Hades' Return (17 page)

Damn the woman. Why did she always leave him feeling inadequate? He hated that particular emotion more than any other.

She disappeared, leaving him feeling bereft. He growled, hating any sign of weakness.

Hades glanced toward the darkened mirror. He would have his revenge, and then he would grow strong again. He didn’t need the warriors or the power of the Lady of the Beasts to gain control of the Earth. There was more than one way to accomplish his goal of world domination.

But first, he had to deal with the last warrior. If he could take some minor revenge against Stavros, he’d finally be able to put this episode behind him and forget the warriors and their goddess ever existed.

It couldn’t happen fast enough to suit him, which is why he needed help. There were plenty of greedy, devious humans who were only too willing to do his bidding in exchange for a favor.

He put Persephone out of his mind, which was much harder to do than it should have been. He was done with her. He didn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone.

Hades yelled for one of his demons. The scaly creature immediately raced into the room and cowered before him. The male demon was smaller than most, but his mind was cunning. Although he would never admit it, Hades missed Mordecai, the sneaky serpent who’d infiltrated his domain in order to help his fellow warriors escape Hades’ wrath. The immortal warrior had been intelligent and brutal, a combination he admired. He also hadn’t had to have everything spelled out to him. Mordecai had always seemed to understand what Hades had wanted before he’d even wanted it.

Persephone had been like that too. But she’d concerned herself with seeing to his home and his happiness.

Hades began to pace, momentarily forgetting the demon standing before him. He didn’t need happiness. He needed power. But more than that, he needed revenge.

He stopped and faced his demon. “This is what I want you to do.”

Chapter Two

Stavros knew he really should leave the area, maybe go back to New Orleans for a while. Or he could easily transport himself to South America in the blink of an eye now that all his power had been restored. But he couldn’t make himself leave her. He didn’t even know the woman’s name, but it didn’t matter. There was something about her that drew him. Watching her work was a pleasure. She lost herself in her surroundings, heedless of her own safety, intent only on getting the picture she wanted.

Obviously, it wasn’t safe to leave her on her own. Someone had to look out for her.

He stepped out onto the porch of his temporary home, thankful once again that Sabrina, the woman mated to his fellow warrior Arand, was allowing him to stay at her granny’s home in the bayou. It was isolated and he could run free as both a man and a jaguar. Best of all, he was alone. As much as he’d enjoyed living in a city as vibrant as New Orleans, he craved the solitude of nature.

Naked, he stretched his arms over his head and enjoyed the pull and flex of muscles and bones. He’d lived all over the world, seen places that no human ever had, but he’d never had a home, never settled down. His fellow warriors had finally put down roots with their mates. Stavros feared he’d wander forever.

He shook off the melancholy thought and simply enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the warm breeze brushing against his bare skin. After thousands of years in captivity, Stavros found great pleasure in the simple things in life. And being able to stand outside on a beautiful summer morning and soak in the sunshine was one of them.

A tree branch rustled, and he turned to face his unseen foe. There was someone out there. He cursed himself for becoming lax. Not that he needed to worry. He could disappear in the blink of an eye if he had to, but he hated the idea of anyone disturbing this precious moment.

He raised his head and sniffed the air. He cursed again, but for an entirely different reason. He recognized the clean scent of soap tinged with a hint of lemons combined with the sweet perfume of woman. One specific woman. It was her, his mystery woman.

“Who’s there? Show yourself,” he commanded. He reached for his jeans that were thrown over the railing and pulled them on. “I know you’re out there.” He carefully pulled up the zipper over his semi-aroused dick. “Don’t make me come out there.” Now that she was this close, he wanted to meet her.

Toni swallowed heavily and stared at the half-naked man, grateful that he’d put on a pair of jeans. Although the way the worn denim clung to his legs and butt left nothing up to her imagination.

She fanned her hand in front of her face. She was hot and sweaty and not just due to the early morning heat. No, it was the man standing on the back porch of the tidy little house that was making her skin tingle and her clothing feel too tight.

Toni had had no idea she had a neighbor this close by. This was the first time she’d walked in this direction. She’d planned on ignoring whoever lived there if possible, but then she’d seen him standing there, wearing nothing more than the morning sunshine, and she’d been frozen in place.

The man was a god. He was tall and broad shouldered, with a thick chest and lean hips. His body was sculpted with muscle, without a hint of body fat to soften his appearance. Hair as black as midnight hung in a silky curtain to his shoulders. His features were rugged and she’d automatically brought her camera up and clicked off a few pictures. She knew she’d never show the shots to another person. These were for her personal collection.

When he spoke, his voice was a deep rumble that made her nipples pucker and her pussy clench. What was wrong with her? She never had this kind of reaction to a man. Yes, he was handsome. Okay, so he was drop-dead gorgeous. But he was still just a man.

“Don’t make me come out there.” There was enough of a threat in those words to make her bristle. She thought about running but had no doubt he’d catch her. Not only were his legs longer than hers, there was something about him, something primal and fierce, that told her he would find her no matter where she hid.

Taking the bull by the horns, Toni stepped out of the woods and into the small yard. She had her cell phone in her pocket and her gun tucked into the outside pocket of her camera bag. She was safe enough.

He came down the two steps until he stood in the yard, his bare feet planted on the warm ground. Hands on his hips, he studied her. And she stared right back. Up close, he was even more devastating to her senses.

And his eyes. Dear Lord, his eyes were dark, fathomless depths. She could get lost in them. There was such sorrow residing there. She found herself wondering what he’d been through in his life.

Realizing she was staring, she straightened her shoulders and introduced herself. “I’m Antoinette Richards. Toni. I’m staying at the house about a half mile that way.” She pointed back the way she’d come.

The stranger took a step closer. “Toni.” The way he said her name made her shiver. She bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning aloud. What was wrong with her? She’d never had such a visceral reaction to a man before.

“I’m taking pictures.” She held up her camera and then wanted to groan. Of course she was taking pictures. Any idiot could see the camera hung around her neck and the bag slung over her shoulder.

“And you are?” she asked.

“Stavros.” He took another step forward, his feet not making any sound. There was an alertness about him that reminded her of a wild animal. And the way he moved—so fluid and with clear intent—was so much like a wild cat, a leopard or tiger.

Get a grip, Toni
. She took a deep breath, realizing she’d been holding hers for too long. She sucked in some air and dug her fingers into her camera strap to ground her.

“Nice to meet you.” She was proud of the fact her voice sounded steady when her insides were jittery and her knees were like jelly. Stavros wasn’t a local name, nor was his accent Cajun. She wondered where he was originally from.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He frowned, flattening his dark brows into a straight line. His jaw tightened and she could see the steady beat of his pulse in the vein in his neck.

Toni was struck with a sudden urge to run her tongue up that vein, to stroke her hands over his tanned skin and rub her breasts over his naked chest. And then his words sank in and she frowned.

“I didn’t mean to trespass.” A lot of folks who lived out here weren’t friendly to strangers. She understood and respected that. But he was the one who’d asked her to come forward. She would have just gone on her way if he’d left her alone. “I’ll be going.”

She swung around to leave. The man might look like a god, but he had the manners of a troll. Too bad.

“Wait.”

She paused and glanced over her shoulder. He was still standing in the same spot, raking his fingers through the thick mass of his hair. It looked so soft she wanted to touch it, which was really stupid. The guy obviously wanted her gone.

“What?” she asked.

He sighed. “It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.”

Toni studied him intently. Was he for real? When his frowned deepened, she realized he was dead serious. She found herself smiling, unable to stay irritated with him. “I’m perfectly fine. I’ve worked all over the world and never had any trouble.”

Not quite true. There’d been that little problem with a Bedouin tribe… But she’d gotten out of that situation just fine. She was home in the United States of America, not in some war-ravaged country. “I’m perfectly safe,” she promised him.

He cursed under his breath, and while she couldn’t quite hear what he said, there was no mistaking it for anything but cussing. He turned away and stalked up the stairs and into the house, leaving her standing there alone.

Toni couldn’t leave if she wanted to. Her eyes were glued to the incredibly lifelike tattoo that covered his entire back until he disappeared inside. It was a black jaguar. The creature snarled at her as Stavros walked away. Wow. Whoever had inked that was a hell of an artist. And it must have taken a long time to get a tattoo that detailed done.

And every hour of his pain was worth it. The jaguar was a work of art. So lifelike she wanted to reach out and stroke it. In fact, she’d raised her hand to do just that.

Toni quickly pulled her hand back to her side and turned away. Time to go. She’d spend a few hours shooting pictures. That would calm her racing heart. Or at least she hoped it would.

A part of her wanted to stay and see if Stavros came back out, and for that very reason, she made herself leave. As the bayou swallowed her up again, she muttered under her breath. “The last thing you need in your life is a man, especially a mysterious, dangerous one.” There was no denying that he was dangerous. An air of menace, like he was ready to pounce any second, surrounded him.

No, Toni was better off on her own in the woods. It was safer with the gators than with Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous.

Stavros swore at himself as he grabbed a T-shirt and dragged it over his head and stuffed his feet into a pair of sneakers. He really should leave her alone. After all, she was only here for a short time and would soon be gone.

Toni
. He had a name for her now, and that only made his attraction to her even more pronounced. The big cat inside him had stretched and purred the moment she’d come into view. She was better close up than she’d been from a distance.

There was such innate intelligence and pride in her gaze. Was there anything sexier than a self-assured woman? Not to him. She was small in stature but seemed larger because of her self-confidence. Her hair was pulled back in her customary braid, and he wanted to unwind it and see it spilling around her shoulders and down her back.

And her curves. Dear goddess, her curves. His hands ached to shape the fullness of her breasts, the slope of her hips and the roundness of her ass. Toni was all woman.

He ignored his erection, which was throbbing incessantly behind the zipper of his jeans and prowled back toward the door. As he’d suspected, she was gone.

He should just let her go. Just close the door and forget about her.

Stavros was down the steps and across the yard in a heartbeat. He cocked his head to one side and listened. Although she was quiet, he could easily hear her creeping through the trees. He took a deep breath and followed her.

There was no reason to think Hades was watching him. After all, it had been weeks since the god had attacked Jessica and Tilly. Perhaps Hades was truly done with him and his fellow warriors.

Stavros glanced over his shoulder and sniffed the air. Nothing but trees around him and marshy ground beneath his sneakers. As always, the world was alive with the music of the bayou. Grasshoppers chirped, insects buzzed and birds sang. There was nothing here that shouldn’t be here, other than Toni and himself.

Quickening his pace, he hurried after her. He realized he was smiling and a sense of anticipation hummed inside him. Stavros was hunting for the first time in years. Not to kill, but to protect.

He no longer questioned the instinct. It was simply a part of him. Just like breathing.

Toni needed his protection. It was his job to make certain nothing bad happened to her while she was here. He wanted her in his sights and picked up his pace.

He stopped when he caught a glimpse of her crouched down on the spongy moss near the edge of the swamp. She held her camera to her face and he heard the muted clicking noise as she took several pictures in quick succession. He narrowed his eyes and saw the large gator sliding through the water only a few feet away from her.

Damn the woman. Did she have any idea how dangerous that was? How fast the gator could move?

Stavros rushed forward, grabbed her around the waist and dragged her away from the water’s edge. “What in the name of the goddess are you doing?” He didn’t mean to roar at her, but wasn’t able to stop himself. All his primal instincts were on overdrive when it came to Toni Richards.

Toni whirled on her attacker and struck out, her right fist flying. She cursed when she realized who it was and tried to pull her punch. Not that she needed to. Stavros caught her hand easily. Instead of knocking it away, he grabbed it and pulled her closer. She landed against his solid chest with a thud.

Thankfully, her camera was secured around her neck with a thick strap, and she hadn’t dropped it during the altercation. The expensive piece of equipment hung down her back, undamaged.

“What in the hell are you doing?” All her emotions were bubbling close to the surface—fear, anger and arousal.

“Saving you from yourself,” he shot back.

She tried to pull away from him, but Stavros only tightened his hold on her and slid one muscled arm around her back, pinning her against him. She glared at him, but he seemed unmoved by her anger.

“I didn’t need saving.” She thumped her fist against his chest to make her point. She didn’t worry about actually hurting him. The man had muscles on his muscles.

“That’s a matter of opinion.” A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead and his eyes seemed to grow even darker the longer he stared down at her. He swore in a language she’d never heard before and then lowered his head and kissed her.

Toni lost all sense of place and time when his lips touched hers. They were firm and soft and teased a path across her mouth. She moaned and he slipped his tongue inside. Her entire body clenched and her insides turned molten.

She’d been kissed many times in her life, but never had she experienced anything this hot and mind-numbing. Stavros explored her mouth, taking his time as he mapped the moist, dark landscape. Then he coaxed her tongue into his mouth and sucked on it.

She went up on her toes, trying to get closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close as she kissed him back. Heat enveloped her. Her breasts ached and her pussy throbbed. It took every ounce of restraint she still possessed not to rub herself against him.

And there was no doubt in her mind that he wanted her as much as she did him. His cock was hard and thick and pressed firmly against her stomach. She slid one hand beneath the hem of his shirt and found smooth, hot skin. Toni inhaled deeply, drinking in his male scent, a combination of the earthy tones of the woods and hot male.