Goddess of Love (22 page)

G
riffin's sisters were enchanting female whirlwinds. They reminded
Venus of forest nymphs. They also reminded Venus of why she could only spend a limited amount of time with forest nymphs. The little creatures were exhausting.

“Yep! We've been tellin' Griff for
years
that he shouldn't be so hush-hush about his art. It's cool, really. And it doesn't make him less macho. It's not like he's an interior designer or somethin' like that. He's a
fireman
. You don't get much more macho than that,” said Alicia, rolling her eyes in the direction her brother had disappeared with the gallery owner. Alicia was the youngest of the group, and Venus thought she was cute in a spaniel-like way, even though she was clearly the most scatterbrained of the sisters.

“You wouldn't believe how hard it was to get this show together,” said Sherry, the oldest and also the prettiest. She looked a lot like her brother with her thick, dark hair and her amazing blue eyes.

“Yeah, Sherry took the slides of Griff's work on the sly, and then snuck with them to the gallery owner, pretending to be his publicist,” said Kathy. Venus loved her short, spiky haircut and thought it made her neck look incredibly swanlike. She also liked the sparkle in her blue eyes, which definitely reminded her of Griffin. And Kathy's job fascinated Venus, too. She was a radio personality on something called a soft rock station. Venus would love to question her about what that meant, especially because that would mean she could listen to her talk more—Kathy's voice was a smoky mixture of woman and sex appeal, and it was truly a sensual experience just to hear her speak.

“I wasn't pretending,” Sherry said, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder. She grinned at Venus. “I am a publicist. I just usually promote bands and not artists.”

“And Griffin's not paying you,” Stephanie said. She, too, had Griffin's dark hair, but her eyes were more green than blue. She'd explained that she was working on an advanced degree at the University of Tulsa. Venus wasn't sure what a jurisprudence was, but it sounded important, and she liked Stephanie's intensity.

Sherry laughed. “No, he's not paying me. But he is going to change the oil in my car for the next fifty thousand miles.”

“Hey! He's going to change the oil in
my
car,” Alicia whined.

“You girls fighting over me again?” Griffin grinned at his sisters, then handed Venus a fresh glass of champagne. “Here ya go, my goddess. Thought you might need a drink after spending time with this group.”

“
Your
goddess? That sounds awfully presumptuous of you,” Sherry said.

“Yeah, don't you need a goddess's permission before making her your own personal deity?” Kathy practically purred.

Venus smiled and caught Griffin's eye teasingly. “Your brother is the kind of man who lays claim to what he wants. I suppose it's a good thing Venus is Goddess of Love and not war. Love has a more docile temper.”

“Docile? You?” Griffin's lips tilted up.

“She didn't say she was docile, doofus. She said she was
more
docile than the freaking Goddess of War, which still means you should watch yourself,” Alicia said.

“Exactly,” Venus said.

“I've already decided that she's more naughty than nice.”

“Is he insulting me?” Venus asked Sherry.

“I don't think so. In his own way I think our Griff means it as a compliment.”

“Hey. I'm right here.”

In perfect unison all four sisters rolled their eyes at him.

“You're driving her away from me and dooming me to a passionless, lonely existence where I'll be known as the crazy old fireman/artist who spends all his time changing the oil in his sisters' cars and never has a moment to himself.”

“And the problem with that would be what?” Sherry said sweetly.

“Hey, would you get all hunched over and put on a French accent like Kevin Kline in
French Kiss
, and mutter stuff like,
Those girls make my ass hurt
, while you suck on a disgusting cigarette and drink little glasses of red wine?” asked Kathy.

“Kat, you've got to give up that Netflix subscription. You're spending way too much time watching and rewatching movies,” Sherry said.

“I like movies.” Kathy pouted.

“Are you feeling the need to run screaming from this place?” Griffin asked Venus.

She laughed. “I like getting to know your sisters.” It was clear from the way his sisters doted on Griffin that they adored him as much as he obviously adored them. What a multilayered man he was: fireman and warrior, artist and loving brother. The sisters continued to argue about the oil-changing schedule and Griffin. Venus sipped her champagne and glanced up over the lip of her glass, catching his gaze. While he watched her she took the strawberry that garnished the rim of the glass and licked the tip of it. She saw Griffin's breath catch. Yes, he certainly was multidimensional, which included the healthy dose of passion she knew all too well was simmering just beneath his surface. A passion she would love to sample again and again and…

“Yoo-hoo! Love birds! Jeesh, get a room.” Alicia giggled.

Griffin laughed good-naturedly. Then he held out his hand to Venus. “Well, my goddess, are you hungry? I could take you home and feed you.”

Venus smiled at his use of her nickname and realized, now that she didn't feel so nervous about their date, she was actually hungry, and she'd definitely like him to take her home. “Yes, I am.” She took his hand, liking the way he wrapped it through his arm, as if he were a gentleman warrior, escorting his lady love who belonged to him and only him. And she thought again how much she enjoyed being treated like a woman and not like a deity. Then she remembered exactly why they were there and added, “But you can't leave your own art show.”

“Why not? My publicist is here. She's better than I am at this kind of stuff anyway,” he said, grinning at his sister. “See you girls later,” he called over his shoulder as he pulled Venus with him toward the warehouse door.

“Good-bye girls,” Venus called over her shoulder.

The sisters waved at her while they blew kisses at their big brother.

Outside the sidewalk was busy with people going to and from the art show and the other little shops that had purposefully stayed open late to capitalize on the gallery opening. It was a beautiful, clear night, but the wind had whipped up, making it a little cool, and Venus snuggled closer to Griffin.

“Here, take this.” He slipped off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. “And let me walk on the street side of the sidewalk. You never know when some idiot will drink and drive and jump the damn curb.” Then he threaded her arm back through his, and tucked her on his left side, keeping her close to him. She was enveloped by his warmth and she felt protected and cared for—two feelings that were foreign to the Goddess of Love. She usually made certain such things were brought to others' lives. Had anyone, god or mortal, ever worried about anything as simple as whether she was too hot or cold or whether she was protected? She knew the answer too well. She'd been worshipped for eons. People made pilgrimages to ask boons of her and to be granted the blessing of love in their lives. But people didn't care for and protect her. She was a great goddess—they wouldn't believe she needed or desired their care.

Well, they were wrong.

“Thanks for being patient with my sisters. I know the four of them together can be a little overwhelming.” His words broke into her internal reverie.

She smiled at him. “They're going to be mad at you for leaving early.”

“Nah, I'll just be changing a lot of oil. And here's the secret.” He bent down and whispered into her ear. “I don't really mind doing it. The girls are always grateful, and I like knowing that they're taken care of. I still change my mom's oil every three thousand miles.”

Venus wasn't exactly sure why oil needed to be changed so much, or from what into what it needed to be changed, but she liked the fact that Griffin did it for the women in his life almost as much as she loved the way his breath tickled her ear and sent sensuous shivers down her neck.

“Too bad you didn't get to meet my mom tonight. She's on a cruise with two of her girlfriends. She'll be pissed when she gets back and finds out she missed the art opening.”

“What about your father?”

Griffin's open, warm expression faltered. “He left us when I was a teenager. Found a younger wife and made a new family.”

“I'm sorry,” Venus said. So he'd been father as well as brother to his sisters and the man his mother depended upon. Little wonder he understood women so well.

Griffin shrugged. “Don't be sorry. It happened a long time ago.”

“It was his loss,” Venus said.

“That's what I used to tell the girls when they'd get down about it.”

They'd stopped at the passenger's side of Griffin's huge truck. On impulse, Venus said, “You're a good brother, Griffin DeAngelo. May you be richly blessed for your kindness to your family.” Then she kissed him softly on the cheek, purposefully sending just a hint of her magic through him with her blessing—not enough for him to notice, but enough to bring him unusually good luck for the next several days.

When she pulled back she thought he would smile, open the door for her, and help her into the truck's maw. Instead he surprised her by taking her in his arms and lowering his mouth onto hers. Over his shoulder she saw the fullness of the winter moon and it seemed to be shining a beam of silver light down on them.
An omen
, she thought as her eyes closed and she opened her mouth to Griffin's possession.
A lover's moon shining for us alone is an excellent omen. It's saying I should allow myself a lover who isn't a suppliant or an immortal. It's saying I should allow myself to love.
And then she wasn't able to think about anything except Griffin's mouth and the perfect way they fit together as she slid her arms up around his neck and molded herself to him.

“Come home with me,” Griffin murmured roughly against her lips.

“Yes,” she whispered.

 

Griffin's two-story stucco house was just down the street from Pea's snug little home. He unlocked the door and ushered her into a dimly lit, spacious room. Instantly a huge long-haired calico cat began winding around his legs, purring a welcome. Griffin scratched the top of her head.

“Venus, meet Cali Alley Cat. She's not really an alley cat, or at least she's not since she adopted me, but the name stuck to her. I'll get her saucer of milk. If I don't she'll never leave me alone. Make yourself at home.” He hurried toward a room at the rear of the house, and then called over his shoulder. “Oh, the real lights are there by the door. Sorry, I should have flipped them on for you.”

He disappeared into what Venus assumed must be the kitchen, and she reached behind her and flipped up the light switch. She turned back to study Griffin's home, and felt herself freeze with shock as she stared with disbelief at the huge iron sculpture that predominated the room. Though he had borrowed the subject from another artist, she knew the work was Griffin's. It had the same graceful, sensuous lines as did all of his sculptures. It was exquisite, and it made her feel breathless and humbled and more surprised than she had been in centuries.

“This piece is my favorite. I didn't exhibit it tonight because it'll never be for sale,” he said softly, handing Venus a glass of white wine.

“It's Botticelli's
The Birth of Venus
.” She was amazed her voice sounded so normal. “Only it's not.”

“His painting inspired it, but Botticelli's
Venus
never felt right to me. So I fixed her.” His laugh was a little nervous. “Or at least I tried.”

“You fixed her,” Venus said, still staring at the sculpture. The seashell had been hammered from what appeared to be a single huge sheet of copper, and Griffin had aged and tarnished it, so that it had a green mossy tint that reminded her of the sea. The Venus that was rising from the ocean was created by more of the copper, only this metal had been polished until it glittered like faceted gems. His lines were sweeping and erotic. He'd fashioned her hair from tiny pieces of metal that lay over one another, giving the effect of a mermaid's tail as it wrapped around the generous curves of her body. She was no longer nymphlike. Instead she had the alluring sensuality of a more adult woman who was ripe and experienced and intriguing.

Venus moved closer to the sculpture. “It's hard to believe you did this all of metal. It looks too warm—too realistic.”

“Kind of a switch on what women are, don't you think? They look soft, but are really stronger than men usually give them credit for being.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him and caught his cocky smile. But she found it sexy and endearing rather than overly arrogant. The man certainly did know women. Smiling, she asked, “Why Venus?”