For The Love Of A God (12 page)

So it was.

He looked down at her and smiled knowingly. And moved his hand up to a respectable point on her back. “There. Problem remedied."

But as he twirled her around the dance floor, he knew it was only remedied for the time being. He wanted Maia with a force he'd never known. Not even Chloe had tempted him so.

And he was weak.

Hopefully he was strong enough to keep her safe.

Two hours later, Maia found herself at the sweets table with Sheila and Dino, needing sugary sustenance like she'd never needed it before. She inhaled a Nanaimo Bar, savoring its creamy, coconuty, chocolaty goodness.

Sheila grabbed her arm. “He said
what
?"

"Don't make me repeat it. Oh, God, don't make me repeat it,” Maia murmured. “I swear I'll come right here on the dance floor if I do."

"Something tells me he won't be put off,” Dino commented archly. “Check him out. In his head, he's already eating you up."

Trembling, Maia turned and saw Eric across the room. He leaned back on the bar, propped up on his elbows, and stared at her. At the same time he seemed to be humoring an elderly lady board member who was chatting at him, showing no signs of stopping. She could see the tension in his tight lips and the hard turn to his shoulder. And his eyes were focused only on her, like searchlights meant to illuminate his intense desire for her.

The desire he suddenly seemed unwilling to unleash.

She blinked. Since Eric's hot admission, she'd been a jittery bundle of nerves all night. Enflamed and frustrated at the same time. He made her head spin with all the back and forth action. First he kissed her, and then he ran away. He said he wanted her, but it was complicated. She'd spent the entire evening at his side, dancing and talking and laughing, but there had been sexual undertones all night. A touch here, a soft kiss on her neck there. He'd brushed his arm against her boobs a few times, sending jolts of red-hot fire coursing through her. And each exchange made him look more and more tortured.

Did he know what he wanted at all?

But then Maia watched as he ordered, paid for, and swiftly ingested what seemed to be his third glass of scotch. His eyes, always on her. Burning.

He knew what he wanted.

Good God, she'd never felt so hot! So desired.

But did she really want to be desired by a gorgeous man on a bender? Perhaps it was just the booze talking.

A tall, sexy redhead sauntered by Eric, giving him a pointed look of interest which would have made any man want to rut like a drooling beast. But his eyes were constantly trained on Maia. If he even did see the redhead, it didn't register on his face. Disappointed, the woman walked away.

Maia's head spun. What was
wrong
with Eric Lord? Couldn't he see all the flawless women in the room? All the very wealthy honeys who'd been fishing for him all night? Maia had never seen anything like it. Each time they'd danced, and he'd danced only with her, some vixen would try to separate them. Each time they wandered about the room, a sexy socialite with plastic boobs and unnaturally pouty lips would hand him her card. A card he'd promptly toss onto a nearby table.

And he'd never taken his eyes off her. Maia Douglas. The one who couldn't walk in heels. The one in the borrowed gown. The one who always had a foot in her mouth. It was unbelievable.

To top off the ludicrous situation, he was acting like a bear. Maia had been pleasantly surprised to see Wally from the cleaning staff at the gala. Cleaners didn't generally show up at these types of functions. But when Wally, who was sixty-five if he was a day, tried to cut in on one of their dances, Eric had almost taken the poor man's head off. Under the pretense of visiting the bathroom later, Maia ended up seeking out Wally instead, to apologize profusely. Thank God the poor guy hadn't been too bothered by Eric's possessive muttering.

She considered Eric as he took another long swig of scotch, wincing at the burn. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Maybe he had a disease or strange affliction. Maybe he had early onset Alzheimer's and was confusing her with a Kardashian.

Mind you, he'd looked pretty healthy when he was naked in her apartment. In his prime and definitely not feeble in any way. And his penis... Maia shuddered and felt her vagina clench in a wickedly delicious response.

Feeling oh-so-scorched, she tried in vain to fan herself with her sequined bag. None of it mattered anyway, seeing as he said he shouldn't be with her.

"Uh-oh,” said Dino. “Jailbait's in the house."

They all turned. Maia watched Sarah enter the room, looking fabulously young and fabulously blonde. Legs up to here and a gown so short they could all tell her waxing preferences. She made a beeline for Eric, with some guy trailing quietly behind her.

Frowning, Maia looked at the man. He was tall and black-haired and devastatingly gorgeous. And seemed so familiar...

"Wow,” said Dino. “All I ask of this life is to have one single date who looks that hot."

"I know,” Sheila concurred. “Sarah's looking pretty awesome."

"I was talking about the guy,” retorted Dino. “Well, even with that hunk on her arm, she's still headed for Eric."

"He's her boss,” Maia muttered. “She has to talk to him.” Even still, she frowned as Eric greeted her with a huge bear hug. Maybe it was a brotherly hug. She didn't comprehend how anyone could have brotherly intentions toward Sarah. Her long legs and perky boobs screamed, “Take me, I'm yours."

Hating herself for doing it, Maia attempted to read Eric's lips. He seemed to be saying something about how lovely Sarah looked. How perfect. How scrumptious. How enticing... She could go on and on. And Sarah was beaming at him.

And then Eric turned to Sarah's date, the mystery man, and shook his hand. Looking very much like he'd met him before. But she didn't pay the man much attention. It was Sarah who bothered her. The sight of her with Eric was a little too much to bear. In five minutes, he'd given his assistant more smiles than he'd given her all night. Than he'd
ever
given her.

"Okay,” she said to her friends. “Can I just say I really hate how jealous I'm feeling right now? Eric tells me he wants me, but that he shouldn't be with me. Why is it he acts like he's in pain when he's with me, but with her, he's all sweetness and light?” She turned her back on the scene across the room, so annoyed it bugged the heck out of her.

"Aw, honey, there has to be something wrong with her. I'm sure she's just been given those looks to make up for some horrible personality defect,” said Sheila as she patted Maia's shoulder.

"Or Chlamydia,” Dino concurred with a kind smile. “Besides, Sarah's beauty is way too ... obvious. Too accessible. You're more mysterious, and thanks to us, super hot tonight. Eric couldn't keep his hands off you."

"Well, I'm sure he's come to his senses now Sarah the blonde goddess has entered the room,” Maia said. “And you know what? It's fine with me. I'm tired of this game. He can go shower Sarah with his intense, withering gazes and contradictions. I don't need his kisses."

"You go, girl,” said Dino. “Ooh, look! Check it out. Sarah and her date are dancing now. And the guy's eating her face."

Maia looked. True enough. Eric had disappeared, but the dark-haired man did indeed look as if he were trying to inhale Sarah through her mouth. But, God, it was sexy! Powerful. Raunchy. Even from across the room, she could see their tongues tangling.

Lord, it made her even more frustrated and horny. She wanted it too, and wondered if she'd washed her hands of Eric's kisses a little too soon.

Where
was
Eric anyway?

Within seconds of stepping outside into the fresh air to clear his head, Eric knew it wouldn't help. Every smoker from the gala seemed to feel the need for a cancer stick break at the same time. Now he had a boner, his head was pounding from the drink,
and
his nose was stuffy. He'd never understand the mortal obsession with nicotine. There were much more enticing obsessions out there.

Like Maia.

In a short time, she had indeed become his obsession. And it wasn't good. That was how things with Chloe had started.

And yet, he knew they had never escalated this quickly, even then.

Yes, he'd grown to love Chloe. At least, he thought it was love. Certainly, it was the closest he'd ever come to real love. But, in all honesty, it had been a tad one-sided. He'd been a cad with her. Using her for his pleasure, telling himself he was giving her the ultimate pleasure as well. It hadn't stopped him from fucking every other passing willing female.

Sure, he'd been another man then. A selfish one. But was he really any different now?

He'd promised to make Chloe a goddess, his wife, knowing she so wanted to hear those words. She so wanted to please him. But even before Nemesis started sniffing around, he'd grown bored and told himself Chloe would be fine on her own for a while. And had sunk into a drunken pit of debauched pleasure at one of Dionysus's orgies.

He'd killed her as effectively as Nemesis had. And the guilt lived on to torment him through the centuries.

He knew in his heart, as well as he knew his own face, he wouldn't survive the guilt of hurting another. Better he suffer alone than hurt Maia with his attentions.

But was it already too late? Nemesis had seen them about to make love. Had she seen the fervor in his eyes, the want? The need for Maia?

Surely, if she thought he loved her, she would have struck by now.

Did
he love her?

It was so soon. And yet, the thought of her with another man at the dance had thrown him into a jealous rage.

Staring through the smoky haze, he made up his mind. It was time to go away altogether. It was time to disappear and let Maia forget all about him. Then Nemesis would go away too.

She'd be safe. They'd both be alone, but Maia would be safe.

Eric looked back once at the banquet hall entrance and started walking away toward the parking lot.

At first, he didn't hear Sheila Flynn's raised voice. “Mr. Lord,” she called. “Eric! Wait!"

He turned, blinking. What did she want with him?

Sheila ran up to him, as quickly as she could in her stilettos. Her pretty blue eyes reflected just how worried she was. “I just saw something. I didn't know where you were so I came out here."

"Yeah,” he muttered. “I needed some air."

"You have to come!"

"Look, Sheila ... please just tell Maia I have to go—"

"No, you have to come!” She pulled on his sleeve. “Maia's in trouble."

Eric blanched and sprinted back toward the hall.

"Get off me!” Maia shoved at Jeremy again, but he persisted in pawing at her.

"Oh, come on, baby. You're clearly up for it,” the board member slurred. “Just look at your sexy dress."

Maia cringed as Jeremy breathed on her, smelling way too much like way too many pina coladas. Something told her the smell of pineapple and coconut would make her eye twitch for a long time to come.

He leaned in for another wet kiss, which she fended off as best as she could.

It was uncanny how they'd run into each other in the coat-check room. She'd ventured there looking for Eric, and thought she'd heard his voice somewhere near the back, behind a rack of wraps and trenches. But when she'd entered the room, it was Jeremy hiding in back.

The young board member had been moping and crying, something about his wife leaving him. But as soon as he spied Maia, his eyes had brightened, and he'd pounced on her. Way too spry for a drunken guy.

And now she couldn't get him off her. “Look, Jeremy, let's get you some coffee and go talk. Somewhere more public."

"Nah, I like it here, baby.” His wet lips parted with the sleepy grin of a very inebriated, yet very stimulated man. “You're so hot. I never noticed before. Gimme some sugar."

"I don't want to give you sugar. I'll give you the back of my hand if you don't stop touching my boob!” She wrenched his big hand from her chest.

Jeremy was not to be deterred. “You know, my family gives a lot of money to the museum. You should act a little more thankful.” He lunged at her, cornering her against the wall. And then he came at her again, all dribbling mouth and soggy tongue.

Oh, this is too much
, thought Maia.
The one man who I wish would kiss me won't, and this one won't stop.

She turned her head, evading his kiss, and got an earful of tongue. “Oh, yuck. Help! Someone. Anyone!"

"Stay still, baby. You'll love it, I promise."

He might have been drunk, but he was big and heavy, and she was getting tired of fighting him off. She shoved against his chest again, and thought she might have succeeded in moving him.

But then his large hand reached between her legs, and he squeezed.

Maia's eyes popped and she screamed. It was official now. She was scared.

Oh God, where
was
everybody? Where was Eric?

"Get the fuck off her, or I swear I will take your head off, asshole."

Maia peeked over Jeremy's shoulder at the voice. Eric's voice. Sheila was behind him, looking terrified.

Eric looked ready to kill. He was seething. Lip curled. Fists clenched. Eyes blazing a virulent green. She could almost hear his heart racing.

"Mind your own business,” Jeremy garbled and then turned back to Maia.

She didn't even see Eric move. Before Jeremy could even consider swiping another kiss, Eric had him by the scruff of the neck and had pulled him off her. With no apparent effort on his part, he tossed Jeremy against the back wall and watched as he landed on one of the coat racks, bringing it all down with a loud clang.

In the blink of an eye, Eric was at her side, holding her. He whispered against her hair. “Are you okay?"

"I think so. It all happened so fast."

He looked down at her, his eyes wild. “Christ, Maia. He touched you."

As much as she was unnerved by Jeremy's erratic behavior, she couldn't ignore the thrill of seeing Eric looking as if he would kill for her. But his obvious pain upset her, too. He looked more upset than she felt, and she needed to comfort him. “I'm fine. Really. He's just upset about his wife. He probably won't even remember this tomorrow morning."