,” he barked, managing to startle her enough that she inadvertently knocked the remains of her lunch off her desk. Fortunately, it landed on top of the business card “Phil” had given her, soaking it completely and making it wholly unsalvageable on the off-chance she changed her mind later and thought to fish it out of the trash.
“Yes, sir?” Ellie looked with some sorrow at her lost lunch, then turned her attention to him.
“Mr. Atos has just informed me of a week-long seminar being held next month in Greece. I plan on attending.”
“Of course, Mr. Deimos. I will make all the necessary arrangements.”
“See that you do.” He paused, the idea continuing to blossom in his head. “On second thought, Mrs. Cavanaugh, make it two weeks. It has been a while since I have seen my native land.”
“Yes, sir.” She nodded, the picture of efficiency as she began making notes.
Then he dropped his bombshell.
“You will accompany me, of course.”
She stilled, pen poised a hair’s breadth above the paper. “Sir?”
“You are my personal assistant, are you not?”
“Well, yes, sir, but—”
“You do understand that this position occasionally requires travel?”
“Yes, sir, but ...” Ellie paused, clearly at a loss.
“But what, Mrs. Cavanaugh?” Nik clasped his hands behind his back and waited patiently.
She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. She did that several times before he continued.
“Of course, if you no longer feel capable of fulfilling the requirements of the position, I can find someone who is.”
It was a bluff, of course. He was not giving her up, not when he knew any number of uncles, cousins, and half-brothers who were just waiting for such an opportunity. His quiet, imperturbable PA was fast becoming the stuff of legend, not only for her ability to manage him, but also for her seeming immunity to the charms of others of his kind. It had even become somewhat of a wagering game to see who, if any, could elicit some spark of feminine interest from her.
Nik had a whole pile of silver drachmas riding on Ellie.
No, he had no intentions of replacing her. If she absolutely refused to accompany him, he would have to get creative. He had a feeling that, if he ever wanted to learn anything about his abstruse assistant, he would have to get her out of her comfort zone. And he could think of no place better than Greece, where his powers were the strongest.
There was something hidden deep inside her, something that called to him at the most basic level, and it was becoming somewhat of an obsession for him to discover what it was.
“Your expenses will be paid by the company, of course,” he added as an extra incentive. If she was as money-conscious as he was beginning to suspect, it would go a long way in easing any reservations she might have. “Do you think your husband can do without you for the duration?”
He had asked that last question innocently enough, but he was very interested in her answer.
The profound sadness that flicked across her features was short-lived, but visible to anyone studying her as closely as he was. “I doubt he’ll even notice I’m gone,” she murmured so softly he was certain he was not meant to hear. Then louder, she said, “I don’t think that will be a problem, sir.”
“Excellent. Then it is settled.”
“Yes, sir.”
Excellent, indeed.
“Oh, and Mrs. Cavanaugh, I want you to create a portfolio of our latest advances to present at the seminar. As that will undoubtedly require most of your free time, I will be making the arrangements for this trip personally.”
* * *
Ellie was going to G
reece! Never in her wildest dreams had she believed for one moment she ever would, but here she was, packing a few of the nicer items in her wardrobe. Some she had never even worn, the boon of an end-of-season summer clearance sale last year. They would be much more suitable to the Mediterranean climate than the outfits she normally wore to the office.
Cal wasn’t happy about her trip, but he could hardly argue. If she didn’t go, she could lose her job, and he was smart enough to realize she would probably never get another position as good as this one. Personal assistant to one of the VPs of one of the largest import/export corporations in the world, with a good salary and excellent benefits? A small-town girl without a college degree couldn’t do much better than that.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t have continued her education after high school, but it would have been difficult. Ellie’s brother had gone off to college to fulfill his dream of being an engineer. The partial scholarship he had received from playing football wasn’t enough to cover everything, however, and had put quite a drain on their parents’ modest finances. By the time she had graduated two years after him, they were pretty much living on hot dogs and mac and cheese.
Not wanting to increase their burden, Ellie had deferred furthering her education, not having a clear picture of what she wanted to do, anyway. She was smart and quick to learn, but had found nothing that lit a fire within her. High school career days had been a bust. Job aptitude tests had placed her in secretarial positions. Therefore, with no other plans, she had scraped together enough money from babysitting and working at the local diner to enroll in a technical and secretarial training program.
It had suited her well enough. Ellie was naturally organized and intelligent, and discovered an aptitude for computers and software. But it was her quiet, unassuming manner and ability to weather a tirade from the worst of bosses without flinching that had finally landed her in Nikolaos Deimos’ office.
“What am I supposed to do while you’re halfway across the world?” Cal asked sulkily, leaning against the doorframe as he watched her fold her crisp cotton blouses with care.
Immortal Dreams: A Mythological Romance Page 4
