by Abigail Owen
“Let’s just say you’re going to need a very large stick.” Dark laughter lurked in Marrok’s voice.
“Why?”
“To beat off the wolves.”
His friend was obviously enjoying the hilarity of the situation, but had to be mistaken. Leia was gorgeous, but she didn’t flaunt her beauty, tending to dress on the conservative side. Besides, he doubted she wanted to call attention to herself with Kaios here.
He scanned the crowds filing in at the back of the chapel. “I don’t see her.”
“Navy dress. Her hair is up.”
Navy sounded right. Conservative. The way his nymph liked to dress.
He caught a flash of blue and the top of her blond hair piled high on her head. Then the tuxedoed man blocking most of her from view stepped aside. What was Marrok talking about? While she looked incredible to him—his body started to heat up at the sight of her like it always did—he harbored feelings for her. Given the way the other ladies were dressed, he doubted Leia had anything to worry about the with the wolves.
The dress was long, draping to the floor, the top gathered over her right shoulder. No cleavage showed. A thin slit at her hip showed a sliver of flat belly. Sexy as all hell. But still covered up compared to the skin on display from the lady wolves. Leia appeared classy in a room full of overdone.
She caught his eye and waved. Her lips, painted bright pink, stretched wide in a smile. Castor caught his breath as his stomach clenched in response. Her smile was for him alone. How he knew, he wasn’t entirely sure.
Praise for Abigail Owen
“ANDROMEDA’S FALL is one book that you need to have mapped-out time to read because it will not let you put it down. From the first page when the injured Andie jumps through the window into the Keller home to the fantastic (I didn’t want it to end) ending, you will be enthralled.”
Annetta Sweetko, Fresh Fiction
“I couldn’t put [BLUE VIOLET] down! Romance, adventure, really cool powers and characters that will leave you begging for more create a fantastic start to the series…I can’t to read the next one..”
C.C. Pen, Paranormal Romance & Authors that Rock
“Abigail Owen is fast becoming one of my favourite authors, as you can probably tell by this review. I can’t wait to read the third book in the Svatura series! In the meantime, I’d highly recommend [HYACINTH] to pretty much all readers who like a little fantasy in their everyday life. You really can’t go wrong with the Svatura series.
Carrie Slager, The Mad Reviewer
Awards
2016 RWA West Houston Emily Award Finalist – Short Contemporary Romance for SAVING THE SHERIFF
2015 RWA FF&P Prism Award Winner – Dark Paranormal Romance for ANDROMEDA’S FALL
2015 Coffee Time Romance Recommended (CTRR) for ANDROMEDA’S FALL
2014 eLit Award Winner – Bronze Medalist, Best SciFi/Fantasy for BLUE VIOLET
2013 IPPY Award Winner – Bronze Medalist, Best SciFi/Fantasy/Horror eBook for BLUE VIOLET
Her Demigod Complex
In Love With Her Demigod Billionaire Boss
by
Abigail Owen
A Legendary Consultants Novella
Copyright 2016 by Abigail Owen
Smashwords Edition
Dedication
To Jill – my sister of the heart. No matter how long we’re apart, we pick right up where we left off—only older, wiser, and with more kids. Love you!
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Her Demigod Complex! Writing is a passion, one that I look forward to enjoying every day. I hope you enjoyed exploring this world I created and the characters who’ve become so important to me.
I would not be able to do this without my team: my critique partners and readers, my terrific author friends, and, especially, my mother.
A huge Thank You and I Love You to my amazing husband and children, who support (and even encourage) this obsession of mine.
If you would like to contact me, I’d love to hear from you (www.abigailowen.com). Thanks again!
Sincerely,
Abigail Owen
CHAPTER 1
“Lyleia, will you please come in here?”
Lyleia, who went by Leia to everyone but her boss, winced at the harsh tone in her boss’s voice over the intercom. She had a good idea what his mood was about, since she’d put through a call from an irate blonde—the latest in a line of Castor Dioskouri’s dates. The women he saw didn’t stick around long enough to be called girlfriends. Holding up a finger to the man standing on the other side of her desk, she pressed the intercom button. “I have Mike Morgan with me. Five minutes?”
Silence.
She gave Castor another few seconds, then, assuming her boss was okay with waiting, lifted her gaze to the head lawyer of Dioskouri Enterprises. She held out her hand to accept the paperwork he’d brought. “Thanks, Mike. I’ll get his signature and have this back to you by end of day.”
She tucked the files neatly away and stood. She smoothed down her grey pencil skirt and white buttoned blouse and patted her shoulder length blond hair in place. Then she disconnected her computer from the docking station.
But Mike didn’t leave. Instead, he casually hitched a hip on her desktop, pushing papers around. Leia held in a sigh as her fingers itched to fix the small upset to her perfectly ordered work station.
“When are you going to go out with me?” Mike asked with what she was sure most women found to be a charming smile. The lawyer, while excellent at his job, was a player with a capital P. Not her style at all.
“When are you going to stop asking?” She gave him a gentle push to get off her desk and came around the side to head into Castor’s office.
Mike got up but didn’t make a move to leave. “Just one little date?”
She shook her head, amused despite herself, and pointed at the door. “Shoo.”
“Friday?”
“Mike. Did you need something?”
The dark rumble of a voice sounded behind her, and Leia spun on her heel to find Castor standing in the doorway, his usual easy smile nowhere to be seen.
“I was dropping off the Metro paperwork for your signature.” Mike strolled to the door. “See you later, Leia.”
She nodded, but otherwise didn’t pay attention to his departure. Her entire focus was on the man standing in front of her. Tall, dark, and handsome didn’t begin to cover the pure energy and power radiating from his lean form. As had happened from her first day working for him, Castor’s presence pulled a visceral response from her.
Why the hell can’t I turn off my body around him? She’d debated the reason every day for the last year, ever since Legendary Consultants placed her in the job as Castor’s Executive Assistant. After all, as a nymph with her history, she’d been able to turn off every other god and demigod to cross her path for thousands of years. Why not this one?
Maybe her problem was she also liked him as a person. That was a new experience when it came to his breed, and she’d come across all types in her time—weres, witches, demigods, demons, and creatures even human mythology had never uncovered.
Just as she had every other day, she ruthlessly tamped down her reaction to him. She needed this job. And she despised anything to do with gods or demigods. Right? Even six-foot-three, Armani suit wearing, chiseled temptation with blue eyes and a wicked smile.
Not that he was smiling. Right now, he practically glared at her, but he always got cranky after he ended things with a girlfriend—and he was the one who always ended it.
She stepped forward, assuming he’d move out of the way to usher her into his office. Only he didn’t, and now she was very much in his space, inhaling the spice of his aftershave and the fresh air
scent of his skin. The heat radiating from him penetrated both his suit and her clothes. Demigods ran hot, something about all that supernatural power. When she was a young nymph, she’d imagined it would be nice to snuggle up to one in a pond, like her own walking hot springs generator. But that had been before.
Instead of getting out of her way, Castor leaned forward, crowding her more. “Does Mike bother you often?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Mike doesn’t bother me at all.” She was proud her words hadn’t come out all husky and needy sounding, because her body had lit from within having him this close.
“So you wanted him to ask you out?” Doubt colored the words.
She stared at his top button, which was undone as was his tie, exposing the kissable hollow at the base of his neck. Dang. Now she was wondering what licking that spot might taste like. No, she wasn’t, because she didn’t let herself think things like that about her boss. Her demigod boss.
Why were they having this conversation again? “I can handle Mike.”
He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “So he needs handling?”
Her skin tingled at his touch. Time to put a stop to this or next she’d be throwing herself into his arms. She rolled her eyes. “You can put away your cape, Superman. I don’t need saving today.”
His jaw tensed. She recognized that stubborn look. Castor wasn’t going to give this up. The man had a demigod complex a mile wide—a need to save anything in a skirt.
What she needed was a diversion. “Would you prefer to send her the wine? Or maybe flowers this time?”
He pulled back. “Excuse me?”
Granted, distracting him with an unsolicited parting gift for his ex-girlfriend might not have been the smartest of moves. At least all that intensity had shifted away from the topic of Mike.
“The gift for Ms. Penderson. Which would you prefer, wine or flowers?”
“And what makes you think I need to send a gift?”
She wasn’t about to answer that question. “Do you not?”
With a glower, he finally moved out of the way. Oxygen returned to her lungs as he led her inside his office. The view of the Austin skyline from his office never got old. He sat in a fancy chrome chair behind a modern glass desk, a larger version of hers.
She took her usual chair across the way and flipped open her laptop, preparing to take notes. Only none were forthcoming. She glanced up to find him watching her, his fingers steepled under his chin and a speculative light in his eyes.
“Wine.”
She nodded, and noted the task.
“I’d like to know how you knew that.”
“I’m excellent at my job.”
“Maybe too good,” he muttered.
She didn’t react, merely sat and waited.
“Actually, scratch that. I’ll take care of it.”
That’s a first. Maybe her pointing out his dating habits had shamed him into getting his own breakup gifts. Though she doubted it.
Time to bring this conversation back to the reason he’d summoned her in the first place. “What did you need?”
The answer was a long time coming, as though he were reluctant to leave the topics they’d been discussing. “I need you to accompany me on a trip.”
“Okay.” She frequently traveled with him for business. She placed her fingers on the keyboard, ready to take notes. “Where will we be going?”
“Colorado…Rocky Mountain National Park. Specifically, we’ll be staying outside at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park.”
She’d made a note to check the map for the closest city to fly into, probably Denver. “When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow.”
She blinked. “This weekend?”
“Is that a problem?”
“I do have a life outside of this job,” she intoned in a dry voice.
He cocked his head. “What? Hot date?”
“Something like that,” she murmured. She hadn’t been looking forward to the date anyway, if she were honest.
“You’ll have to reschedule.” He waved his hand as he would at a pesky fly.
What would he do if she said duh? Laugh probably. That was his usual reaction to her snarkier comments. She resisted the urge, not wanting a repeat of the tension from moments ago.
Leia gave him a small nod. “Of course.”
He narrowed his eyes, and she looked away. “What’s the purpose of the trip?”
“We’re negotiating a new contract, and the full board of the company we’re dealing with will be present and together that weekend.”
She nodded.
Castor leaned back in his chair. “We’ll be attending a wedding, so I assume they have a block of rooms reserved. You’ll want to check that.”
She lifted her head. “Wedding?” That was a new one. They’d traveled to social situations before, mixing business with pleasure. But never a wedding.
Castor grimaced. “Pamela was supposed to go with me.”
Leia’s fingers paused on the keyboard. “Was she planning to take notes or work for you?”
He tipped his head. “No.”
“I see.”
A twinkle entered his eyes. “Problem?”
Secretly, she got a kick out of his devilish sense of humor, though not as much when directed her way. Or when she was annoyed with him in return.
She straightened her posture. “What is my role on this trip?”
“My Executive Assistant. What else?”
Now a smile tugged at his lips. She forced herself to look him directly in the eye. “Not as a date?”
“You’ll go with me to the wedding, which could be construed as my date.”
“But I’m only there as your assistant.”
He crossed his arms, his muscles straining the fine material of his navy suit. “Yes.”
“And that’s how you’ll introduce me?” While she was suspicious of the situation he was outlining, a frustrating ray of hope that he might actually want her there as his date niggled at the back of her mind.
“Of course. Why?”
She didn’t like that twinkle, which, if anything, grew brighter. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m wounded that you don’t trust me, Ms. Naiad.”
Wisely, she kept her mouth shut. Like every other god and demigod she’d met, Castor would do whatever it took to get his way.
The twinkle changed to a scowl as he stood and came around the desk. “The wedding will be under the Banes/Canis names.”
So he was not going to perjure himself by lying to her. She ducked her head to hide her twitching lips. Even when she was irritated with him, she found him charming. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Not charming. Annoying. Not that those mental instructions made any damn difference.
The names he’d shared sunk in and her head snapped up. “No.” The word punched out of her.
“What?”
“I’m not going.”
Did the sky outside darken? As a son of Zeus, Castor’s emotions were sometimes reflected in the weather, but a quick check revealed blue skies outside and his next words were softly put. “Why not?”
“I don’t go to werewolf mating ceremonies.” Not after the last one. And especially not with Castor Dioskouri.
CHAPTER 2
He leaned back against his desk, ankles crossed, and at total ease. “Again, why not?”
She bit her lip, but stopped when his gaze followed the movement. She straightened in her chair, crossing her feet primly at the ankles, knees together. “Have you ever been to a werewolf mating ceremony?”
“No.”
Huh. She would have expected that, in his long lifetime, he would’ve been to at least one. “Have you heard of them?”
“I’ve been around a while, Lyleia. Of course I’ve heard.”
“So you know the pair being wed releases a pheromone which makes everyone there very…” She searched for a word appropriate to use with her boss.
“Very?”
His eyebrows shot up. “I’m shocked, Ms. Naiad. I wouldn’t have expected you to know that word.”
“I am a nymph,” she pointed out dryly. Nymphomaniac was a term named after them for a reason, though, contrary to popular belief, most nymphs were not sex-crazed women. They were just particularly gifted by the gods to give and receive pleasure.
Castor held up his hands. “My apologies. I forget that fact sometimes.”
She glanced away, out the window. So do I.
“As a nymph, I’d think a werewolf mating shouldn’t bother you.”
Very carefully, she closed the lid of her computer, stood up, and tucked it into the crook of her arm. “I’m not going.”
She made it to the door, only to be stopped when he placed his hand over hers on the knob. No whisper of sound reached her ears to warn her of his move, blast his demigod speed.
“You’d risk your job over this?”
She shivered as the dark chocolate tones of his voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. His warm breath brushed over her cheek, his lips only a fraction of space away. What was it about this doorway today?
If she hadn’t been so keyed up, she would’ve laughed at his incredulity. She wondered if Castor had ever been denied anything he wanted. Instead, Leia ground her teeth.
In normal circumstances she wouldn’t risk her job. Werewolf matings were heady and hedonistic, but she could handle it. Most of the time. However, attending one with a demigod who exuded power and sexuality, combined with the fact that she happened to have a small thing for him, was a recipe for disaster.
When Delilah, the owner of Legendary Consultants—a hiring firm for supernaturals like her—had approached her about this job, Leia had assumed she’d be able to handle it with no problem. Apparently Castor had gone through several Executive Assistants, each of whom couldn’t resist falling for him. Even the men.
