by Brux, Boone
“Way too many.” He pulled open the door. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Good luck. You’re going to need it.” Her lilting voice followed him into the outer office. “Jarl, come back in here.”
Tor ignored the underwear model as he scurried past. He had more pressing matters than to give his mother’s himbo a second thought.
How was he going to fix this predicament? Truth was, for once in his life he didn’t have a clear plan or know what he wanted. His mother’s offer to give him the business was a dream come true, but the price was too high. Nikki needed a man who could appreciate her, not only see her as an assistant.
But why then couldn’t he stop thinking about their night together, and the way she looked in the tight dress she wore today? And why did he want to punch Creed Killion in the face when Nikki smiled at him? Tor’s mood darkened.
Maybe it was the aftereffect of the Ambrosia. In another day, he’d be back to himself and all these new urges for Nikki would be gone. Of course, there was still the problem of him having slept with her. Well, that was easy. He’d just explain the situation to her. She was a reasonable person. It was one of the qualities he liked best about her. Once she understood what had happened and where he stood, she’d accept it and they could move on—business as usual.
He ignored the voice in his head whispering that things would never be the same.
Chapter Seven
The afternoon photo session had left Nikki exhilarated. The shoot had been fun, thanks to Creed, and she had a newfound respect for her mother’s job, not that she wanted to become a cover model full-time. She still preferred working behind the scenes and the anonymity being an executive assistant afforded her.
Nikki stood at her desk, checking off her list of to-dos before going home, when the elevator door slid open. She pivoted to see Tor step out of the car. The sight of him took her breath away, and her heart did a little flip. Then she remembered she was angry with him about last night and his indifference this morning, and she straightened, deciding to play it cool.
Maybe it was the confidence she’d gained from the shoot or maybe self-preservation, but she knew she didn’t want to be one of Tor’s fawning admirers. Even if he never admitted it, what they had shared last night was special. It had been a dream come true for her, everything she’d imagined being in Tor’s arms to be, but she wouldn’t beg for his affection.
Her mother’s words floated back to her. “Nikki, when you find the one, love with all your heart. Just don’t be stupid about it.”
Tor closed the distance between them, his eyes raking her body from head to toe. She suppressed the urge glower at him. How could he look at her that way and still pretend they hadn’t banged their brains out last night? “How did your fitting go?”
He stopped in front of her, holding her gaze for several seconds. A flush of warmth spread across her chest, but she forced herself not to fidget.
“Wow, Nikki.” He lifted his hand toward her face, but caught himself and lowered it again. “You look beautiful.”
Damn him for making her want him. If only she had the same effect on him. She smiled and ruffled her hair, smoothing. “Thank you. Miko and José are the best.”
“So your shoot went well?” He ran his tongue across his lower lips and his eyes tracked down her body again. His question sounded like he asked far more than if she’d just had a good time.
Nikki nodded. “It was a lot of fun. I can see why my mother loves modeling so much.”
His expression hardened. “Good.” He paused. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
He didn’t sound like he was glad. She ignored the urge to make things right between them and picked up her purse from the desk. “Well, I was just on my way out. Do you need anything before I go?”
God, he smelled good, and the tan triangle of chest leering at from between the open button on his shirt her beckoned to be touched.
“Actually, I did want to discuss something with you.”
It was about time. She set her purse back down. “What about?”
Tor crossed his arms, as if preparing for an argument. “I’d like to talk about our relationship.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Finally, she’d get to the bottom of his behavior. She mirrored his stance. Would this be when he told her it was just a one-night stand, or would he apologize for being a complete dick today? “What about our relationship?”
“We need to set some ground rules.” He fidgeted again, lowering his arms and shoving his hands in his pockets. “If you’re certain you want to remain as my assistant, I need to know you’ll still be able to do the job while modeling. If not, I can hire somebody to help you.”
She fought to grasp his meaning. “Excuse me?”
He held up his hand. “I know I wasn’t very supportive this morning, but I don’t want to lose you, and I’m willing to work around your schedule if you want to be the face of Goddess.”
“Don’t want to lose me?” A lump formed in her throat. “As an assistant?”
“Yes. You’re dependable and thorough. We make a good team. I’d hate for that dynamic to change.”
Was this his way of telling her it would be business as usual, and they would not be pursuing a more amorous relationship? She struggled to keep the hurt from her voice. “That’s very kind of you, Tor. I appreciate it. I really do.” She picked up her purse and fiddled with the zipper, trying to wrangle her frustration to a manageable level. “But I don’t really think hiring somebody to assist me will be necessary.”
“Are you sure?” He gently gripped her upper arms, forcing her to look at him. “I don’t want to lose you.”
She’d dreamed of hearing those words, but in a romantic situation, not completely out of context as he had said them now. Be careful what you wish for. “No worries.” She forced a smile. “Like you said, we make a good team.” She stepped around him, pulling free from his grasp. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets again, but didn’t return her smile. “’Night, Nikki.”
…
Coward!
Tor cursed himself as he watched Nikki walk to the elevator. She deserved better than him ignoring the elephant in the room, but as he had been about to say the words, his throat closed up. It was complicated, not just a simple, “Hey, thanks for the night of hot sex and oh, by the way, have I mentioned I’m a demigod? And oh, by the way, so are you. Also, can we go back to just being friends?”
The smile on her face as the elevator doors slid shut held more sadness than joy. She was definitely disappointed in him, and for the first time that he could ever remember, that bothered him—a lot.
He rubbed his hands across his face. “Shit.”
How to fix it? Did he even want to fix it?
“Son-of-a-bitch.” He crammed his hand into his pants and maneuvered his cock away from his zipper. One look at Nikki and he’d gone hard—again. It seemed until he got things resolved, arousal would be his natural state around her and so would cold showers.
He walked into his office, locking the door behind him and strode into his bathroom. He couldn’t think clearly. Images of last night kept clouding rational thought. Unzipping his pants, he palmed his cock, gently squeezing the head. He leaned against the door and stroked his erection. Maybe if he could pleasure himself he’d be able to come up with a feasible plan.
The vision of Nikki taking him into her mouth popped into his mind. He closed his eyes, letting the memory wash over him. His grip tightened and his hand pumped quicker. It didn’t take long to reach his climax. His body shuddered as the ecstasy washed through him, and then slowly relaxed. He opened his eyes and looked down at himself. Though his orgasm had relieved some of the ache it hadn’t cured his problem all together.
After cleaning up, Tor exited the bathroom and plopped down on the suede couch. Suddenly, he was more tired than he could ever remember. Laying back, he covered his eyes with his arm. Decisions were what he did for a living
every day of his life, so why couldn’t he seem to find a way to deal with this mess?
Now he’d accepted the fact that they’d slept together, and though he’d never openly admit it to anybody, the thought of being with Nikki awakened an awareness in him that he hadn’t experienced before. Despite her being on his Do Not Date list, they really did fit together well. He let his thoughts drift through the foggy memories of last night.
There was no doubt it had been hot, and even today she’d looked sexy as hell, getting sexier each time he saw her. His arm slid from his face and hung limply over the side of the couch. He stared at the ceiling. Why had he never noticed how beautiful she was before?
Fear gripped him, the kind that cut off his breathing and made him sweat. He stood and paced. He hadn’t noticed because he hadn’t wanted to notice. Beautiful women swarmed through the Kythera Cosmetics building daily. They confronted him at every turn, offering him attention, the pretense of love, and the joy of sporting a beautiful woman on his arm, but they always wanted something in return. Usually it was a huge modeling contract.
Nikki had never expressed an interest. She was safe—had been safe. Now where did she fit into his organized life? He could pretend nothing had happened between them and life would eventually return to normal. That’s the kind of woman Nikki was: low maintenance.
His mother’s words floated up to haunt him. “One day the thing most precious to you is going to walk out the door, and you’re not going to have even realized it until it’s too late.”
Was that Nikki? He had to see her and explain. At the very least, he owed her that.
A solid rap against the door jerked him from his ruminations. A young man stood in the open doorway, holding a manila folder. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Stephanos, but legal asked me to deliver this to you.”
Irritated by the interruption, his question came out brusquer than he’d intended. “What is it?”
“A contract, sir.” The man eased into the office.
Tor met him halfway, taking the folder from him and flipping it open. Nikki’s contract. He scowled. “That was quick.”
“I believe Mr. Killion put a rush on it.”
“I just bet he did.” Tor nodded and gave the man a forced smile. No need to kill the messenger. “Thank you. I’ll take care of this.”
The man didn’t need to be told twice. He practically sprinted from the office. Tor closed the folder and tossed it on his desk. He paced to the window and stared at the high-rise directly across from his office. Hopefully Creed was just being efficient and didn’t have other designs on Nikki. Deep inside he knew that wasn’t true. Images of how she and Creed had laughed during the shoot hinted that the new creative director’s interest in her was far more than professional.
Tor placed the side of his fist against the window and leaned his forehead against the cool glass. This was why he’d never mixed business with pleasure. It was too messy. Control of the situation seemed to be slipping through his fingers, and no brilliant ideas on how to stop it presented themselves.
He needed to gain back control, and that meant getting almost everything out in the open with Nikki by telling her who he was and what had happened last night. He might even have to reveal that she was the daughter of Ares, despite the fact that it was well known among the supernatural world that Ares liked to keep his matters private. Still, she deserved to know—even if that meant facing down the god of war. Her reaction would let him know how much he’d be able to say.
Tor pulled away from the window and walked to his desk, feeling more fortified now that he had a plan, and picked up the folder again. Contract negotiations would get him through her door, and whatever happened after that would be left up to the Fates.
He ordered a car, telling his driver to pick him up at the front of his building. Once at Nikki’s, he’d dismiss the chauffeur for the night and take a cab home when they were finished with their talk. Who knew how long it would take. With one last glance around his office to make sure everything had been handled for the night, he tucked the folder under his arm and headed to the elevator.
The doors slid open seconds before he reached for the button to reveal Demetria leaning on a pair of crutches.
“Demi?” He placed his hand against the edge of the metal door to hold it open. “What are you doing here? You should be at home, resting.”
Her eyes softened, making her look helpless, but Tor knew better. She was a demigoddess, niece to Narcissus, and had the power to heal herself completely within a few days. The crutches were for show, as was the black shoe brace encasing her leg from foot to knee.
“That’s so sweet of you to worry about me, Tor.” She glided out of the elevator and he was amazed to see not only did she wear a five-inch stiletto on her uninjured foot, but she could still sashay in crutches. “I might be hurt, but I wanted to make sure everything was all right here.”
“Very thoughtful, Demi, but unnecessary.”
She pivoted and tilted her head to the side, giving him a look that screamed martyr. “Well, you know me; I’m tenacious when it comes to my job.”
“Yes.” Tor let the elevator door slide shut. He faced her and crossed his arms, clutching the folder to his chest. “And when you want something.”
“All part of being an attorney.” She winced and hobbled to a wingback chair placed under the mirror. Unable to resist the pull of her own reflection, she gave her curls a little shake before lowering herself to the seat. “Were you on your way out?”
“I was.” He closed the distance between them and stopped a few feet away. “But since you’re here, I think there are a few things we need to talk about.”
Her smile tightened. “Such as?”
“Such as you feeding me Ambrosia last night.”
“Ambrosia?” She blinked several times as if stunned by his accusation. “Why would I do a thing like that?”
Denial was exactly what he’d expected, but he wasn’t falling for her innocent act. “To get me in bed so you could add another notch to your bedpost.”
She rose from the seat with the grace of Venus rising from the sea, head held high, chin tilted, back ramrod straight. “I don’t need to get you drunk to get you in bed, Toraos.”
“Yes, you would, and you tried.” He took a step toward her. “Fortunately, your plan backfired.” His glower bored into her. “I hate to be manipulated, Demi. I’m cutting you some slack because I know deviousness is in your nature. But if you want to continue working here, I suggest you change your scheming ways. Do we understand each other?”
Demetria inhaled, her jaw clenching, pulling the muscles in her neck into tight cords. Despite her obvious anger, she nodded.
“Good.” He relaxed his stance. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and put out another fire your little trick caused.” He walked to the elevator.
“Did you sleep with Nikki?”
Tor stopped and turned to face Demi. “What happened between Nikki and I is none of your business.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Maybe not, but if you think sex will ever be as good as it was last night, then you’re in for a rude awakening. In another few days the effects of the Ambrosia will be gone and you’ll be back to seeing her as the same boring assistant she was before you nailed her.”
Tor mentally counted to five, trying to get a handle on his anger. Though he refused to reason out why things going back to normal left him with a hollow feeling, he wouldn’t give Demi the satisfaction of knowing her words bothered him.
“First of all, Nikki is anything but boring. Secondly, I’m well aware of the effects of Ambrosia. I’ve seen firsthand how the gods use it to feel alive.” The amber drink had been plentiful while growing up, but he’d never ventured a taste. After seeing several powerful gods act like pining idiots around his mother, Tor had sworn off the love-inducing drink, vowing to never lose control over a woman. He punched the elevator button. “If you’re resorting to Ambrosia, Demi, perhaps you should take a
hard look at your life and find out why you’re so bored.”
She harrumphed. “I’m not bored, just curious.”
He stepped into the elevator. “We all know what curiosity did to the cat.”
She made a clawing action. “Yes, and this kitty has claws.”
He willed the doors to close, blocking out any more conversation with her. Though he’d warned Demi off from messing in his business, he was certain she’d find a way to cause problems. This was just another reason he didn’t involve himself in the world of gods. Even their half-blood children acted irrationally. Probably too much inbreeding.
Right now Demi was the least of his problems. With a thought, he directed the elevator to the lobby. Sometimes using his powers was necessary—sometimes magic just made him feel more in control, but he’d never tell his mother that.
Chapter Eight
After work, Nikki walked into her apartment and instantly noticed a ballet of dust speckles dancing in the streaming sunshine. There was a small stack of plates in the sink because she’d yet to put away the dishes from the dishwasher load she’d done a week ago. It had just been easier to pull out a bowl or fork when she needed it. But it was the pile of laundry that spurred her into action.
Still feeling antsy from the shoot and her encounter with Tor, she’d embraced physical labor, hoping it would help curb her restlessness. Once the cleaning supplies had been assembled and music turned on, she got to work. The kitchen and living room didn’t take much time, but her bedroom was another story. Before long she’d assembled two piles of stuff in the middle of her floor, one to give away and one to toss.
She pulled down three of the many boxes she’d saved in case she decided to move, and filled them with the items from her piles. A small pink package fell from the shelf of her closet. She picked it up and smiled. It was a pregnancy test that Stacey had gotten her for her birthday last year as a joke. Scribbled across the front of the box she’d written, Open in case of emergency.
