Her Kind of Trouble (26 page)

"I was glad to do it."

I backed away. "I'm just going to…quick bath… "

"Don't hurry. You deserve the break. As long as we find something this evening, I'm good. I don't even know if I'll use it, I just…1 believe in being prepared."

For what
? I didn't ask, because I knew he couldn't answer. My best guess was some kind of ritual to decide who would lead the Comitatus. But whatever it was, for Lex Stuart to ask me for help—no, for the goddess's help—it had to be big.

Not my business
, I reminded myself. The Comitatus was
his
business, one which his vows neatly shut me out of. The Isis Grail was my business.

But his request did kind of mix the two.

The marble bath really was incredible—its water warm and deep and pulsing with tiny jets. Deciding that I
could
use the break, whether I deserved it or not, I'd lit a few sandalwood-scented candles and turned down the lights. I'd turned on the upper-end, built-in stereo to play soft music full of drums and sitars. I'd added rosewater to the bath—true rosewater, the kind distilled from steam when rose petals are pressed for oil. The scent drifted intoxicatingly up and around me in the candle glow with the water's mist, almost in time to the music, like little hints of spirit.

Like magic.

Ironic that I'd been swimming all week, but—because of the dry suits and the cramped shower at the Hotel Athens—this was my first full-body immersion into water since leaving the States. I felt like a mermaid—or the fairy goddess, Melusine—who'd been deprived of water too long. As if I were soaking something necessary back into my body, back into my soul.

Like I've said, sensory elements like candles or incense—or drumming—are used in rituals because they encourage relaxation, an almost altered state of mind. Stretched out in the softly purring Jacuzzi, I let random notions roll gently through my mind and vanish indiscriminately into the mist around me.

Lex's request did mix our two goals.

And there really were a lot of married goddesses. In almost every legend, the husband, god or mortal, could not have risen to such power without the abilities of his goddess wife. Of Melusine. Of
Isis
. My sleepy gaze caught on the sight of my floating left hand—with the wedding ring on it.
It's fake
, I reminded myself—but of course, as I'd found out, the
ring
wasn't fake. Just what it symbolized.

And not through any hesitation on Lex's part.

For just what weakness was I overcompensating, that I hadn't wanted his assistance? He was willing to shelve his pride enough to ask
me
for help. Just as important, I wanted to do it. Whatever was going down with the Comitatus, Lex
had
to be a better leader than Phil. I wanted Lex to have all the advantages he could get, so yes, I would help him with whatever kind of toned-down ritual we found.

Except…

Maybe the scent of roses was fogging my brain—or just lowering my inhibitions. Maybe I was being influenced by the sense of divine connection I'd felt when I drank from the Melusine Grail or, more recently, when I invoked
Isis
in her underwater temple. But for something this important, was
toned down
really the way to go?

It suddenly seemed so clear, so easy.

Lex and I had found each other as children, unaware that he was the heir to the Comitatus and I would become a freaking champion of the Grailkeepers. We were already lovers—had been before, probably would be again.

If this wasn't fated, what was?

And really—if I was just looking for an excuse to sleep with him, then hadn't I already made my decision?

"Lex," I called, sure that he would hear me. He always heard me.

In a moment, he cracked the door. "Is everything—?"

"Here's what we're doing," I said, stretching luxuriously with a light splash, enjoying the sensation of water and warmth on my naked body. "Turn off your computer—"

"I'm doing an Internet search," he interrupted, which is how I knew he actually wasn't looking.

"We don't need one. Turn off your computer and mobile phone, unplug the phone in the room, and hang out the Do Not Disturb sign. Light any candles you can find, and turn down the lights. Can anyone see in the window from the balcony?"

"No. The Botanical Gardens are out there. But, Mag—"

"Then leave the drapes open so we can see the pyramids. Turn on some quiet music, preferably with drums. Move the furniture back to give us room."

As I'd spoken, the door had gradually eased farther open. Lex was fully visible now, his sleeves still rolled up, his tie off, his shirt collar unbuttoned. He was definitely looking.

His lips parted slightly as he stared at me, naked in the bath. His gaze was like a caress, and my body tightened in nothing short of anticipation.

It wasn't just the soft towels or the expensive room or the delicious meal that attracted me, after all. Nor was it just his need of assistance. I'd been careful for too long.

I wanted
him
. He had to be able to see that.

I sure saw it on him that he wanted me.

"No promises," I warned him, my voice undeniably husky. "But take off your clothes, just in case."

He continued to stare.

"Are we doing this?" I prompted.

He nodded—and backed out to prepare.

If I was going to jump into a void—the unknown world of rituals, of championship, of magic—then so be it.

But I didn't have to always do it alone.

Tonight, I was jumping with him.

Chapter 16

I wiped a film of steam off the candlelit mirror and stared at my reflection. I'd put on one of the deliciously soft hotel robes, but my hair hung wet and natural down my back. I still wore my jewelry, the chalice-well pendant of the Grailkeepers, the horned-disk pendant of
Isis
which I'd bought at the Khan el-Khalili bazaar and the wedding ring.

An antique Stuart wedding ring.

My reflection and I spread our arms in the candlelit shadows of the luxurious bath suite. The robe fell open, revealing a few inches of my nakedness—the soft valley between my still-hidden breasts, the gentle swell of my belly, the shadowy juncture of my thighs.

"
Isis
," I whispered fervently—nobody had to hear me but Her. "Oldest of the Old, Goddess of Ten Thousand Names, Lady of Compassion and Healing and Magic.

"
Isis
, though I have yet to prove myself worthy, know that I seek to continue Your work. Help me, a daughter of goddesses, to know how to best serve this world which we both love. Guide me in granting Your strength, Your blessing, to this leader of men and, through him, perhaps the world.

"Be with me."

And yes, on some levels it did seem a little silly. But what did I have to be embarrassed about? It's not like I hadn't gotten personal proof that there really were goddesses—or different faces of the same goddess—I hadn't completely figured that one out. In any case, I had to make the effort.

Sometimes the effort is everything.

I picked up my makeup case and, deliberately not thinking, went on instinct. I found the eyeliner pencil which I usually apply lightly, but this time I held its tip over a candle, tested it against my finger, and drew a thick, dark tracing—Egyptian-like, Cleopatra-like—around each eye, extended at the outer corners. I lifted the
Isis
pendant off over my head, then shortened its cord and slid it on like a headband with the medallion on my forehead, where psychics and magic users would say my third eye was. The face staring back at me, exotic and powerful, was not the face I usually wore…

Yet it was still mine.

Cool.

On pure impulse, I shrugged out of the robe completely, letting it pool around my bare feet. Then I lifted the crystal glass in which I'd mixed scented bath oil with pure body oil, which I'd had warming in hot water, and went out to meet Lex.

He'd done as I asked. The suite was full of low-thrum-ming music, flickering light, scented wax. Standing nude, cut like a stone statue of Achilles or Adonis or a completely different, more famous Alexander, stood Lex.

With the twilit pyramids visible through the doors behind him.

"Holy… " he murmured, unable to finish.

It was a brave thing for him to do, to just wait for me like this. I was aware of that and admired him all the more for it. Pink lines still traced his ribs and forearms from that previous knife attack, but the battle scars only added to his masculinity. Soft, gingery hair dusted his chest before tracing down his hard, flat abdomen to his own sexuality, already half-erect over solid, hair-sprinkled thighs. Who knew vulnerability could be this sexy?

I put down the glass of oil, and he reached for my breasts. I caught his hands with a smile and kissed his fingers. "Not yet," I whispered. "Not yet."

He groaned but his hands tightened obediently over mine, as if to keep himself from reaching for anything else.

"So are you really willing to do this?" I demanded, with more quiet authority than I'd expected of myself.

Lex swallowed, hard—and nodded. "Are you?"

I took a deep breath, praying that whatever part of me was connected to the force of goddessness, I could draw on that connection to make this work. I squeezed his hands—and let go. "Kneel to the goddess through me."

His chin came up sharply—good. This had to be a sacrifice for him, in order to count; he wasn't some wimp, willing to kneel to just anybody. But, though reluctant, he did it. He sank to his knees on the richly woven rug that cushioned the polished floor.

His head arched back, so that he could hold my gaze in silent challenge. He'd never looked so regal.

"Alexander Rothschild Stuart III," I murmured, the name sounding strange even from my own throat. "You wish to rule powerful men. You wish the blessings of the goddess in this endeavor. Why should you be chosen as such a leader?"

For a moment he frowned up at me—damned vow of secrecy. Then he made an attempt to answer around it. "Because I was born for such leadership," he said. That wasn't telling me anything I didn't know. Hell, if he meant it metaphorically, it was telling me
less
than I knew.