A Taste of Greek E-Book

Tina Folsom

• Herausgeber: Tina Folsom
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Out of Olympus
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 353

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

Messenger god Hermes' sandals have been stolen by a mortal, thus robbing all gods of their gift of teleportation. Zeus is furious, but Hermes has more to worry about than his father's anger. Retrieving the sandals becomes a race against time as others are after the precious artifacts, too. Hermes knows the identity of the thief: the lovely Greek studies professor, Penelope. Now, not only does he have to get to his sandals first, but he has to do so before Penelope steals something else: his heart. "A Touch of Greek is a fun, blazing hot read that will have you asking, "Where's MY Greek God?" Tina Folsom's super sexy romances will be your favorite guilty pleasure!" --- Stephanie Bond, Author of the #1 Kindle bestselling romantic comedy Stop the Wedding! Out of Olympus Series: Book 1: A Touch of Greek Book 2: A Scent of Greek Book 3: A Taste of Greek Book 4: A Hush of Greek Scanguards Vampires Book 1: Samson's Lovely Mortal Book 2: Amaury's Hellion Book 3: Gabriel's Mate Book 4: Yvette's Haven Book 5: Zane's Redemption Book 6: Quinn's Undying Rose Book 7: Oliver's Hunger Book 8: Thomas's Choice Book 8 1/2: Silent Bite (A Scanguards Wedding Novella) Book 9: Cain's Identity Book 10: Luther's Return Novella: Mortal Wish Book 11: Blake's Pursuit Novella 11 1/2: Fateful Reunion Book 12: John's Yearning Book 13: Ryder's Storm (Scanguards Hybrids #1) Book 14: Damian's Conquest (Scanguards Hybrids #2) Book 15: Grayson's Challenge (Scanguards Hybrids #3) (Winter 2022/23) Stealth Guardians Series: Lover Uncloaked (#1) Master Unchained (#2) Warrior Unraveled (#3) Guardian Undone (#4) Immortal Unveiled (#5) Protector Unmatched (#6) Demon Unleashed (#7) Venice Vampyr Novella Series: Venice Vampyr (#1) Venice Vampyr (#2): Final Affair Venice Vampyr (#3): Sinful Treasure Venice Vampyr (#4): Sensual Danger Venice Vampyr (#5): Wicked Seduction (by Michele Hauf) The Hamptons Bachelor Club: Teasing Enticing Beguiling Scorching Alluring Sizzling

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Title Page

Book Description

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Epilogue

Other Books by Tina

About the Author

Copyright

A TASTE OF GREEK

(OUT OF OLYMPUS #3)

BY

TINA FOLSOM

* * * * *

Copyright © 2013 by Tina Folsom

* * * * *

Book Description

Messenger god Hermes’ sandals have been stolen by a mortal, thus robbing all gods of their gift of teleportation. Zeus is furious, but Hermes has more to worry about than his father’s anger. Retrieving the sandals becomes a race against time as others are after the precious artifacts, too.

Hermes knows the identity of the thief: the lovely Greek studies professor, Penelope. Now, not only does he have to get to his sandals first, he has to do so before Penelope steals something else: his heart.

1

Gone!

Once more, Hermes searched the guest room in Triton and Sophia’s bed and breakfast that he’d spent the previous night in, but the result remained the same. His winged sandals had disappeared.

He’d come to visit his best friend Triton, the god of seafarers and sailors who lived in Charleston with his mortal wife Sophia. Ever since not only Triton but also his fellow god Dionysus, the god of wine and ecstasy, had taken up residence in this charming southern town, he and his friend Eros visited quite often.

Hermes walked out onto the balcony and looked down at the fountain, then perused the balcony. Nothing.

The French doors of the room next to his opened, and Eros stepped out onto the balcony, stretching. “Hey, morning! Isn’t it a great day?”

The love god’s grin was just a little too cheerful, and there were only two reasons why Eros would grin like this: either he’d gotten laid the night before, or he’d pulled a prank on somebody.

Hermes jumped over the low divider that separated the balconies from each other and peeked into Eros’s room. The bed was empty, and there was no sign of a woman.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

He turned back to his fellow god. “Give ‘em back. Now!”

Eros tossed him a confused look. “Huh? Give what back?”

Hermes slammed him against the wall. “Give me back my sandals, you idiot! I’m not in the mood for your stupid jokes this morning.”

“I didn’t take your frilly sandals! So get off me! What would I do with them? Do you see me flying around?” Eros pushed him off and pulled his T-shirt straight. “I would have gone to sleep at my palace on Olympus had I known I’d be accosted this morning.”

Hermes tilted his head. “You really don’t have them?”

“No! Go look someplace else. Why am I always the first to be accused? Last time I checked, the house belonged to Triton. Doesn’t that mean he’s got keys to every room?”

Hermes took a step back. Eros was right. Triton had had every opportunity to sneak into his room and take the sandals.

“That jerk!” he growled and rushed through Eros’s room, yanking open the door to the hallway, when he felt Eros behind him. “Why are you following me?”

Eros grinned unashamedly. “You didn’t think I was gonna miss a fight, did you?”

Hermes rolled his eyes, then continued on his quest and hurried upstairs, taking two steps at a time. He didn’t bother knocking on the door of Triton and Sophia’s private studio, and simply pushed it open.

“Triton,” he bellowed, walking inside.

Triton appeared from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping down his shoulders. “What in Hades is going on? Can’t you knock?”

“My sandals. I want them back. Now!”

“I don’t have your bloody sandals. Why would I have your sandals?”

“Very funny,” Hermes shot back. “But the game is over.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve lost your sandals.” The seriousness in Triton’s voice, coupled with his incredulous look turned Hermes’ annoyance into worry. Triton wasn’t that good of an actor. If he didn’t have his sandals, then who did?

“They’re gone!” Hermes ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Fuck!” He looked at both his friends again, when he noticed Sophia enter the studio.

“What’s the ruckus about? Are you guys forgetting that we have guests here? And it’s Sunday, everybody’s still sleeping!” Sophia chastised them.

“Sorry, baby, but it looks like Hermes misplaced his sandals,” Triton said calmly. Then he looked back at him. “Have you tried to teleport?”

Hermes shook his head. Then he tried just that, concentrating on the place he wanted to go: Dio’s apartment in the city. If neither Eros nor Triton had his sandals, then Dio had to have played this prank on him. He hoped he was right.

His body didn’t move. He tried again. “I can’t teleport.”

“Fuck! This can’t be happening!” Eros yelled and knocked his fist against Hermes’ forehead. “You idiot, I’ve got a hot date in Greece tonight!”

Sophia shot Eros an inquisitive look. “What’s that got to do with Hermes’ sandals?”

“Everything!” Eros cried out.

Triton looked at his wife, his face etched with concern. “If Hermes can’t teleport, that means that every god, including Zeus, will have lost his power to teleport. Because the power to teleport lies in Hermes’ sandals, and that power is only active when the sandals are in the possession of a god.”

Hermes swallowed, his stomach turning at the implication. “That means a mortal has them.”

And there was only one mortal who could have taken them. No, not just taken—stolen! His precious sandals.

Zeus would have his hide once he found out.

2

One week earlier

“But this can’t be happening,” Penny Galloway pleaded.

Her boss, Michelle Schafer, the dean of the history department, leaned over the desk and sighed. “I’m sorry, but the budget cuts are more severe than we’d all expected. I have to cut positions and I’m afraid that means that all non-tenured faculty whose contracts are up at the end of the fiscal year will have to look for opportunities elsewhere.”

Opportunities, what opportunities? As if it were that easy. How many positions were there for an assistant professor whose field was Ancient Greek history and mythology? A needle in a haystack was easier to find than a position like hers. She had to find a way to stay here in Charleston, where she took care of her grandmother. If she lost this job, she could be out of work for longer than her savings would last.

“Does that mean the tenure spot that’s still open won’t be filled either?” she asked, reaching for a straw. If she could get this coveted position, she’d be safe from the budget cuts.

“No, it’ll be filled, just as planned. But as you know, you’re not the only one who’s competing for tenure.”

As if she didn’t know it. Kenton Lowry, her colleague who’d been an assistant professor for less time than Penny, was trying to impress the tenure committee with his research about ancient Greek weapons.

“But I still have a shot, don’t I?” she asked Michelle, hating the desperate tone in her voice. But it was hard to hide the despair that bubbled up now. If she lost her job, not only her own life would be uprooted, what would be worse was that her grandmother’s life would change too: dependent on Penny, she would have to move wherever Penny found a new job—if she found a new job!—and leave her doctors and physical therapist, as well as the house in which she’d lived for over fifty years. Penny wasn’t sure her beloved Grams would survive it. After the bad fall she’d taken a few months earlier, her health had been slow to improve.

“The tenure committee won’t make their decision for a few months. There’s still time. Of course, you know that unless you’re already working on a new article to be published, you’re not going to make the deadline,” Michelle cautioned.

“I’m in the middle of a research project right now. No worries. It’s almost ready for publication,” Penny lied. The last thing she wanted to do was let Michelle, who sat on the tenure committee, know that she didn’t even know what to write about.

“Good, good. I hope it’s something noteworthy. Something new and different that will impress the committee,” Michelle said.

Something new and different in the world of Greek mythology? Who was she kidding? People had been writing on this subject for thousands of years.

“Of course, yes, it is,” Penny hastened to answer.

“I’m rooting for you.” Michelle smiled, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Thanks, Michelle, I really appreciate it.”

Michelle nodded and walked out of Penny’s office, closing the door behind her.

Penny slumped back into her chair and dropped her head onto her desk, resting her forehead on the cool surface. What would she do now? She hadn’t worked on any important research projects in the last few months, the care for her grandmother having taken up all of her time outside her classes. There’d been no time to find the right subject to sink her teeth into in order to gain tenure. And now, with only a few short weeks until she had to present the tenure committee with a published article—yes, published by a journal, not just ready for publication—how would she accomplish this impossible feat? Everything was riding on it. Her grandmother was counting on her. Her grandmother’s small pension and savings weren’t nearly enough to cover the cost for her living expenses and the therapists and nurse she needed daily. Without Penny’s income to support them, she would have to let the nurse go and cut down on her physical therapy sessions. It would be a major setback for her grandmother’s health and mean that maybe she would never truly recover again.

Penny pushed back the rising tears. No, crying wouldn’t help. She had to clear her head and put all her energy toward obtaining tenure. It was the only way to save her job, her income, and her life with her grandmother.

Pulling in a deep breath, she rose, snatched her handbag and walked out of her office and the building. Fresh air, a strong cup of Vivian’s coffee, and a flaky pastry dripping with chocolate was what she needed right now to wrestle back control of her emotions. Then, invigorated, she would return to her office and find a project that would secure her the tenure spot.

Penny crossed the street, walking behind two men, not close enough to hear their conversation, but close enough to appreciate their well-formed backsides. She let the view seep into her consciousness and distract her for a moment. Long legs moved in tandem—a steady rhythm, a strong and commanding gait. She could almost see the definition of muscles flexing and moving with each long step.

Soft cotton shirts, sea foam green and aqua blue, hugged their backs, stretching across shoulder blades and ending in short sleeves that revealed strong, toned arms. Not bodybuilder arms with bulging biceps, but the kind of muscle definition that gave a woman a quick flutter of longing when she ran her fingers across the silky skin covering them and felt the hardness buried beneath.

Penny sighed. She didn’t know which man was more beautiful. Before she could think on it further, the sky overhead boomed, then opened up and swamped her in a downpour.

“Of course,” she grunted, looking up to the heavens. Because in her life, it didn’t just rain, it poured.

As if in answer to her cry, the pelting rain increased, drenching her and flooding the streets. She started to run down the cobblestone street to Vivian’s Café, briefly wondering where the two hot guys had disappeared to. But the thought was gone as the water rose, making her flight perilous in her high heels. She slipped them off her feet and ran the rest of the way barefoot, the creek that had formed along the curb soaking her slacks well above her ankles.

She burst into Vivian’s and ran straight for the fireplace, the fire’s heat warming the chill in her bones. “This isn’t my day,” she called out to Vivian, her friend and the shop’s owner.

“Wow, look at you,” Vivian said from behind the long pastry-laden counter. She grabbed a towel from under it and hurried toward her.

Penny accepted it gratefully. “You’re a lifesaver,” she said, blotting her wet face, her dripping hair, and her drenched clothes.

She quickly scanned the café and saw two customers she recognized: sea foam green and aqua blue. They were sitting at a table behind her, close to the fire, their smiles wide. Penny’s breath instantly hitched. She’d thought their backsides were something to gape at, but if she stared any longer at their handsome features, she’d need resuscitation.

Obviously, there was a film crew in town. Both these men were beyond heart-stopping gorgeous in a way only Hollywood could deliver. She didn’t know which one was more stunning: the one with flashing blue eyes and sun-kissed golden hair, or the one with deep melting-chocolate brown eyes and thick wavy hair to match. Her knees weakened and she grabbed the mantle for support.

She gave a half-hearted loopy smile as embarrassment swept through her. She probably looked like a drowned rat, whereas the two gorgeous hunks appeared dry as a bone. How had they managed to escape the downpour?

“You look like you could use a latte,” Vivian said, bustling back to the counter.

Penny tore her gaze from the handsome men and looked over at her friend. “Make it a double.”

It would help her focus, because for certain she had no time to be distracted by a good looking man. She needed to keep her mind on her job and her research.

~ ~ ~

“Now there’s a tasty morsel I could sink my teeth into,” Hermes said, watching the dripping woman standing by the fireplace with amusement. Her cream-colored blouse and slacks were completely soaked and sticking to her skin in a very provocative manner.

“I do say the woman has impeccable taste in undergarments,” Triton agreed, a wide smile spreading his lips.

“Don’t let Sophia hear that,” Hermes cautioned his friend.

“I’m married, not blind,” Triton responded, but Hermes barely listened, because his eyes already feasted on the woman.

The delicate lace bra barely held her plump breasts, and did little to hide the tight rosy buds pushing against the fabric. Just staring at the fullness of her bosom made his mouth water. The poor woman was freezing and drenched. He should do something to make her more comfortable. Like get her out of those wet clothes and into his bed. He started to rise, when Triton placed a hand on his forearm.

“As we were saying?”

Hermes reluctantly turned back to him. “Saying?”

“About Sophia’s party.”

“Surely this little soirée planning can wait until this evening? That poor woman is in desperate need of warming.”

“It can’t,” Triton said, shaking his head.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” Hermes complained.

“A woman like her would require more than an afternoon of your attention,” Triton replied. “And you don’t have that kind of time right now. The party is this Saturday, and at the speed we’re working right now, Sophia will turn fifty before this party is on its way.”

“You exaggerate, as always! Just call the servants and have them…”

His words died in his throat as the woman in question seemed to finally realize the delicious view her wet clothes were providing and turned the most becoming shade of pink. She quickly spun around and faced the fire, in turn providing him with a beautiful view of her ass and the thin thong lacing the seam between her cheeks. His admiration for this century’s idea of women’s underwear rose—just as his cock did.

“Hermes,” Triton said, his voice becoming insistent.

Hermes groaned and turned back to him. “You’re right,” he relented.

If he got his hands on that sweet body, he wouldn’t want to stop until he was buried deep within her, and she was screaming for mercy. Yes, he would require more than an afternoon to satisfy himself on each of her delicate curves and hollows.

“I promised I would help throw your adorable wife a surprise party and I will.” With regret, he gazed one last time at the lovely woman by the fire, then turned his attention back to his friend. “Now what were we saying?”

For what seemed like an eternity, Hermes tried to focus on Triton’s ideas—something about finger foods and desserts. If anybody asked him, his friend had become way too domesticated. Sophia was enchanting, but Hermes could never see himself tied down like that, handcuffed to the point of spending an afternoon discussing cheese and chocolate, instead of diving under the covers with creamy skin, lace panties and long, dark ringlets framing high cheekbones.

Hermes looked back at the woman who had planted wanton thoughts in his mind. She still stood in front of the fireplace, warming her palms on a large mug of frothy coffee clutched between her hands. The way she held that cup with such ardor . . . She took a drink from the brim, her eyes meeting his, and darkening slightly. She was attracted to him. Not that he was surprised; most mortal women were, but he realized the magnetic pull between them was strung as tightly as one of Eros’s bows. And he couldn’t wait to pluck it—or rather her.

She set the cup down on the mantle, her sweet tongue peeking out to sweep the foam off her lips. He heard a soft sigh of pleasure leave her mouth, and it sent a bolt of desire straight to his loins, thickening his cock, making him wish he could take her right there on top of one of the wooden tables, in front of that roaring fire.

As if she could read his thoughts, color once again filled her cheeks. In a soft flutter, she raised a hand to her chest. He saw the quickness of her breath by the soft rise and fall of her breasts. Yes, she was a very passionate woman and she was right there, ready for the taking.

“Hermes!” Triton’s voice rose in conjunction with thunder booming overhead. “Your father is calling,” he said with a smirk, slipping into Ancient Greek, their native tongue, which nobody apart from the gods and a few scholars spoke these days.

Hermes rolled his eyes. “Why the old man can’t get with the program and use a cell phone like everyone else, I’ll never know.”

“Because it’s much more fun to summon you the old-fashioned way. Is he still on your case?”

“Like a dog with a bone. Now that you and Dionysus have settled down—and are really cramping my style if I may add—he wants the same for me. As if that will ever happen!”

“How very hypocritical of him,” Triton said dryly.

“You know it!”

“Maybe you should humor him and give it a go?” Triton hedged, a glint of humor in his eyes. “You never know, you might just like monogamy. Falling in love. Living to make the woman of your dreams happy.”

“Another word and I’ll shove it right back down your throat,” Hermes barked. “It’ll be a cold day in Hades before that will ever happen. Mark my words!”

“Hold your ponies there, bad boy. All I’m saying is that I know how you feel. I was the same way, and Dio was the biggest cad of us all—”

“That remains to be seen,” Hermes interjected.

“The point is we both found something—someone—who fulfilled us even more than our bachelor ways. And you can, too.”

Hermes leaned forward, catching Triton’s eye and holding it. “I’d rather be Zeus’s goat.”

Triton burst out laughing, drawing the attention of both women on them. Both were now standing by the fireplace, their heads together and their voices low.

Hermes couldn’t help wondering what the two were talking about and had to admit he hoped it was him. “Are we done here? I’d better go see what the old buzzard wants.”

“Baaaaa. Fine.” Triton stood. “I’ll get Dio’s help with the wine and cake.”

“Ah, before I forget. I saw Michael the other day.”

Triton’s eyebrows snapped together in irritation. “Sophia’s cousin? He knows not to go anywhere near her!”

Hermes held up his hand to calm him. Triton was very touchy when it came to Sophia’s no-good cousin. After all, he’d made several attempts on her life in order to get at her inheritance, a plan that had failed, thanks to Triton.

“And he didn’t. He was nowhere near your house. Turns out he’s working for some company that installs safes in people’s houses.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me! How did he pass the background check?”

Hermes shrugged. “Beats me. But it looks like he’s apprenticing in another profession, since his embezzling scheme didn’t work out so well. Better keep an eye on him just in case he’s up to something.” Hermes rose, snatching his half-finished drink from the table.

Triton stood. “Thanks for the heads-up. And make sure you’re at Sophia’s party on Saturday night at seven.” He motioned to the fireplace behind Hermes’ shoulders, then added, “Bring a date!” as he headed out the door.

Hermes turned to give his friend’s suggestion more thought and collided with the pretty brunette, spilling his iced coffee down the front of her now-dry blouse, and soaking it all over again.

At her cry of distress, he couldn’t stop a smile from spreading over his face. “Oh bummer, sweetheart. Now I’ve done it.”

He snatched a napkin from the table and proceeded to pat her slowly and thoroughly dry, paying particular attention to the wet spots covering her breasts.

3

Penny gasped as iced coffee drenched her breasts, then froze as embarrassment heated her cheeks. This gorgeous man was rubbing her boobs! Trying to sop up the liquid, yes. But he was rubbing her boobs! Her nipples weren’t just standing at attention, they were saluting with every aching stroke.

Desire tore through her, weakening her knees and filling her with intense need. She drew in a ragged breath then took a quick, decisive step back, bumping into a chair and almost knocking it over.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, reaching for her again.

Another minute of this and she would be stepping forward, ripping her blouse off, and begging him to do it again—this time without any fabric impeding his action. She righted the chair, then quickly looked back up at him.

“It’s okay. Really. I’ve got it.” She reached for the towel she’d left on the table earlier and pressed it against her chest, covering the way her nipples were showing through the thin silk fabric. The measure offered a modicum of comfort.

“Let me at least pay for the cleaning,” he offered, still staring at her chest.

Her cheeks continued burning as more heat rose to her face. “It’s fine. Hand washable. No problem. Really,” she stammered, though the God-honest truth was she wanted to feel his hands on her again. The juncture between her thighs was practically begging for him to take her.

“I’m Hermes,” he said, extending the hand that only moments ago had lit her on fire.

And he hadn’t even been trying. What if he had? Her throat closed over a low moan. Melting brown eyes caught hers and for a moment, her brain could barely process what he’d said. Then his words came rushing back, and the wheels in her brain began to spin.

“Hermes?” she blurted. “As in the Greek god, Hermes?” A high pitch of surprise lifted her voice. He was named after Hermes? Her dream god? How many times had she stared at Hermes’ statue, at the long patrician nose, strong jaw, and oh-so-kissable lips carved out of alabaster marble? How many times had she wished he’d come to life just for her?

He shrugged, giving her a smile that almost stopped her heart. She pressed her fist against her chest.

“The one and only,” he said, taking a step closer to her and stealing all breathable air.

Darn, it was getting hotter in here. Vivian was overdoing it with the fireplace.

“My mother was a bit of a romantic,” he said, the low timbre of his voice turning the skin on her arms into gooseflesh.

“Oh, yes,” she said as words failed her. Why give a baby a name he’d most likely be bullied for? Where had his father been when his mother had chosen that name?

“I feel really bad about this. How about you let me take you out to dinner to make up for my clumsiness?”

“Dinner?” she repeated, feeling like a parrot that could only utter single words. Over his shoulder, Vivian’s head was bobbing up and down, urging her to accept.

Could she do dinner with this man? Two hours of trying to make conversation where she didn’t sound like a complete idiot, while all the time wishing he would sweep her off her feet and whisk her to the nearest bed? That was the last thing she needed. Right now, she needed to focus on her career, on keeping her job and coming up with an article that would knock the voting committee’s socks off. Not go out with a man who was sure to knock her socks off, and her pants, bra, and panties.

“Uh…”

“Well? What do you say?” he pressed.

That was just it. She couldn’t seem to get anything past her dry lips except low guttural moans. Mr. Dreamy-eyes was short-circuiting her brain. No, he was a distraction she didn’t need. Not now. Maybe after she’d saved her job by getting tenure. Definitely after…

Thunder rolled overhead and, for a moment, Hermes looked up at the ceiling, annoyance crossing his face. Then, just as quickly, the look was gone, and he was staring back at her again. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Penelope,” she said.

“Penelope,” he repeated, rolling her name over his tongue as if it were a sip of full-bodied red wine.

“Penny,” she corrected, still feeling a little breathless. Which probably accounted for the lightheadedness that made her feel like a high school girl who’d just been asked out by the most popular guy in her entire school.

“So will you do me the honors? Dinner?”

No, sorry, she tried to say, but instead her head was nodding in the affirmative before she could even form the words to explain why she couldn’t or shouldn’t go out with him. Why it was a bad idea. Because it was a bad idea. A terrible idea.

“Wonderful. Where should I pick you up?”

“Here?” she said in a small squeak, wanting to back pedal, to just say no, to get out of it, but her body wasn’t cooperating.

“Perfect. Eight o’clock?”

She was nodding again. What was she doing? She was crazy. She should tell him no. Tell him she couldn’t. That she was busy. That she had to wash her hair or rearrange her books in alphabetical order.

But then he leaned forward, his lips grazing her cheek, sending her heart soaring, her nerve endings crackling, and her throat closing up over any protestations that could possibly escape.

A girl had to eat, right?

“It was wonderful to meet you, Penelope. Ta léme syntoma,” he said softly.

“Yes, soon,” she answered automatically, her fingers instinctively touching the spot on her cheek where he’d kissed her.

He raised his eyebrows at her response, when she realized his last words had been spoken in Ancient Greek. All of a sudden, he looked even more interested in her than he had before. If that was even possible.

She watched him leave, then collapsed on the nearest chair.

“What was that?” Vivian asked, rushing over to her.

“Me, swooning. Good old-fashioned, Scarlett O’Hara swooning.”

~ ~ ~

Hermes walked into the soaring marble room, barely looking up at the towering dome above him, covered with intricate Fresco paintings and etched in gold curlicues. The entire room, with its polished marble and towering statues stolen from various temples over the centuries, had always been too garish for his taste. But he did love the antechamber with its wall-to-wall windows looking out at a meadow of green, peppered with ancient oaks and split with a flowing ribbon of blue water.

He found Zeus in this room, now staring down through the wide floor onto the earth below. The large panel zoomed in on the streets of New York City, showing throngs of people bustling down sidewalks and clogging up the streets in taxis and cars. Hermes almost wished he could change the view to Charleston and take a peek at the delectable Penny instead. Perhaps he’d even find her taking a shower. A hot, steamy shower. She’d looked delicious when wet.

“Hello, Father,” he said, announcing his presence. “Watching anyone in particular?”

The view quickly panned out to thirty thousand feet when Zeus turned to him.

“You know me, I have my favorites I like to keep an eye on.”

Mortals who caught Zeus’s eye didn’t always fare well, especially if his wife Hera got involved. Though Hermes was a little curious to know who in particular in New York had garnered Zeus’s attention.

“Well, next time you need me, why don’t you try calling me on this?” Hermes handed him a cell phone. “It’s a nifty little device. You can reach me anytime, anywhere.”

“I know what a cell phone is,” Zeus said dryly, and picked up the phone.

Impeccably dressed in a light grey silk Armani suit with matching tie, Zeus dropped the phone into his pocket as he slipped behind his large, white marble desk in the center of the room.

“Nice suit,” Hermes said. “Due for a meeting? Perhaps in the Big Apple?”

“Yes, and I need you to take care of a matter while I’m gone.”

Hermes nodded. The fact that Zeus hadn’t elaborated on his plans wasn’t lost on him. Zeus rarely filled him in on his personal life. “What do you need, Father?”

Zeus picked up a long piece of paper from his desk, creased it down the center, then slipped it into a linen envelope and pressed his ring against the flap on the back. A quick flash, and his seal was applied.

“Deliver this contract to Hades, post haste. In fact, I need you to offer your services to him and help him get things running smoothly while I’m gone.”

Hermes nodded, rubbing his chin. Escorting souls to the underworld wasn’t new to him, but it was a task he didn’t particularly enjoy. “I can help a little, but I have to be back for Sophia’s surprise party this weekend.”

For a second, Zeus rubbed his own chin, mimicking Hermes’ gesture. Hermes immediately dropped his hand to his side, hating that he had something in common with his sire.

“Ah, the lovely Sophia.” Zeus’s icicle-blue eyes met Hermes’ over the large marble desk. “I don’t believe I’ve received my invitation.”

Hermes wanted to kick himself. He should have known better than to mention the party to him. Zeus had developed a particular fondness for Sophia that made him nervous—and Triton venomous. Now Zeus would expect an invitation, and Hermes would have to spend the whole night trying to keep the peace.

“Don’t worry, Father, we’re just behind on all the preparations. We were working on the party when you called.” He glanced at his watch. “In fact, I should get back and help Triton now.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Zeus walked around the desk, and handed him the envelope. “What you should do is deliver this contract and help Hades in any way you can, and for as long as he needs you. The souls are piling up at the Styx’s riverbank. The workers are on the brink of a strike and refusing to do their jobs.” He leaned forward, his jaw stiffening. “Gods and demi-gods everywhere are losing their sense of responsibility in this new age. They’re becoming fat and lazy. Take you, for example.” He gestured toward Hermes with one hand. “When are you going to settle down? There is more to life than parties and wining and dining the ladies. You have responsibilities. It’s about time you lived up to them.”

“Hey, now! I come every time you call,” Hermes protested, annoyed that nothing he ever did was good enough for Zeus. No matter what it was—boxing, hunting, saving Zeus’s life—he could never impress the old man.

“Yes, you come,” Zeus agreed. “You do exactly what I tell you to do. But that’s just it. Where is your initiative? When do you ever think, hey, there is something I can do. And do well!”

Hermes bristled. “Is this about my work or my bachelor status?”

“You cannot continue your philandering and irresponsible ways forever. It’s time to grow up, Son, and become a man. You need to find yourself a woman. Sophia is a doll. And Dionysus’s new wife, Ariadne, is a lovely creature. And their baby is adorable. When are you going to find someone to settle that racing spirit of yours?”

Hermes stood stone-faced and took Zeus’s rant with outward calm. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard it before. Many times, in fact. But no matter what he did to try and prove to Zeus that he didn’t need to be settled down with one woman to conduct his duties and be an adult, they always circled back around to this same tired old argument. He clamped down on the surge of annoyance that rose in his belly.

Hermes wanted to tell Zeus to go pound sand, but knew it would only make matters worse. The best thing he could do was stand there zip-lipped and take it. Or he could throw Zeus a bone.

He took a deep, calming breath, waited a few seconds and said, “As it happens, I’m dating someone very special now.” Not entirely a lie. They just hadn’t actually gone out yet.

“Oh?” Zeus asked, clearly surprised. “You mean as in more than once? She must be a helluva roll in the hay.”

Hermes stiffened. Zeus had no boundaries when it came to women. Even if they were married or dating one of his sons. “I wouldn’t know,” he said dryly. “We haven’t gotten that far yet. We’re taking it slowly, getting to know one another first.”

“What?” Zeus asked, clearly stunned.

“Yes.” The more Hermes spoke, the more the lie kept building. “She’s taking me to meet her family this weekend.” Anything to get the old man off his back for a while.

Finally, Zeus smiled, stepped forward, and patted him on the back, shocking Hermes. “Glad to hear it, Son. Great to see you’re finally wising up and joining the ranks of adulthood with your friends. It only took a few thousand years, eh?” He chuckled. “I’ll expect to meet this wonder woman at Sophia’s party.” Then he turned and was gone, his laugh still vibrating in the marble dome above.

Annoyance clawed at Hermes as he watched the space Zeus had just vacated.

It didn’t matter what he did, how hard he worked. Zeus wouldn’t be happy until Hermes was tied down with a ball and chain. A big one.

Fine, if Zeus wanted him to date Penny so badly then he’d get exactly what he was asking for.

And unlike other chores Zeus ordered him to perform, this one would be no hardship—no hardship at all.

4

Penny hurried down the sidewalk, her heart pounding as she kicked herself for agreeing to go to dinner with Hermes. She’d checked on her grandmother, made her dinner, got her settled in for the night, and now she was running late. The sad truth was Penny had no business going to dinner with a handsome stranger. She needed to go back to the office and work. She had to do more research, find a topic that both intrigued her and would finally convince the tenure committee. What she didn’t need was dinner out with a man who was sure to distract her from this task by turning her brain to mush with those sinful lips and penetrating eyes.

She checked the clock on her phone. Ten minutes late. She pulled open the door and stepped inside Vivian’s, hoping Hermes wouldn’t be there, that he would have gotten tired of waiting for her and left. Hermes. The gods were surely laughing at her expense. The first eligible, hot guy she’d met in months, and he had to be named Hermes. The irony wasn’t lost on her: even if she wanted to forget about work for one night, how could she accomplish that in the presence of a man named Hermes?

There he was, standing at the long wooden counter, talking to Vivian, who looked all flushed and flustered. Apparently, Penny wasn’t the only one he made brain-addled.

“Hi, sorry I’m late,” Penny called as she approached.

“Not at all,” Hermes greeted her, took her hand and raised it to his lips.

Penny paused, trying to catch her breath and reign in her hammering heart. Hermes wasn’t helping. She’d thought for certain she’d exaggerated in her mind how good looking he was. That somehow, once she saw him again, she would realize that he looked just like everyone else. Perhaps a more handsome version of everyone else, but certainly not like . . . like a Greek god.

She smiled, not knowing what to say.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his deep voice plucking her like an overly tightened guitar string.

She swallowed. “Thank you.”

“Vivian was just telling me how much you love fish.”

Penny glanced at her friend, nodding. “It’s my favorite food.”

“Great, then you’ll love the place I’ve chosen for us for tonight.” Hermes slipped his hand to her waist, his touch sending an electrical charge pulsing through her skin to spark her nerves and make her heart stutter.

She smiled, blabbering dribble as he led her out of the coffee shop. Penny glanced over her shoulder as she walked out the door. Vivian smiled and gave her the thumbs-up sign. Penny grimaced. A quick dinner, a fake headache, and if she was lucky, she could be back in her office in an hour. Unfazed and untouched.

Who was she kidding? Even if she could get in and out of dinner quickly, she would be lucky if she made it through the night with her faculties still intact. This man was way out of her league.

They walked down the cobblestone streets along the waterfront and into one of the most exclusive restaurants in Charleston. Penny had always wanted to eat here, but never dared, knowing the selections were out of her price range, and that reservations days in advance were mandatory.

How had Hermes gotten a table on such short notice? Impressed, she looked up at him. The Maitre d’ surprised her even further by quickly seating them in front of a large stone fireplace. Obviously the best table in the house.

“Are you famous or something?” she asked, perusing his face. She didn’t have a lot of time to keep up with movies or television shows. It was entirely possible that he was some sort of celebrity, and she was the only person in Charleston who was unaware of this fact.

Hermes laughed, the sound warming her insides. “I just know the right people.” He picked up a menu and glanced at it. “Have you eaten here before?”

“No,” she admitted, looking around her at the fine crystal, exquisite flowers and soft linen. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“My friend, Triton, says it has the best seafood in town, and trust me, he would know.”

“Triton?” Surely he was kidding her. But as she watched his face, she saw no sign he was jesting. Why not another Greek god’s name?

His eyes met hers and crinkled with a smile. “Our mothers were friends. We grew up together.”

She nodded, but was saved from commenting when the waiter arrived. Hermes ordered the wine, then set down the menu. “Do you mind if I order for us?”

Penny didn’t usually like it when men took charge of her meals, but right now, studying the menu and making a selection seemed to require more energy than she could muster. “Not at all.”

He ordered for them both. A minute later, the waiter brought the wine, opened it, and poured a small amount into a glass, which he handed to Hermes. He took a whiff, swirled the deep red liquid in the crystal glass, and then sipped it. His eyes drifted closed, and a look of pleasure spread over his face. He nodded to the waiter and by the time Penny’s glass was filled, she couldn’t wait to try it.

She rolled the wine on her tongue, savoring the smooth taste of luscious fruit, a hint of smoky oak and a long, lingering finish that made her want to sigh contentedly.

“You like it?” Hermes asked, amusement glinting in his eyes.

“Love it.”

“My friend and his wife own a wine shop. And luckily, they supply this restaurant. This is one of their favorites.”

“I can see why. So, tell me, Hermes. What do you do for a living?” she asked, after the waiter placed a basket of warm rolls on the table between them.

He picked up a roll. “I’m in the messenger business.”

“The messenger business?” She took in his fine silk suit, manicured nails, impeccable skin, and figured he wasn’t a delivery man for UPS. Nor FedEx, nor the US Postal Service.

“You mean something to do with computers?” she asked, grasping.

“Sometimes. But rarely.” He smiled, his hand reaching across the table to hers.