A Taste of Greek (Out of Olympus #3) (17 page)

“What are you gonna do to me?”

Was that fear that shone from her eyes now?

He leaned closer, bringing his mouth to hover only inches over hers. “First I’m going to make you help me find my second sandal, and then—” He made a dramatic pause. “Then I’m going to dole out your punishment.”

What that punishment would consist of he wasn’t entirely sure yet.

22

Penny pressed the gas pedal down and felt the car accelerate. She tried to concentrate on the mid-morning traffic in the city, but Hermes, sitting in the passenger seat, made mincemeat of her efforts. Had he really said he was a god and wanted to punish her? Yes, there was nothing wrong with her ears, which meant that there was clearly something wrong with Hermes.

How could she not have seen this coming? She’d heard of cases like these before: where some mentally ill person got totally sucked into his own make-belief world that he couldn’t distinguish reality from fantasy anymore. Only, she’d never heard of somebody who’d actually thought he was a god. Megalomania, yes that was what they called it. But were megalomaniacs dangerous? Would he go so far as to hurt her?

She cast him a sideways glance. Hermes appeared calm, but what if it was all a façade? It was best to treat him with kid gloves, best to go along with anything he demanded and find that damned second sandal. And once they had it back, she had to hightail it out of there. Maybe once he had his little prop back—because that was all it could be, a prop for his elaborate fantasy—he might be appeased.

Would it hurt to find out more about this strange fantasy he was living in? Curiosity made her ask, “So when you’re not in Charleston, where do you live as a god?”

He turned his head to her, arching an eyebrow. “So you believe me?”

Penny swallowed, sweat building on her forehead. “Uh . . . ”

“Well of course you don’t; why would you?” he said and looked out the side window. “Sophia didn’t believe Triton at first either. Thought he was mentally ill. A lunatic.” He turned to her again and grinned. “Is that what you think of me? That I’m a lunatic?”

Her palms felt damp and she clamped them tighter around the steering wheel. Was this a trap? Would he lash out at her once she admitted that this was exactly what she thought of him?

“No, of course not. I mean, everything fits, right? Your name, the sandals, the names of your friends. You guys talking about teleporting to Olympus.” She didn’t meet his eyes, staring straight at the traffic instead, hoping that he couldn’t tell that she didn’t believe him.

“You’re a terrible liar, Penny.”

His hand slipped onto her thigh, making her heart stop and her body jolt at the contact.

“Does it disgust you to be touched by me, now that you think I’m crazy?” His hand moved higher up her leg, sliding ever so slightly along the inside of her thigh. “The night before last, you liked my touch. You enjoyed what we did. I remember distinctly how you surrendered to my hands, my lips—”

He slipped his hand between her legs, pressing his fingers against her sex, making her release a startled cry.

“—my cock. When I was inside you, by the gods, it felt like heaven.”

Her throat went dry at the same time as liquid heat shot to her sex. “Please . . . ” She had to make him stop. She couldn’t go down this road again.

“Please, what? More?” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper, his hand pressing against her mound. Even through her light summer dress, he found her clit with unerring precision.

“Stop! Please!” she begged, almost panting. “I’ll get your sandal back, I swear. Please don’t . . . ”

“Touch you?” he finished her sentence, a smile evident in his voice, almost as if he was toying with her.

Maybe he was.

“Fine,” he suddenly agreed and lifted his hand from her. “But this is not over.”

Relieved, Penny pulled into her assigned parking spot at the university and killed the engine. “We’re here.”

As they made their way to Irene’s lab, Penny filled her lungs with air. At least in the large hallways of the university building, she could breathe without feeling Hermes’ overpowering heat and masculine scent all around her.

“This way,” she instructed and turned onto the corridor where the lab was located. She pointed to the entrance door and opened it without knocking.

Hermes followed her inside, and she heard the door snap in behind them. There was a small reception area with a counter, then several glass doors on the other side of it. They led into various rooms of the laboratory, each outfitted with different highly sophisticated-looking scientific equipment.

Penny rang the small bell on the counter to attract somebody’s attention. A side door opened and Irene entered, dressed in her white lab coat, a clipboard in her hand. Irene looked straight at her, approaching instantly.

“Hey, Penny,” she said, her voice not as cheerful as she normally sounded, clearly still upset about the theft.

Penny could only hope that Hermes wouldn’t be unpleasant to her and upset her even further. “Hi, Irene,” she started. “I’m sorry to have to bother you again, but my friend here, he wanted to talk to you. You know, about the sandal. It was his.”

Regret flitted over Irene’s face, and she reached her hand out to Hermes. “Hi, I’m Irene. I’m so sorry. I really don’t know what to say. We’ve never had a theft like that here. Nobody has ever stolen anything that valuable from my lab.”

Penny noticed how Hermes narrowed his eyes, shaking Irene’s hand. “But there have been thefts. Is that what you’re saying?”

Irene shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I wouldn’t call them thefts.”

“What then?” Hermes insisted.

“Shrinkage. You know, supplies disappearing. Stuff like that. But that’s normal in any large institution.”

Hermes nodded. “I see. So tell me what happened. You did the carbon-dating. And then? What happened after that?”

Irene frowned. “Well, first of all, I’m not done with the test yet. I took a small sample and set it all up, but I didn’t have time to finish it. I mean, it was Sunday and I had to go to a family function. So I left.”

“And the sandal?” Hermes pressed.

“I put it back into the room where we normally keep all specimen that are here for testing.” She pointed to one of the glass-enclosed rooms at her back.

“When was that?”

Irene shrugged. “Not exactly sure.”

Hermes leaned over the counter, and Penny instinctively took a step toward him in case he wanted to attack Irene. “Try to remember.”

“Well, I got to the party at around 4 o’clock, so I must have left here shortly before two.”

“And when did you realize the sandal was gone?”

“This morning. I came in at around seven thirty and wanted to continue with the testing, but the sandal wasn’t in the specimen area anymore.”

Penny watched Hermes’ reaction and was surprised to see that he didn’t appear to be angry. He seemed rather calm and collected. Or was this the quiet before the storm?

“So that would have given the thief from two o’clock on Sunday afternoon until seven thirty this morning to break in and steal the sandal,” Hermes concluded.

“Sure, but how?” Irene asked. “There was no sign of a break-in.”

Knowing that no sign of a break-in meant that Irene was the most likely culprit, Penny felt compelled to ask, “Who else has access to this lab other than you?”

“My assistant, the janitor, and the university security office of course. But my assistant is on vacation in South America, and the janitor has been with us for over twenty years.”

Hermes nodded, then put his hand on the small of Penny’s back. “Thanks, Irene. Let’s go, Penny.”

“I’m really sorry,” Irene professed once more.

“I know you are,” Hermes said and turned, ushering Penny out of the lab and into the hallway.

Did his actions mean that he believed Irene and had eliminated her as a suspect? “And now?”

Hermes turned to her. “Now, my sweet Penny, you’re going to tell me who else knows about the sandals.”

“But I’ve told you already!”

He gripped her arms and pulled her closer. “There has to be somebody else. Somebody must have seen you with the sandals.” He motioned his head to the door of the lab. “Irene didn’t steal it.”

“Well, I told you so before. She’d never do anything like that,” Penny ground out.

“You do understand that I have to verify these claims myself, don’t you? After all, you’ve lied to me before.”

That jab hurt. She dropped her lids, evading his penetrating gaze.

“Now, think: did anybody else see the sandals?”

Her head felt like exploding. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“What did you do with them before you brought that sandal to the lab?” he asked, his tone even more insistent than before. Would he snap now?

“Damn it, I can’t think!” she stammered, fear making her memories of the event fuzzy. Tears welled up in her eyes.

23

Hermes closed the door to Penny’s office behind him and watched her as she walked to her desk. He’d noticed the flash of fear in her eyes when he’d pressed her for more information. And he hadn’t liked seeing her like that. Maybe it was time to at least assure her that he wasn’t going to hurt her. He needed her to think clearly so she would be of help in retrieving his sandal, and as long as she feared him, she wouldn’t be of much help.

Hermes crossed the distance between them, and put his hands on her shoulders. She shrieked, her body stiffening.

“Shhh, baby, I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered into her ear. “Relax. You’re all tense.” He slowly started massaging her neck and shoulders.

“Oh,” she said without pulling away.

“There,” he cooed, continuing to knead her tight shoulders, trying to loosen the knots that had formed there. Her head dropped forward, and he felt her relax into his touch. “See, that’s better. Now just relax and try to think back to when you had the sandals here. Think back step-by–step, and remember what happened yesterday morning.”

All the while, he massaged her tense shoulders with slow strokes and rubbed his thumbs in slow circles along her vertebrae. Penny’s breathing slowed, as did her heartbeat. If he wanted to, he could simply turn her into his arms now and kiss her until they were both breathless, and she wouldn’t give him any resistance. But as much as he wanted to do just that, they were here to do something more important.

A soft sigh rolled over Penny’s lips, reminding him of the sounds of pleasure she’d made in his arms on Saturday night. It seemed eons ago. At the thought of their lovemaking, his massaging strokes turned into caresses, his fingers sliding into her hair, gently touching her skull. Without thinking, he made a step closer, bringing his body flush to hers, feeling her lean against him.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured.

“Kenton,” she whispered.

Shock at hearing another man’s name come over her lips catapulted him back. Penny whirled around in the same instant, her eyes wide.

“I was taking photographs of the sandals.” She pointed to a camera on her desk. “Kenton came in while I was doing that. He looked at them. And he was curious. I told him they were replicas.”

“Kenton?”

“Yes, he’s an assistant professor in my department.” She paused. “And he’s competing for the same tenure spot I am.”

If that wasn’t a coincidence then he didn’t know what was. Blind ambition could drive people to do lots of things. “Well, looks like a motive to me. Where can I find him?”

Penny charged toward the door. “I’m going to give that asshole a piece of my mind!”

Grinning, Hermes followed her. Penny had her spirit back, and he rather liked her like that: feisty, combative, and full of fire. Ah, yeah, a woman after his own heart!

He followed her, putting his hand on her upper arm to slow her down. She glared at him. “As if it wasn’t enough for him to sleep with Michelle! That little creep!”

“Who’s Michelle?”

“The dean of the history department. She sits on the tenure committee. Sleeping with her is his way of assuring he gets tenure instead of me! Wait until Michelle hears that he’s a thief!”

Hermes stopped her, grabbing both her shoulders and turning her to face him. “I think I have to point out something to you: you stole them from me first, and besides, nobody can find out about the sandals. You can’t tell the dean about it. I can’t risk exposure like that.”

She looked at him with confusion in her eyes. “Exposure? But don’t you want him punished?”

“Of course I want him punished. But not by the dean or the police. Now let’s go and find out what he’s done with it.” He released her shoulders. “And let me do the talking.”

“But—”

“Please,” he said softly.

With a brief nod, she relented and continued walking. After the next turn, she stopped in front of a door.
Kenton Lowry, Assistant Professor, Greek Studies
, it said on a plaque next to the door. Penny lifted her hand to knock, but Hermes stopped her and reached for the door handle instead, opening the door swiftly.

He entered the room amidst a surprised gasp coming from the only occupant.

Kenton wasn’t an overly large man; in fact, he was what Hermes would call a pretty boy, his dark hair perfectly coiffed, his clothes pressed, his nails manicured.

Kenton tossed Hermes an irritated look. “Can I help you?” His voice was clipped. Then his eyes strayed past Hermes. “Oh, Penny,” he said a tiny fraction friendlier. “What’s going on? Doesn’t anybody knock anymore?”

But before Penny could answer, Hermes leaned over Kenton’s desk. “About the sandals,” he started and noticed Kenton’s eyes widen almost unnoticeably.

“What sandals?”

Hermes motioned toward Penny. “The sandals you saw in Penny’s office yesterday morning. What did you do with them?”

Kenton jumped up, his chest puffed out like a peacock. “What are you insinuating?” He glared past him at Penny. “Who is this maniac?”

“He’s the owner of the sandals,” Penny replied.

“Maniac, huh?” Hermes grunted. “How about injured party?” He glanced around the room, noticing only now that the walls were adorned with replicas of ancient Greek weapons. A thought penetrated his mind. “Or would
you
rather be the injured party?”