Haunting Hephaestus (Gods of Olympus Book 9)

by Annalise Nixon

  Of course, since she was the antithesis of cool and calm, she snatched the phone off the desk and spoke before the phone was even at her ear. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course. You?”

  “I’ll be down there in a few minutes to… Do I need to break you out, pay bail, or what?

  “Stop being cute. You don’t have to commit a felony.”

  “Well, that’s good. I doubt they’d let me out so easily.” He chuckled, and damn if she felt less tired than she had a minute ago.

  “If you’re into handcuffs, I can help you out.” Vulcan made a low sound of approval that made her think about adding handcuffs to the grocery list. “Hey, I need a rain check tonight.”

  “Okay…”

  “Destiny.” His voice held a crisp command. “Whatever you’re thinking—stop.”

  “Everything isn’t about you. I already asked Beverly for a ride home. I’m exhausted.”

  “You haven’t exactly gotten much sleep the last couple of days. I’ll have someone drop your car off tonight. You have another set of keys, yeah?”

  “I do. Hold up.” Destiny grabbed her tote, turned off the lights, and entering the gallery, mimed to Beverly that she was ready to leave. “When did you find out the car had been repaired?”

  “I plead the fifth.” It was her turn to grunt, and his laugh told her he found the sound amusing. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  He ended the call, and she couldn’t help but smile. This was really going to hurt when it ended, but she would have an amazing time until it did. She slipped her phone in her back pocket and looked up to find Beverly smirking. “They’re not keeping him in jail,” Destiny said.

  “Of course not. Anyone with eyes can see you’re a woman who’s been sexed up properly.” Beverly moved to the alarm panel. “You ready?”

  “More than ready.” Destiny hiked her tote up on her shoulder and stared out at the darkening sky and had a feeling her luck was about to change. Hopefully for the better.

  Chapter 19

  Vulcan looked up at Destiny’s cute house and grinned. Everything, the flower boxes at the windows, the crisp blue trim, even the quirky birdhouse in her tidy front yard, fit her personality. He felt like a fraud standing outside decked in fancy first-date attire, complete with tie, jacket and flowers. Luckily, since last seeing Destiny, he’d taken steps to set things right.

  He closed his eyes, inhaled, then raised his fist to knock, but stopped before his knuckles connected to the door. Caring sucked. It left you vulnerable in a way that made bullet wounds seem like a mere pinch. Putting himself out there, opening himself up to Destiny was terrifying.

  And wrong. He shook his head and grunted. This was a mistake. She’d get her gallery and he’d get gone. Yeah, he’d spent more time in Wyoming than he’d planned. The South Pacific was nice this time of year. He turned and was halfway to his truck before the door opened behind him.

  “Just where do you think you’re going?”

  Vulcan smoothed his tie and turned. One look told him he was screwed three ways till Sunday. Destiny had done something with her hair that made it gravity defying. How could her already big hair look even fluffier? The hair, the dress, and the strappy high heels were nice, but it was the unbridled joy that made her stunning.

  If only she knew how big a jerk he’d been.

  “Wow, Vulcan.” Her eyebrows rose, and her smile turned predatory. “Sweetheart, who needs dinner? You look good enough to eat.”

  “Coming from a woman who looks like a main course, I’ll take that as high praise.”

  He walked back to her front door and hesitated. Messing up her perfectly applied lipstick probably wouldn’t be a good idea. But the longer he looked at her soft, full lips, the less he gave a damn. Vulcan lowered his mouth to hers, and one touch reminded him why she was worth the trouble. He pulled away and swiped his thumb beneath her lower lip. “You’re always beautiful, but tonight, you take my breath away.”

  “Thank you.” Destiny stepped aside and motioned for him to enter. “Come in, please.”

  “Oh, these are for you.” He handed her the bouquet of wildflowers he’d almost forgotten he was holding.

  “These are my favorites,” she said, lowering her face toward the explosion of color.

  “It’s what you keep on your desk in the gallery.”

  “You noticed.” She placed her hand on his chest.

  “Yeah, sweetheart. I noticed.” He would tell her about the gallery tonight, and once they navigated that rough patch, he’d deal with the rest. “You should probably put those in water.”

  “You’re right,” she said, then walked to the small kitchen and laid the flowers on the counter while she reached for a vase.

  “Let me get that for you.” Vulcan opened one of the glass-faced cabinet doors and grabbed a simple pink vase made of depression glass.

  “Thanks.” She removed a pair of scissors from the drawer by the sink and snipped the bottoms of the flowers. “So, what’s been happening since I talked to you last night?”

  Now would be a great time to tell her that he was the asshole that purchased the building for higher than the asking price, but he couldn’t do that. Not when she looked so damned carefree. “Nothing much.”

  “There’s beer in the fridge if you want one, and you need to tell me everything.”

  “Looks like you have a fan club in the pack. Before we went up to the cabin, Leandro was already pissed.”

  “Really?” She filled the vase halfway with water and placed the flowers in their new home. “What did you do?”

  “He was mad at me for my uh… dick move with Mandy. I never apologized to you.”

  “You don’t have to, we weren’t together.”

  “True, but the intent was to hurt you.”

  “Oh.” She blinked up at him. “Are you going to tell me why?”

  “Yes,” He opened the refrigerator, then looked back at her. “But not tonight. That’s a conversation for another time, and I apologize for my cruelty.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  He held up a Blue Moon. “Want one of these?”

  “No, thank you, but I’ll take a glass of Chardonnay.” She looked at her watch. “We have time until our reservation.”

  Vulcan rested his beer on the butcher-block island and poured her a glass of wine.

  “Thank you.” She swirled her glass and tilted her head to the side. “It all turned out okay. Come on, you can’t leave me hanging. What happened with the pack?”

  He frowned, but he already knew Destiny wouldn’t let it go, so he told her the rest of it. “They apparently were ready to track us down and do a rescue operation.”

  “Leandro? That’s hilarious.”

  “Actually, it was Cai leading the charge.” Her giggle eased the sting that the wolves thought him capable of… Ah, who was he kidding? Vulcan knew he’d wanted to do far worse.

  “Since we’re talking about my abduction, you should probably know Fiona tried to get the FBI involved.”

  “I heard,” he sipped his beer. If they stayed any longer, he’d break down and tell her everything. “I should apologize for disrupting your life. But it would be a lie, and since it got us to this place,” he said, winking, “I have no complaints.”

  “Ditto.” She pressed her smiling lips together.

  “You look like you’re about to burst. What’s up?” He took another pull from his beer and studied the pretty shawl covering her torso.

  “Would you like to see the rest of dress?”

  Destiny walked around the island and stood in front of him. From the gleam in her eye, he already knew it was an awful idea because he already knew how good she looked under the shawl. And if the dress was even halfway as sexy as the rest of her, they wouldn’t make it to dinner. She took his silence for a yes and reached to pull the shawl off her shoulder.

  “No.” He covered her hand with his own and licked his lips. “I have a feeling if I see what’s under there
, we may not make it to dinner.”

  “Would that so bad?”

  “Yeah, it would.” Her slow smiled grew into something truly wicked, and he knew he was glad she’d opened the door tonight and prevented him from running away. “I need to prove this is about more than sex. “

  “To who? We both know the truth. So what anyone else thinks is not our problem.”

  “Even your girls?” He tugged at his tie. There was a reason he avoided the decorative nooses.

  “Even them.” She shook her head. “They thought you drugged me and that the snowstorm was a hallucination.”

  Shit. He slipped two fingers between his neck and the shirt’s collar. “Be thankful to have friends that care.”

  “I know, and it’s funny in a macabre sort of way.”

  “It would have been funnier if they’d called the cops on someone else.” If Fiona had a man, perhaps she’d stay out of their business.

  “True. Why are you fidgeting?”

  “I don’t do suits.” Or dates and flowers. But for her, he was prepared to travel miles beyond his comfort zone.

  “You wouldn’t mind wearing a suit if you knew how much I looked forward to peeling it off you.”

  “We should probably go,” Vulcan said, straightening and drinking the last of his beer before dropping the bottle in her recycling can. When he turned back to her, Destiny stood, sipping her wine as if they had all the time in the world.

  “You know,” she said, turning and walking out of the kitchen, only pausing when she reached the curved archway dividing the small dining and living room areas, “you look tense.”

  He swallowed because, once again, he knew Destiny had no intention of going along with the plan for the evening. “I’m good, just looking forward to showing you off to the world.”

  “That’s sweet. What will the world think of this?” She shook her shoulders and the silk shawl floated to the floor.

  “They’ll think…” Vulcan trailed off, allowing his gaze to travel down the crimson dress that seemed to hint at her curves rather than hug them. Pursing his lips, he performed a quick calculation to figure out the minimum amount of time that would pass before he could see the beauty beneath. “They’ll know I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

  “I think I have to agree with you on that.” Destiny tilted her head. “Let me go grab my purse and freshen my makeup, then we can leave.”

  “Not a—” When she turned, his eyes damned near rolled up in his head, stopping him mid-sentence. The front of the dress was sexy but almost sedate. The rest was nothing short of scandalous. It dipped right below the curve of her lower back. “Destiny, what are you wearing?”

  “This old thing?” She looked over her shoulder and shrugged. “We’d better hurry. You wouldn’t want to miss showing me off to the world.”

  She walked down the hallway.

  Vulcan was speechless. Either that or all the blood in his head had fled to regions farther south. Bright laughter shook him from his stupor, and he followed her as he removed his blasted tie.

  When they arrived at her bedroom, Destiny stood in front of her full-length mirror with her lipstick millimeters from its target.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked, trying—and failing—to sound innocent.

  “How disappointed would you be if we missed dinner?” His gaze drifted to her lower back, and the pool of draping fabric around it.

  “It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Whether or not we’re headed straight for dessert.”

  “What I’m planning to dine on is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” Vulcan moved behind her, holding her to his body with one arm and clasping her chin with the other. Then he kissed her properly.

  He hoped she’d loaded up on food, because it was going to be awhile before they left her bedroom. Later, after he told her about the gallery, he hoped she remembered how good they were together and not the fact that he was a manipulating bastard.

  Chapter 20

  Destiny looked up at Vulcan as they strolled down the covered sidewalk arm in arm. The people of Jackson considered anything above fifty degrees balmy. So even at eleven o’clock at night, and sixty-two degrees, the streets had a good-size crowd.

  They’d eaten sandwiches instead of an overpriced candlelit dinner, but as far as Destiny was concerned the evening was perfect—and would only get better. Each time she’d planned to tell Vulcan the good news about the gallery, he’d used his sex magic to render her speechless. Honestly, she was surprised she could walk. Plus, for a man his age, the short recovery time between rounds was impressive.

  Whoa. She just realized she had no idea how old Vulcan was. And since she was almost certain he wasn’t quite mortal, he could be anywhere from thirty-five to three hundred and fifty. How did she feel about that?

  Destiny gave herself a mental slap upside the head. They could deal with reality tomorrow. Tonight was all about fun and celebrating new beginnings.

  After they’d walked for a bit, Vulcan paused outside the Million Dollar Cowboy bar. She looked down at her dress. “Why didn’t you tell me you planned to bring me here? I would have changed into something else.”

  “That dress deserves to be seen, and I want to be the man beside you when the rest of the world realizes what I’ve always known.”

  “I should have suspected something when you left your jacket and tie at home.” She grimaced. Way to sound like a crazy woman. “I mean my house.”

  “It’s okay, I like the way that sounds.” Vulcan placed a large, warm hand on the side of Destiny’s neck. “If you don’t want to go here—”

  “No, I’m fine.” She lay a hand on his chest. “Sometimes I can’t believe how sweet you are.”

  “You mean when I’m not being an ass?”

  “Pretty much.” She looked up at him, and her heart nearly burst it felt so full. Destiny knew she needed to slow down, to hold back, but she’d worry about that tomorrow. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

  “Men aren’t beautiful,” he said in response to her question.

  Destiny opened her mouth to protest, but Vulcan placed a fingertip gently against her lips. “And even if they were, I wouldn’t fit into that category.”

  She nipped his finger. “I don’t know what planet you were raised on that you actually believe that, but okay.”

  “Let’s go inside before I change my mind and take you back to my truck and have my way with you again.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Destiny said as Vulcan pulled the door open.

  They stepped into a large well-lit space that was used to sell T-shirts and other merchandise on one side and framed pictures of cowboys on the other. When Vulcan placed his warm calloused hand on her lower back, she shivered. Going back to his truck sounded better with each passing second.

  The bar’s inside door opened and three women in tight jeans and tighter shirts stumbled out giggling. Apparently they were straight, because the chortling stopped at the sight of Vulcan.

  “Holy shit,” one of them said, coming to a stop and staring up at Vulcan, mouth agape.

  Vulcan’s fingers tensed on Destiny’s back, and he guided her to another door. “Excuse me, ladies.”

  “Oh sorry,” the redhead said, glancing at Destiny, embarrassed.

  “Trust me. I know the feeling,” Destiny said in response. She couldn’t be mad at them, the man—no, her man—was hot. The beard, the body, and the tattoos were pretty much the hottie trifecta.

  “Does he have a brother?” The redhead asked.

  Destiny’s smile faltered. She had no idea.

  “No.” Vulcan answered. “You ladies have a good evening.” He nodded at the bouncers at the door, handed over some cash and as they entered, glanced down at Destiny. “Are you okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Before he had the chance to push for an answer she wasn’t ready to give, a slow Lady Antebellum song came on.

  Vulcan held h
er gaze for several seconds before saying, “Let’s dance.” He removed his hand from her back, interlaced their fingers, and led her to the dance floor.

  Vulcan may not have noticed the stares, but she did. And she couldn’t blame the onlookers after the kidnapping fiasco. While she may not be a huge partier, the town was small, and she was the only Black gallery owner in Jackson. And as of today, that gallery was hers thanks to the generous terms of the mysterious seller. Tonight was all about celebrations and new beginnings.

  Vulcan stopped moving, raised their interlocked fingers, and placed a kiss on the back of her knuckles before settling the other hand on her back. His hand was high enough to be respectful and low enough to show anyone that hadn’t already figured it out—she was his. And she liked it.

  “I hope you don’t mind being the center of attention,” Vulcan said.

  As Destiny placed her hand on his crisp gray shirt, enjoying the play of muscles beneath her fingertips, she admitted she liked too much about this dangerous, complicated man. “Oh, you noticed that?”

  “They’re probably trying to figure out how a bastard like me got so lucky.”

  “No.” She shook her head and grinned. “I bet it’s more along the lines of did-he-or-did-he-not drug and kidnap her.”

  He chuckled, but didn’t respond. They danced in silence, swept away by the music, two-stepping clockwise around the dance floor with the other couples.

  She and Vulcan executed a complicated turn and dip. When he stood her upright, she nodded. “Impressive. Although from your other moves, I already knew you were a good dancer.”

  “Just good? I believe I have some scratches on my back that prove it was a whole lot better than pleasant.”

  “Fine. You are an accomplished and inventive dancer.” She laughed and slapped his chest. “How’s that?”

  “Better.” Vulcan trailed his thumb along the curve of Destiny’s spine, eliciting a sigh from her. “I like you like this. Happy suits you.”

  “Thank you,” she said, glancing at his sexy beard.