by Abigail Owen
Leia gave him a small nod. “Of course. What’s the purpose of the trip?”
Castor leaned back in his chair. “We’ll be attending a mating ceremony, so I assume they have a block of rooms reserved. You’ll want to check that.”
She lifted her head. “Mating?” That was a new one. They’d traveled to social situations before, mixing business with pleasure. “But I’m only there as your assistant. Correct?”
He crossed his arms, his muscles straining the fine material of his navy suit. “Yes.”
Leia didn’t like the dark intensity in his eyes, like a storm brewing. Something suspicious lingered there, she just had no idea what it could be. Was it extra dry in here? Where had she left her water bottle? Crap. On her desk. She could really use it about now.
The intensity honed and settled on her as he stood and came around the desk. “The wedding will be under the Banes/Canis names.”
She lowered her gaze to make a note, then the names he’d shared sank 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 wolf-shifter mating ceremonies.” Especially not with Castor Dioskouri.
Leia watched with trepidation as Castor leaned back against his desk, ankles crossed, seemingly at total ease. Only somehow she could tell that he was anything but. “Again, why not?” he asked.
She bit her lip but stopped when his gaze automatically dropped to follow the movement. She straightened in her chair, crossing her feet primly at the ankles, knees together. Body language that screamed keep away. Which he always had done. The body language was more for herself.
“Have you ever been to a wolf-shifter mating ceremony?” she asked.
“No.”
Huh. She would have expected that, in his long lifetime, he would’ve been to at least one. “Have you heard anything about them?”
He lifted a single eyebrow. “I’ve been around a while, Lyleia. Of course I’ve heard.”
“So, you know the pair being mated releases a pheromone which makes everyone there very…” She searched for a word appropriate to use with her boss.
“Very?”
She narrowed her eyes at the impatient snap in his voice and tried not to shift in her seat with how her body heated up. “Horny,” she bit out.
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 drily.
Castor held up his hands. “My apologies. I forget that fact sometimes.”
Which firmly put her in her place. Most supernaturals couldn’t wait to get with a nymph, for obvious reasons. The gods had a lot to answer for with that whole giving and receiving pleasure thing. She glanced away, out the window.
“As a nymph, I’d think pheromones shouldn’t bother you.” Castor’s voice dragged her back.
Very carefully, she picked up 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. She absorbed the heat of him through her skin, warmth traveling through her blood to pool low.
“I need a reason, Lyleia.”
She shivered as the dark, rough 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 Castor’s incredulous irritation. She wondered if the man had ever been denied anything he wanted. Instead, Leia ground her teeth.
Wolf-shifter matings were heady and hedonistic, but he was right—she could handle it under normal circumstances. However, attending one with a demigod who exuded power and sexuality was a different circumstance altogether. That she happened to have a small, apparently uncontrollable, thing for him was a recipe for disaster.
When Delilah had approached her about this job, she’d given one directive: DO NOT FALL FOR HIM.
That was it. Simple enough, to Leia’s way of thinking at the time. Delilah was a long-time friend and had known Leia’s unique qualifications to resist such a temptation. She’d successfully fended off countless gods and demigods for ages. In the gods’ heyday—now referred to as Classical Antiquity, which tickled her sense of humor since it technically made her an antique—the gods had relentlessly pursued her and her sisters and cousins. In addition, Delilah knew Leia’s history with gods. She’d picked Leia up, dusted her off, and given her a life.
Leia owed her.
However, given her feelings for him, this mating ceremony was the last place they should be together. She didn’t want Castor’s last memory of her to be breaking all his rules and throwing herself at him.
“Is it me? You don’t trust me?”
She turned her head to face him, taking in his intense blue eyes trained on her in a way that made her want to squirm. His hand still covered hers, the heat of his skin like a brand.
She tipped her chin. “I just…don’t like wolf-shifter matings.”
His strangely focused expression unsettled her. A heat lit his gaze in a way she’d never seen before, not directed her way at least. Only it couldn’t be real. She gave herself a mental slap. Snap out of it, woman. Wishful thinking gets you nowhere.
“So, you do trust me?” Something in his voice snagged at her. Like this was important to him.
She swallowed. “I trust you, Castor.” Just not herself.
He squeezed her hand. “Good. I don’t want to lose you.”
She ignored the warmth his statement sent directly to her heart. He’s talking about your work, dummy.
“And I wouldn’t push, but I need you for this,” he continued.
If she leaned the tiniest bit forward, she could kiss him. Would his kisses be as electric as everything else about him? Taste like the sky, the way he smelled? Leia swallowed down the crazy urge. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I’m attending to support a good friend on an important day in his life. However, as you’ve pointed out, things can get a little…interesting…at a wolf-shifter mating. I don’t need the complication of sex muddling things up, and you have a unique resistance to me.”
“Oh.”
“Delilah did an amazing job sending you to me. You’ve been refreshingly…err…impervious, as well as an excellent assistant.”
Leia’s heart did a decent impersonation of the Hindenburg, going up in flames as it fell to her feet. He wanted her to go with him because she didn’t want him. Message received. She cleared her throat. “Thank you. I think.”
He nodded. “I can’t go to this alone and risk doing something I’d regret. I’m asking you to protect me from all those raging pheromones. Please.”
Damn the man to Hades and back.
He’d asked nicely and given her a reason that meant helping him out in a big way. Her Achilles’ heel. Ironically, she’d known the real Achilles well and had mourned his death. The demigod had been a cousin of sorts, his mother Thetis being a sea nymph.
That had been before Leia developed her aversion to the gods.
Leia took a long breath. “Okay.”
To give him credit, he didn’t gloat. Not that he would. Instead, he looked at her closely, as though gauging her sincerity. “Okay?”
“Yes.” She drew her shoulders back. “I’ll go make our arrangements now.” And then when they got back, she’d resign.
He didn’t move away or take his han
d from hers. They gazed at each other, neither seemingly willing to break the strangely intimate connection. The freshly spicy scent of him filled her yet again. She’d given him that aftershave for his birthday. Now she was both regretting and savoring the gift.
This has got to stop before we get to the mating.
“May I?” She indicated the door with a jerk of her head.
Slowly, his gaze not leaving her face, Castor stepped back.
With more haste than elegance, she yanked the door open and walked to her desk.
“You’re an angel,” he called after her.
“Or a sucker,” she muttered.
“I heard that.”
She dropped into her seat, already regretting agreeing to this. It had disaster written all over it. She needed to leave, go back into hiding, and forget she’d ever worked for Castor Dioskouri.
Chapter Three
Castor shifted, trying to get comfortable in his seat on the private plane Leia had arranged. Shouldn’t be hard. He’d designed this plane and it was the lap of luxury. The jet seated ten, operated with a crew of two, and boasted a modern interior—all supple black leather, shining chrome, and that new jet smell.
The constant clack of Leia’s fingers on her keyboard sounded ahead of him to the right.
Damn that had been close yesterday. She’d been on the verge of giving him that damn letter of resignation. Again. He’d headed her off only to come a hair’s breadth away from losing her anyway, pushing her to accompany him to this wolf-shifter thing.
Castor stared at the side of her face now. She refused to sit with him on flights unless she needed him for what she was working on. The first time they’d traveled together, he’d asked her to move closer.
“Do we have work to get done?” She had looked at him with those wide blue eyes and not even a hint of interest beyond an answer.
A new experience for him.
“No,” he’d said slowly.
“Then no thanks.” She had given him a half smile that he guessed was meant to soften the blunt words but didn’t really help. Then she had turned and plopped into a seat toward the front.
He’d taken his own seat with a lingering sensation of bewilderment and amusement. Women usually threw themselves at him. Granted, he’d asked Delilah for an EA who wouldn’t. He just hadn’t expected Leia to be quite that…diligent about it.
Now, he read the same paragraph for the fifth time in a row and gave up, closing his own laptop. The plane dropped slightly, and he glanced outside to see mountains not far below. They’d be landing before long.
Leia’s typing hadn’t slowed. Did the woman ever ease up? She’d shown up at five in the morning for their early flight dressed in her usual neutral—black today—business attire of skirt and top with matching jacket. Not a hair out of place, makeup at a minimum, nails manicured but simple. Not that he could talk, as he was equally formal in a gray, custom-made silk suit, hand-stitched and fitted to perfection. Appearance mattered in the business world.
Still, none of her efforts to play things down could hide her intrinsic beauty. Leia glowed with a loveliness he realized came as much from—maybe more from—the inside as it did the outer wrapping.
A quick glance showed him her arm and the edge of her face, the rest of her blocked by the black leather back of her seat. He studied her quietly—the curve of her cheek, her long dark lashes, her honey blond hair, worn down today, tucked behind her ear. A wicked urge to nibble at the lobe tugged at him, and he adjusted his uncomfortably growing erection as his body responded.
Guilt counteracted the response. Guilt for the idea that maybe he was only pushing his own agenda here. He should just accept her resignation and send her home. Less complicated for both of them.
He took a sip of his coffee—black, strong, bitter…and cold. He made a face. His brain was definitely not engaged today.
Suddenly, Leia swung around. She blinked to find him already watching her but didn’t even give him the satisfaction of widened eyes or a blush. Nothing.
Castor raised his eyebrows in question.
“We’re coming to the end of the three-month period of support for the Aaron family,” she said.
He cleared his throat. “How is Tyler progressing?” He already knew. Jordan Aaron was one of his employees, and his son had leukemia. Castor visited often but kept that from everyone, even Leia.
Her eyes lit up. “He’s in full remission.”
He nodded as though that was news. “Excellent. Do they need another three months, or should we consider a different need?”
Castor had been covering all the hospital bills for the past six months. Leia had stumbled across his one-man charity for the employees of Dioskouri Enterprises a few months after starting work for him and had asked to help organize it. They selected a different family to help every three months based on needs. But Leia and the families involved were sworn to secrecy.
He didn’t need this getting out in the world and ruining his reputation as ruthless and brilliant. Soft was not a descriptor he cultivated. Even if helping in these small ways—to humans or non-humans—gave him a buzz not even designing a new plane could do.
Especially when Leia looked at him like he had a good heart.
She pursed her lips, most likely completely unaware of the impact that one small change in expression did to his cock. “I think,” she said, “with the help you’ve already provided, they are through the worst. Fiona Olline’s mother is about to need hospice. I feel there’s a greater need there.”
Castor waved a hand. “I trust your opinion.”
She nodded and turned back to her computer. “Softie McCares-a-Lot,” she muttered to herself.
“Share that opinion and you’re fired.”
The second the words were out he grimaced, then schooled his features to neutral when she turned, as if to assess his seriousness. He raised a single eyebrow and said nothing. After a second she shook her head at him before returning to her work.
He blew out a silent breath.
The thing was, he wanted her to think well of him. That silly muttering made him want to beat his chest and do more good things, just to make her like him. Which was damn ridiculous. Olympus help him, something was going to have to give.
Hence the unaccustomed thoughts bombarding him about this weekend. He’d already planned to bring her. He hadn’t been joking when he’d asked for her help. She was his buffer at this thing. But then he’d seen that fucking resignation letter and was running out of time.
Now he had a few days to… What? Win her? Seduce her? No…find out if this thing was mutual or not. More importantly, why did she want to leave? Had she realized his changing feelings and this was her way of rejecting him? Leia gave every appearance of loving her work. Happy, satisfied, fulfilled employees were a source of pride for him as a successful businessman. Her plan to leave had triggered a response close to caveman level. He didn’t like it.
“Are you challenged?” he asked, his thoughts out of his mouth before he vetted the words first.
Those long, slim fingers paused in their nonstop motion, and she turned in her chair to frown questioningly at him. “Sorry?”
“At work. Are you feeling challenged?” What was wrong with him, blurting it out like that? Usually he was more…subtle.
She blinked at him owlishly, which made him want to shift in his seat like a naughty schoolboy. “Is this about my not wanting to come on the trip?”
“No. This is about your job satisfaction.”
Her expression didn’t change. If anything, she looked more confused. “Did you know satisfaction in one’s job is the number one contributor to personal happiness? They did a study.”
He ignored her factoid segue. “Are you?”
“Yes.” She drew out the word, obviously not knowing where he was going with the question.
“That doesn’t sound sure. Want to rephrase?”
She continued to stare at him with those cobalt blue eyes that seemed to see too much of his soul. “Is there something wrong you’re not telling me?”
He cocked his head. “Why?”
“Because you’ve never asked me a question like that.” She shrugged. “I know the business is doing great, but maybe there’s a problem with your family? Is Pollux okay?”
And there it was again. A twinge of irrational annoyance—he refused to dub it jealousy—at the idea she might be interested in another man. He’d experienced it twice yesterday. Once with Mike, who’d obviously been hitting on her. The other when he’d realized she’d have to cancel a date this weekend. Now he was suspicious of his own brother. He was losing his mind and his self-control. His attraction to his wife hadn’t been nearly this disconcerting.
Get a grip.
He ran a hand over the smooth chrome of his armrest. “Pollux is fine. Answer the question.”
She stared at him blankly, a look which he returned with a poker face the pros would envy.
“I love my job.”
He couldn’t mistake the sincerity in her voice. But why, then, did she want to leave? “Maybe you need more responsibility? Or maybe you want to do something else within the company? Although I’d hate to lose you as an assistant—”
He cut himself off. He was babbling now. He never babbled.
“No.” She folded her hands in front of her, and even that gesture had him thinking things he shouldn’t. “I’m not exactly shy about speaking up,” she said.
He chuckled around the frustrating level of tension building in him. “That’s true.”
She tossed him another look—concern obvious in her clear eyes—then turned back to her work, effectively dismissing him. He watched her for a bit, battling with the strangest urge to brush her hair away from her neck. Would she lean into his touch or jerk away?
Needing distraction before he embarrassed himself, he reopened his own laptop and tried to read some new contracts until they landed. The nice thing about flying private was how quickly you got out of the airport. Rather than hire a driver, Leia had a rental car waiting for them at the gate. Their luggage was loaded, and they were away within minutes.
