Goddess of Love (14 page)

“You're very perceptive,” she finally said.

“It comes from having four sisters. And you didn't answer my question.”

“No, I didn't. Four sisters and how many brothers?”

“None. Just the sisters.”

Venus smiled. “Are you the eldest?”

“Unfortunately.”

His tone made her laugh and, as if her amusement had directed it, “Brick House” moved smoothly into an alluring song about a place called “Baker Street.” Over Griffin's shoulder, Venus could see Pea, with a look of determination on her attractively flushed face, beginning to make her way through the dance floor back to the table, even though the man with whom she had been dancing was clearly trying to coax her into staying.

“Come on, my goddess. You need some air.” Griffin tucked her hand into his elbow, and before she could make any kind of protest at being manhandled or at the presumptuous way he had called her
my
goddess, he began guiding her from the room.

Venus looked back and caught Pea's surprised gaze, quickly pantomiming that she was going outside, and fanned herself like she was overly hot. With a shooing motion, she made it very clear to Pea that she should keep dancing. Pea's partner saw the exchange and seized the opportunity, taking her hand and pulling her back onto the dance floor as Griffin maneuvered Venus through the restaurant's front door.

Outside the night was calm and cool, the moon beautiful and full. Tall, iron trees pumped pools of warmth around the wrought iron tables and chairs that were placed up and down the sidewalk in front of Lola's. A large outdoor oven perfumed the air with the scent of pinion smoke. Small white lights decorated the ornamental trees, casting a magical glow from their winter branches. The band's music could easily be heard outside, and a few costumed couples were dancing on the sidewalk. It was a lovely, romantic scene, and Venus was very aware of the tall man who still had her hand trapped. True, she hadn't tried very hard to disengage herself, which was (she told herself firmly) more at surprise at being touched without her permission than because of the attraction she felt for Griffin.

Of course, she should pull her hand from his arm. His warm, muscular arm.

“Over here,” he said. Not giving her a chance to move away, Griffin guided her to an empty table, pulled a chair back for her, and only then released her hand so that she could sit.

“So, tell me. Why did you want Pea to dance instead of you?” he said as he sat across from her.

“You recognize Pea?” Venus hated the sliver of jealousy she felt. Ridiculous. After all, her intent that night had been to bring Pea to this very man's notice.

“Of course. As soon as I saw you I realized she must be with you. You two were at Lola's the other day, and then day before yesterday you were in the T-Bird together.”

“Again, you're very observant.” She made herself add, with a lie, “And you're clearly interested in my good friend, Pea.” He hadn't been looking at Pea on the dance floor. His attention had been clearly, predatorily, focused on her. “So, we should go back inside so you and Pea can—”

His touch broke off her words as his hand covered hers. “I am not interested in your little friend.”

“You're not?” Venus's mouth felt dry.

“No.” His thumb made a lazy circle on the soft skin of her hand. “And I'm glad you sent Zorro packing. Cutting in on a crowded dance floor like that can cause an ugly scene, and I definitely would have cut in. Scene or no scene.”

Venus's hand tingled where he was touching her. Her stomach clenched. She pulled her hand away from him. “I'm not dancing tonight,” she said abruptly.

“Why not?” He was totally unruffled that she'd pulled away from him. Instead he gave her another slow, steady smile.

Venus opened her mouth to make a flippant remark and found herself thrown off by the way he kept looking at her. Then it hit her, right in the gut.
He really has no idea that I'm the Goddess of Love. He's truly seducing me as he would a mortal woman.
The thought was so profound that she blurted the truth.

“It's important that my friend bask in attention tonight. When I dance I tend to call attention to myself, especially male attention, so I thought it would be best if I left the dancing to her.”

Even through the mask, she saw his expression shift to surprise. “That's unusually generous of you.”

“You believe that I'm not usually generous?”

As before, he took his time answering her. “Experience has taught me that women who are very beautiful can be callous about others' feelings.”

“That's a cynical point of view.”

He shrugged. “I think it's realistic.”

“Are your sisters very beautiful?”

His lips quirked. “They are.”

“And callous?”

He held up his hands, as if in surrender, and laughed, a sensuous sound Venus felt tickle up and down her spine. “I'll never say that. Instead I'd just say that my beautiful sisters are like all women—complex.”

Venus smiled. “An excellent answer. And you should know that I am Goddess of Love.” She pointed at her name tag, loving the freedom of being able to proclaim it, and at the same time remain unrecognized. “So I speak with authority when I say that Love may seem callous, but usually only to those untouched by her.”

“I recognized you right away, Goddess. Venus is actually my favorite goddess.”

One of her slim brows arched up. “Is she?”

Griffin lifted a shoulder. “Okay, she's the only goddess I know anything about.”

Intrigued, Venus asked, “And what do you know about her?”

“Just the normal stuff. You know, born of the ocean, Goddess of Love and Beauty. That's about it. Anyway I'm interested in what you were saying before. Did you mean that true love is generous, versus the pretenses of love, like lust and infatuation?”

Her smiled was delighted. Not only did he know about her birth, but he'd managed to keep up with her conversation. Too often men, mortal and immortal, did nothing but stare into her eyes, or at her breasts, and let their minds sink down between their legs when they spoke to her. This man was sexy and confident and intelligent—definitely a lethal combination. “Yes, that's exactly what I meant. True love can be differentiated from its imposters by its generosity. Are you always this perceptive about women and love?”

“I think there are a lot of people who would say that I don't usually pay much attention to either.”

“I don't believe that. Not from the brother of four beautiful sisters.”

“Generous and wise,” he said, with a smile, enjoying her insight. “But then, I am in the presence of a goddess.”

“You are, indeed.” Venus inclined her head graciously, enjoying their banter almost as much as she liked the easy way he talked with her, and the predatory way he looked at her. There was nothing submissive or worshipful about Griffin, and she found that refreshing as well as alluring.

A tattooed waiter cleared his throat and asked for their order.

“I'll have another lovely pomegranate martini, darling,” Venus said.

“Macallan scotch, straight up.”

The waiter nodded and hurried off, and the music changed again. Venus couldn't stop her body from moving with the rhythmic beat of a song that proclaimed, “It's raining men.” She laughed as all the women on the sidewalk began to dance together, raising their arms and singing loudly to the chorus.

“Go on, dance with them.”

Glancing through the plate-glass restaurant window, Venus found Pea, still buried on the dance floor.

“Pea's fine. Dance for me, Goddess of Love. I'll protect you if anyone can't handle himself.”

Griffin's tone was a clear challenge. Perhaps he should experience a little of the passion Love could evoke.

“I'll remind you later that I warned you.”

He grinned mischievously. “Why not see what Love can do?”

“Yes, darling,” she said with a purr. “Why not?”

Feeling sexy and deliciously decadent, Venus joined the other women. The music entered her body, as it always did, and the goddess let herself go. She danced for Griffin, forgetting Pea's infatuation, forgetting the other people on the sidewalk, forgetting everything except the beat of the music, the glorious magic of the night, and
him
. Tossing her hair and moving in perfect harmony with the modern music she was graceful and seductive—alluring and adept. The women who danced around her tried to emulate the silk-swathed vision in the blazing mask, drawn by her laughter and beauty. The men stared hungrily at her, especially Griffin. She could feel the heat of his gaze as if his hands were on her, and it made her flush with excitement and anticipation.

Venus danced, and for the first time in her eons of existence she reveled in the fact that no one knew she was anything but a beautiful, frolicking mortal. She didn't have to consider what Love loosened would mean to Griffin. He wasn't worshipping a deity. He was simply ogling a beautiful, mortal woman. When the song ended, Venus collapsed against the other women, and they all laughed breathlessly.

The tempo of the music changed. The lead singer of the band began to croon, “Thanks for the times that you've given me. The memories are all in my mind….”

“Dance with me.”

Venus looked up, and Griffin was there. His blue eyes seemed to blaze with the intensity of his fiery mask. He didn't wait for her answer. Without another word he pulled her roughly into his arms. One hand took hers—the other pressed firmly against the small of her back, holding her body against his.

Venus let him claim her. She had never allowed herself to be led by any man, but Griffin masterfully guided her away from the others, melding her body to his and moving them in seductive time to the music until they were dancing alone under a tree in a mixed pool of twinkling light and shadows.

No one had ever taken her in his arms without her permission or by her express command. No one. Neither man nor god, in all the eons of her existence, had touched her without her approval. Until now. Venus couldn't believe how incredibly seductive it was. She met his eyes and let the crackling intensity of sexual chemistry sizzle between them.

She wanted him.

The thought surprised her. Then she was shocked by her surprise. By the overused phallus of Neptune! Why shouldn't she allow herself the indulgence of this delicious man? Why not give in to this seductive game of pretending to be mortal?

Because Pea desires him
drifted through her mind. But Griffin had made it clear that he didn't desire Pea. So why deny herself such a virile lover? It didn't make sense. And, surely, Pea would understand. Pea wouldn't continue to be interested in a man who so clearly wasn't interested in her. Besides, how long had it been since she truly paid attention to her own desires?

Venus knew the answer. For centuries she had fallen into the habit of seeing to the needs of others—of answering the heartfelt prayers of others—of ignoring her own desires. She even knew when the habit had started. It had begun with her marriage to poor, solitary Vulcan. What an abysmal mistake that had been.

And the thought struck her that perhaps Pea wasn't the only one whose life needed a makeover.

F
rom the instant she began to dance, Griffin felt as if someone had
punched him in the gut. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

No, that wasn't right. She wasn't just beautiful—that was too simple a word. If love could be made physical, this woman whose name tag so appropriately read Venus, Goddess of Love, would be his choice for the personification. And it wasn't just about sex—although he was goddamned sure every man out there, including himself, had hard-ons from watching her move. It was about her uninhibited laughter. The joyous way she tossed back her hair and embraced the music as if she actually were an ancient pagan goddess they should fall to their knees and worship.

He sure as hell understood why she hadn't wanted to dance inside. After watching her, how could a man be interested in any other woman?

“Fucking weird,” he muttered to himself, never taking his eyes off her. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had gotten under his skin like this. Shit, women had been chasing him around since he'd outgrown his teenage zits and gawkiness. He'd been happy to return their interest, but he'd never had the desire to settle down with one. Two of his sisters said he was commitmentphobic. The other two said he had high standards and refused to settle. He thought the truth was probably somewhere in between.

Then this blonde walked into his life.

The dance ended and Griffin was on his feet heading toward her without consciously telling himself to move. Several of the other men had the same idea and he heard himself literally growling at them. He wanted her. He wanted her worse than he'd ever wanted anyone.

“Dance with me.”

He hadn't waited for a response, but had taken her in his arms and begun maneuvering her away from the eyes of the other men. She felt soft and warm and she smelled like an exotic spice he couldn't place. They danced slowly under the tree, still not speaking, and he started to worry that he'd done something wrong. Or had he just imagined that she was as kind and smart as she was beautiful? Maybe she wasn't saying anything because she didn't have shit to say. He tried to look through her mask to the woman beneath, but all he could see were those violet eyes and those luscious lips that smiled so easily before, but were now set in a line that managed to look both aloof and sad.

“You were right,” he said, falling back on what always worked with his sisters. Make them right and everything got instantly better.

“About?”

“About not dancing inside the restaurant.”

“Yes,” she said absently.

“Once, twice, three times a lady…” was all that filled the silence between them, and Griffin was beginning to feel desperate. At a total loss, he blurted the truth.

“You look sad.”

She seemed to shake herself and refocused on him. “Not sad, just thoughtful.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“Are you taking care of me as you would one of your sisters?”

He splayed the fingers of his hand intimately against the small of her back, very aware that all that separated his flesh from hers was a couple layers of flimsy silk. He held her gaze with his. “I don't feel brotherly toward you at all.”

“Good.” She sounded breathless.

He pulled her closer. He felt the slow, steady heaviness in his loins tightening and heating in response to her.

“I don't even know your name,” he said huskily.

Her smile was teasing. “You should. You're dancing with your wife.”

Her words took him completely off guard.

Venus laughed and the sound was so compelling that his desire to see her laugh and smile more was suddenly as great as his physical desire for her.

“Don't look so shocked,” she said, still laughing. “You're Vulcan, God of Fire. I'm Venus, Goddess of Love. Vulcan and Venus are married.”

He let his hand trace a lazy circle around the small of her back. “Sorry,
Venus
, my mythology is rusty. Are you sure the God of Fire is Vulcan? I thought that was Ares.” Then he was ferociously glad that he was semiclueless about mythology when his comment made her toss back her head and laugh again.

“Oh, I'm sure!”

He grinned. “So we're married.”

“Definitely.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leaned even closer to him. “But rumors have it that it's just a marriage of convenience and strictly platonic.”

“Bullshit!” he said, pretending offense—which he found damn easy to do. Just imagining being in a platonic marriage with this woman was enough to set his teeth to grinding. “No wonder I never got into those myths. Too damn hard to believe.”

“You don't believe our marriage is platonic?”

“No, I don't.”

She shrugged, eyes still sparkling playfully. “Who am I to argue with my husband?”

It was his turn to laugh. “I don't believe the Goddess of Love would be a submissive wife any more than I believe she'd be a passionless one.”

“Well, husband, I'm glad to see we understand each other.” She paused, and added in a voice that was suddenly hesitant and a little shy, “You might be surprised, though. Even a goddess can make mistakes. Who knew love could be intimate with loneliness?”

“You've been lonely, wife?” He meant it to be a teasing question, but the unexpected sincerity in her expression turned his tone serious.

She looked into his eyes and Griffin felt his heart contract. What had made this incredible woman so sad? He didn't know, but he did know that if the guy was here he'd make him sorry he ever drew breath.

“I have,” she said softly. “We should have never married. We've both been unbearably sad. Friendship can only be an addition to, not a substitute for, true love.”

Griffin felt her words move through him. Like they had parted a curtain, he realized just how alone his loveless life had become. “And neither is waiting and searching.” He drew a deep breath, not sure where this was leading them, but not wanting to break the spell of intimacy. He leaned closer to her and whispered. “Is there any way we can reconcile? How can we make this better for both of us?”

She turned her violet gaze up to him, as if she was searching his face. “Maybe for just this one night we could become two different people.”

“Anything for you, my goddess.”

“I've been meaning to speak to you about calling me
your
goddess like that. It's very presumptuous, you know.” Her expression had cleared, and her full lips tilted up. Griffin felt himself being drawn down to the inviting softness of her mouth.

“Well, since I'm your husband, newly reconciled at that, I think I'm entitled to a little presumption.” He bent, and before she could say anything more, kissed her.

She stiffened for only a moment. Griffin kept the kiss soft, allowing her plenty of time to break it and step away from him. But she didn't. Instead she relaxed and melted into his mouth. What started as a sweet, teasing question of a kiss deepened, and when he felt her arms glide up and around his shoulders Griffin became utterly lost in her. She opened her mouth to him, allowing him to drink her in. She tasted of spice and woman and sex. His response to her was primal and fierce. The thought passed through his lust-fogged brain that she made him feel so ablaze that he could actually be the God of Fire. Then he couldn't think at all. The only thing he could do was touch, taste and desire her.

He pulled her deeper into the shadow of the tree so that its trunk obscured most of their bodies from the view of people outside the restaurant, and he positioned himself so that his body was between her and the street. Then, in their small pocket of privacy, he devoured her. She leaned into him, molding her thighs against his. She moaned into his mouth and he cupped her sweet, soft ass in his hands, lifting her so that he could rub his erection against her.

“Is it good? Do you like it?”

“Yes,” she whispered against his lips.

He reached up and pulled her silken shoulder strap down, baring her breast. Her pink nipple was puckered and ready for his mouth. He bent to lave the bud, circling it with his tongue before he sucked it into his mouth, hard and fast. Her gasp made him lift his head. She was panting, her lips parted and wet.

“You taste so damn sweet,” he managed to say.

Spreading her legs, she moved her hips so that he had access to more of her.

He pulsed against her. “Let me feel you.”

She moaned and whispered, “Yes.”

Blood rushed through his body, filling him so that he felt engorged, unbearably hard and tight. He reached between them and easily found a slit in her silky dress.

“Ah, god! You have nothing on under there.” His voice sounded strange to him, deep and almost sobbing with lust as his fingers glided over her wet heat.

She didn't speak. Instead she lifted one leg, wrapping it high on his hip. Then she moved her own hips, lifting so that the tip of his penis joined his fingers and both were sliding against her slickness without actually penetrating her.

“If you don't want this, you have to tell me to stop now.” He gasped the words, knowing that soon he would be unable to think rationally. “And please don't tell me to stop.”

“Don't stop,” she whispered.

With a growl, he took her ass in both of his hands and backed her against the tree. She braced herself with her hands on his shoulders, and then he moved forward, sliding into her tight heat with unbearable slowness as both her legs came up around him and he held her firmly.

“Christ, you feel incredible!”

Through the roaring of his pounding blood he heard her gasp and he covered her mouth again, drinking in her moans and muffling her cries and his own as he tunneled deeper. When he felt her spasm rhythmically around him, he tilted her pelvis even more so that he could sink himself fully inside her, his own orgasm building and building….

“Hey Captain, that you over there?”

Griffin had no fucking idea how his lieutenant's voice managed to penetrate the raw passion that was filling his brain, but later he thought how grateful he was that it had. No damn way he would ever have forgiven himself if anyone had seen what was going on between them.

“Captain! Hey!”

Griffin lifted his head from her and looked around the tree to see Robert waving and coming toward him.

“What is it?” Griffin roared. Slipping out of her, he angled his body so that she was even more covered as she hastily straightened her costume and tried to regain her footing.

Robert froze where he was, clearly surprised by his friend's angry tone.

“Uh, the chief is asking for you. He wants you to explain to the mayor that plan you have for training the community on the use of the mini-defibrillators. Seems the mayor might have some funding you could use.”

Griffin fought to make his brain work while he got his breathing under control.

“Go.”

He glanced down at her. She was still straightening her costume and she wasn't looking at him.

“Just go,” she repeated.

She tried to move out of the cage of his arms, but he only tightened them around her and threw Robert a quick, “Tell the chief I'll be right there.”

Robert nodded, gave Griffin one more curious look, and then disappeared back into the restaurant.

“It's okay. He's gone now,” Griffin told her.

“You should go, too.”

Griffin felt an awful wave of frustration, mixed with a terrible sinking. It couldn't end like this. It wouldn't end like this. He reached out and pulled the silk ribbon that still held her mask into place, and it fluttered away like a freed bird, leaving her face naked to him. She was so incredibly beautiful the words he'd been planning to say wouldn't come to him. The silence between them grew, and in a gesture that was both proud and vulnerable, she lifted her chin and met his eyes.

“I said, you should go, too.”

“Don't do that,” he whispered roughly, finally finding his voice again.

She looked away from him, clearly trying to hide the hurt in her eyes. He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her gaze back to his.

“You don't know me, so you're going to have to take my word for this till I can prove it to you. I'm not the kind of man who uses a woman and then walks away. This”—he gestured at the tree—“has never happened to me before. I should apologize to you, but I'd be lying if I said I was sorry it happened, and I won't lie to you.” He paused, rubbing his thumbs up and down the smoothness of her cheeks. “What I will apologize for is leaving.”

She stared at him for a long time with those expressive violet eyes. Finally she said, so softly that he had to strain to hear her, “This has never happened to me before, either. I'm usually the one in control.”

“Let me take care of this business with the mayor. I'll try to make it short and be right back. Say you'll wait for me at our table.”