Andreas listened with barely concealed impatience. “So you have to have all the pieces to figure out what it says?”
“It would be best. I can translate much of what’s here, except the odd parts, but there will be gaps.”
“Shit,” Andreas growled.
“The other pieces shouldn’t be too difficult to locate,” Rebecca said calmly. “Archaeologists are manic about keeping records, at least in this day and age, and the museum will know exactly where all these pieces went. Also, if this inscription is a copy from something older, like a temple wall or tomb, there will be records of that, too.”
“Unless the other pieces were destroyed or never found,” Patricia said glumly. “It happens.”
“We can but try,” Rebecca said with confidence. “I know a lot of people in the archaeological world, and those people know people. Let me make some calls. You’d be surprised how much we can unearth, pardon the pun.”
Nico hid a smile. Their translator was a little geeky, but she was smart, optimistic, and capable. Patricia had made a good choice.
Andreas caught Rebecca’s eye and waggled his tongue at her. Instantly she subsided into incoherent blushing, and Andreas grinned. It made Nico wonder just what his friend had gotten up to in the night.
REBECCA scolded herself as she entered her snug room to start making phone calls. She’d had a dream last night, was all. Nothing to get all flustered about every time she saw Andreas.
But looking into Andreas’s chill blue eyes, she understood why she’d dreamed him as a snow leopard. His mottled hair, his gleaming smile, and above all, his eyes, so beautiful and cool and arrogant, made her think of a beautiful wild cat. She’d seen a snow leopard only once, a sad specimen in a zoo, but her dream leopard had been strong and sleek.
She vividly recalled the cat’s strength as he’d climbed onto her, his breath hot between her breasts. He’d known exactly where to lick . . .
Rebecca found her face heating again, and she banished the memory. It was a silly dream, but she realized what it meant. She’d wanted Andreas to do those things, and her dream had put him in the form of a leopard to keep herself from admitting it.
She made herself work hard in the autumn sunshine on her room’s little porch. She liked problems like the strange hieroglyphs, unraveling inscriptions no one else had unraveled before.
Rebecca had made her name proving that the uninteresting could be important. A minor priest’s account of what happened at a temple could solve the mystery of where a lost queen might be buried. She’d won awards for her work.
But spending days hunched over her desk or scorching weeks in the desert brushing dust from a piece of stone disrupted her love life—what there was of it. She hadn’t been laid since . . . Oh, God, she’d forgotten.
She looked across the grounds and saw Andreas out on the grass, tossing a football back and forth with Nico. Just an ordinary guy in tight jeans and a sweatshirt, except that she’d turned him into a leopard in her dreams.
It was Saturday, and she didn’t have a class to teach until Tuesday. She could spend the next three days here dawdling in this nice B and B with sexy Andreas. She hummed softly as she worked, enjoying the nice weather she missed shut up in an office.
A shadow obscured her papers, and she looked up in annoyance. Andreas leaned on the porch rail watching her, the three cats twining around his feet. He’d abandoned the football and Nico, who was walking away with his arm around Patricia.
“Andreas.” She gulped.
He leaned over the porch rail and peered at the papers strewn across the table. Rebecca didn’t let herself look at the way the blue jeans hugged his hips or at his zippered fly and speculate what his cock looked like lying snug inside.
“Getting anywhere?” he asked.
“What? Oh, the translation. It’s moving ahead.”
“How long will it take you?”
Her nervousness turned to irritation. “I don’t know. It’s not like scrubbing a bathtub. There are nuances, and I don’t want to miss anything.”
“Do you scrub many bathtubs?”
What was he talking about? “I live by myself, so yes. There’s no one else to do it.”
His eyes took on a mischievous glint. “I think I’d enjoy watching you scrub a bathtub.”
She couldn’t imagine why, and the way he looked at her embarrassed her and irritated her.
“I had a dream about you last night,” she said sharply. “Or I think I did. You turned into a leopard.”
His brows rose. “Really? What did I do?”
“You just . . . were a leopard. The cats were in it, too, following you around like they always do.”
“They can’t get enough of me.”
Isis and Red Kitty were practically binding his ankles with their tails. Peachy perched on the porch railing beside him, closing her eyes as Andreas scratched her chin.
He looked too good. His sweatshirt stretched across hard shoulders, his throat strong and tanned. Blond hair covered muscular forearms that were crisscrossed with little scars. He’d shaved this morning, a faint scent of aftershave clinging to him.
“Maybe if I help, it will go faster,” he said. He invited himself up the porch steps and scraped a chair out from the table.
“You read hieroglyphs?”
“Some. I can read enough to know that the inscription is about us.”
Rebecca blinked at him. “About you? How could it be?”
He put his finger on the picture of a wild cat and the hieroglyphs next to it. Transliterated, they sounded like ndr. Egyptians didn’t include vowels when they wrote; the reader filled them in.
“That’s one of the words that makes no sense to me,” she said.
“It’s the name Andrei, the Greek form. I changed it to Andreas as times changed, because people could spell and pronounce it easier.”
He pointed to a picture of a man with wings. The copier had drawn detailed feathers that flowed down the man’s back and curled at his feet. The inscription transliterated as ncls.
“Nikolaus,” Andreas said. “Which he shortened to Nico.”
Rebecca laughed at him. “Andreas, this inscription is several thousand years old. I’ll know exactly how old if we can find the original. As egotistical as you are, it can’t be about you.”
“It doesn’t matter what you believe.” He lounged back, clasping his hands behind his head. “As long as you find an answer for us. Soon.”
“I don’t work for you,” she said in irritation. “I’m doing this as a favor to Patricia. You and Nico are the ones who insisted I stay here with you, but you keep interrupting me. I’m getting it done as fast as I can.”
Andreas slanted her an unreadable glance. “I’ll make it up to you.” His voice went dark. “Promise.”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked nervously.
Andreas leaned forward, putting his face near hers. “I know you like being licked between your breasts. I can do that for you.”
Her face flamed. “You can’t know that.”
“Afraid I do.” He tapped the picture of the wild cat. “It wasn’t a dream, sweetheart. You tasted nice.”
Her throat went dry. “You can’t possibly know everything I dreamed.”
Andreas skimmed his fingers down her throat and brushed the hollow of her collarbone. “You’re awake now. Isn’t it better this way?”
Rebecca wanted to stop him. She opened her mouth to tell him she would never finish the translation if he distracted her so much, but she seemed robbed of words.
She closed her eyes as his warm fingers continued downward, then he tugged at the lace of her bra. “Take this off.”
Her eyes popped open. “You mean right here?”
“Take it off and put it on the table.”
Rebecca glanced quickly over the porch railing, but she could see no one in the yard. The room was tucked into a corner, the porch shielded from the front of the house by two big trees.
She
wet her lips. The Rebecca she knew would never dream of obeying him. She was practical, disciplined, smart, and sensible.
Her fingers seemed to move of their own accord as she slowly undid the buttons of her blouse. Andreas watched with flattering interest while she loosened the shirt enough for her to reach around and unhook the bra.
She’d mastered the art of removing her bra without taking off her shirt, wanting to rid herself of its binding spandex the instant she came home. She slid the shoulder straps down her sleeves and over her hands and then pulled the black lace bra away from her chest and laid it on the table.
Her blouse still covered her, but Andreas’s gaze raked her as though he could see everything underneath it. “How long did it take you to learn to be so coy?”
“Is this being coy?”
“You’re a tease.”
“I can’t be a tease. I have no one to tease.”
“Open your blouse and show me your breasts.”
She gasped at the abrupt command. “Why should you want me to?”
“You want to,” he said flatly. “But you’re waiting for permission.” He gestured to her shirt. “Come on, show me.”
The Rebecca she knew would snort in derision, tell him he was full of himself, and that she had things to do.
No, wait—the Rebecca she knew would never even get this kind of request.
Her fingers shook as she slid the rest of the buttons free. She closed her eyes briefly, then threw her inhibitions to the wind and slowly pulled open the blouse.
Cool air touched her breasts, which had never been bare outdoors before. Her skin tingled, and something inside her squeezed in excitement.
Andreas tilted his head as he studied her breasts, and she felt the absurd hope that he’d like them. The approval that flickered in his eyes made her want to give him more.
She pulled the blouse apart and slid it from her shoulders, letting it rest halfway down her arms.
Andreas growled. He slid his chair back from the table, and before she knew what was happening, he had her out of her chair and on his lap, straddling his legs.
He leaned her back, and as the leopard had, licked between her breasts all the way up to her throat. Rebecca sucked in her breath, her quim going hot and wet. She loved the way he’d spread her legs around him, and for some reason she wanted to rub herself against his thighs.
Andreas traced circles on her neck, then licked all the way up to her lips. He danced his tongue around them, reminding her of what the leopard had done last night.
“This can’t be happening,” she said against his playing tongue. “I’m dreaming.”
He cupped her bared breast, rolling her tight nipple between finger and thumb. “Does this feel like a dream?”
“The best dream.”
He kissed her. His lips opened hers, his demanding tongue delving inside her mouth. It had been so long, so long, since a man had kissed her, and then they’d never kissed her like Andreas. She was coming in her pants, her hips moving back and forth like she was fucking him.
“Easy, darling.” Andreas slowed the kisses, licking inside her mouth again. “You don’t want to use me up too soon.”
She had no idea what he was talking about. She suddenly wanted to kiss and kiss him, to drag him against her while he fondled her breasts.
She dipped her head and caught his thin gold chain between her teeth. She didn’t know why chewing it was so satisfactory, but she was beyond reasoning.
“You’ll get it, sweetheart,” Andreas rumbled. “I’ll give you all you want. But not yet. Things I have to do first.”
“What things?”
He took her hands and held them still in his strong ones. His eyes glinted, something dark lurking behind the blue.
“Unfinished business. But soon.” He pushed her from his lap, and she landed awkwardly on her feet.
She stared at him, her blouse unbuttoned and half open, the autumn breeze cooling her breasts. What would it be like, the devious imp inside her wondered, to be naked for him out on the grass? What would it be like to lie on the prickling green and spread her legs, inviting him to take her right there?
It would be incredible.
A sudden gust of wind made her shiver, and she dragged her shirt closed.
Andreas got sinuously to his feet and took the black lace bra from the table. “I’ll keep this.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened. She tried to snatch the bra back, but Andreas folded it and stuffed it into his pocket. “Don’t wear it the rest of your stay.”
“I brought two more,” she said faintly.
“Did you?” Andreas swung around and entered her bedroom, rifling the drawers until he found where she’d stashed her underwear. He lifted out two more bras, one white and one cherry red, and wadded them in his hand.
“I’ll give them back when you go home,” he said, then he walked out and banged the bedroom door behind him.
Her breasts suddenly itched, and Rebecca cupped them in her hands, feeling dew trickle between her thighs. No man had ever turned her on like this, and she wasn’t quite sure if she could take it.
His high-handedness about the bra—about everything— annoyed her, but at the same time it excited her to obey him. She sat down at her table again, pulling up the blouse, the fabric against her bare skin making her feel more wicked than she had in her life.
IN another part of the grounds, screened from view by a thick stand of trees, Patricia and Nico lay together on a blanket. They hadn’t undressed, it being a little too chilly, but Nico had wrapped them in his lush wings, which kept them warmer than an electric heater.
“What will you do,” Patricia asked, “if this inscription helps free you from the goddess? What are your plans?”
He nuzzled her, dark eyes enigmatic. “I’ve learned not to have plans. I never think ahead too much.”
“You know that once you’re free, you’d be free of me.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what will happen once the curse is off, if it ever can be. I might leave this world and never come back.”
She blinked. “What do you mean, leave this world?”
He touched her face. “The old gods have been pushed out as the world changes. They live apart now, away from the mundane world. It’s harder now for the gods to move back and forth. Most have given up.”
Patricia rubbed her face on his soft feathers. Nico wasn’t human, as the wings she loved reminded her. He was half god, half nymph, tied to human beings only by the curse.
“I’d miss you,” she said.
“You already have me enslaved. You could keep me here by destroying the inscription before Rebecca can decipher it.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“You’d have nothing to lose.”
Patricia tried to sit up, but he held her too tightly. “I hate that you’re so sure I’ll hurt you. Please believe that I won’t.”
He watched her for a long time, his eyes unreadable, then he kissed her forehead, feathers tickling her. “Like I said, I try to never look too far ahead, love. I’m only looking as far as tonight, and I have so many ideas about that . . .”
Patricia longed to hear them, watch him tell her with his seductive smile, but at that moment, Rebecca screamed.
11
NICO could move like lightning when he needed to, and he reached the porch room well ahead of Patricia. Andreas already had the Dyon in a headlock on the porch, the hissing, struggling creature trying to rake Andreas with his talons.
Rebecca had retreated to the doorway, watching with wide eyes. Nico sensed Patricia come panting up behind him, and at least she, too, was sensible enough to stay out of the way. All three cats stood on the porch railing, fur spiked, howling their encouragement.
“I was working,” Rebecca called. “He just—appeared—and started grabbing my notes.”
Papers were scattered over the floor, some ripped. Nico joined the fight, and the Dyon glared hatred from his yellow eyes.
Hera’s being was strong, and Andreas was having trouble holding on to it. Nico ripped his shirt from his back and let his wings explode out of him. His strength and agility increased when he didn’t mask himself, and he leapt at the Dyon.
Andreas released it, but only long enough to morph into his leopard form, teeth and claws ready.
The Dyon betrayed no fear. He fought hard, but Andreas’s leopard strength coupled with Nico’s god strength bested him quickly.
“Tell your mistress she’s defeating herself,” Nico said, his arm around the Dyon’s throat. “We won’t let her hurt those we’re enslaved to.”
“I tell her nothing,” the Dyon spat. “I am hers to command.”
Nico’s rage boiled over. “Fine.” He snapped the Dyon’s neck.
Rebecca shrieked and clapped her hands to her face. Patricia, knowing how dangerous the Dyons were, relaxed in relief.
The Dyon dissipated into smoke, and suddenly Nico held nothing. The cats hopped down from the rail, tails high, purring loudly as they made for Andreas.
Rebecca’s face was pasty white, and she leaned heavily on the doorframe. “I want to wake up,” she panted. “Why can’t I wake up?”
Andreas growled softly and butted his large head against her legs. Rebecca stared down at him in anguish.
“Oh, God, this is real. You really are a leopard, and I let you . . .”
Patricia passed Nico, her hand firm in his for an instant, then she all but shoved Andreas aside and led Rebecca back into the bedroom. “We need to have a talk,” she said. “A long talk.”
Patricia shut the door in Andreas’s face. Suddenly drained of adrenaline, Nico hid his wings away and sat heavily on the porch stairs. He heard the crackle of bone and fur as Andreas resumed his human shape.
Andreas sat next to Nico and pulled on his jeans, his hard body covered with a sheen of sweat.
“This is getting fucked up,” Andreas said in quiet voice.
Nico nodded agreement, his heart heavy.
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