by Tina Folsom
With her next step, Sophia hit an obstacle and stubbed her big toe.
“Ouch! Damn stupid idiots!” Her curses echoed through the empty house. The eerie sound made her shiver in her t-shirt. She hadn’t bothered with pajama pants because the thermometer was in the high eighties and the fan above her bed was out of order. She’d already told the contractor to fix it soon, otherwise she wouldn’t make it through the heat of the summer.
She bent down to pick up the item, a hammer, before she continued on her search for the disturbing sound. There it was again: a sound as if somebody was scratching against a hard surface, a grating noise that raised the small hairs on the back of her neck.
With more caution than before, she moved forward toward the area where her private studio was located. A new wall had already been pulled in to give a clear separation between the private quarters of the house and the guest rooms on the third floor. The door to the studio was wide open. She could have sworn that it had been closed when she’d gone to bed earlier.
Gripping the hammer tighter in her palm, Sophia pushed the door open completely and peeked into the darkness. The sound clearly came from the newly built walk-in closet.
Something was in there. Or someone.
Her heart hammered in her chest as her breath became more erratic. Adrenaline shot through her veins. Had somebody been able to get in while the contractors were going about their work during the day? Or had the contractors left a door or window unlocked through which a thief could enter?
The house was full of valuable heirlooms, and any thief would lick his chops if he made away with them. She’d locked everything up in large trunks before the renovation had begun so none of the workers would be tempted to steal any valuables, or worse, break them. But instead of storing them offsite, all valuables were locked up in the house.
Sophia lifted the hammer over her head as she approached the closet. Hesitantly, she stretched out her hand and reached for the doorknob.
“I’m armed. You’d better come out, or I’ll shoot!” Well, a little bluffing went a long way. She could only hope it was some juvenile, who would run as soon as he saw her.
There was no answer, but the scratching continued.
Holding her breath, ready to strike with her hammer, she turned the knob and pulled the door open in one jerky move. A split-second later something hit against her legs, and she shrieked and tumbled backwards.
“Mee-oow.”
Sophia caught herself against the wall before she could fall and exhaled sharply.
The soft fur of a cat swished between her ankles, tickling her naked skin.
Relieved, she bent down. “Hey, kitty, kitty. You’ve given me a fright.”
The cat purred contently. Sophia set the hammer on the floor.
“How did you get in here?”
Despite the dim light, Sophia recognized the cat as her neighbor’s. “Did the kids play a prank on you again and lock you in here?” The three little rascals who lived next door had played plenty of tricks on the poor little cat in its short lifetime.
She picked up the animal and pressed it to her chest. “Let’s get you home, huh?”
Breathing easier, Sophia walked back into the hallway. She closed the door to the studio behind her and yawned. She could let the cat out through the back entrance to the kitchen and be back in bed in less than two minutes flat. Sleep sounded wonderful just now.
Holding the cat with one arm, she reached for the handrail of the staircase. The cracking noise warned her too late. Under her hand, the wood splintered.
Sophia lost her balance and slipped. The cat’s claws instantly dug into her other arm. She jolted at the pain, releasing the cat as she fell forward.
With both her hands, she tried to brace her fall, but there was no stopping her descent down the stairs. She tumbled, her legs and arms hitting steps, railing and wall in quick succession without slowing her down.
Her scream never left her throat as she plunged head-first toward the marble floor. Instant blackness washed over her.
Chapter Six
Triton turned on his seat in the lounge, which was virtually empty, given it was only midday. He gave Dionysus a desperate look. “Well, Hermes is no help whatsoever, and don’t even get me started on Eros. He landed me in this predicament in the first place.”
His friend grinned unashamedly. “What landed you in this predicament is your taste for women who belong to other men.”
“You try and find a woman who’s not already taken by Zeus. Pretty hard, I’m telling you,” Triton retorted.
“It’s only been four weeks since—” the god of wine and ecstasy said.
“Only?” Triton huffed angrily. “Do you know how long four weeks are when you’re stuck in the human world without all the luxuries of home?”
His friend made a downward movement with his hand. “Not so loud. You don’t want us to attract attention, do you? May I remind you that I’m risking my neck coming here and helping you against Zeus’ orders—for a second time, if I might add.”
“Yes, yes, and I appreciate it,” Triton replied quickly. “I need your help. So far, the only thing I’ve achieved here is having the entire female population of Charleston drool over me like I’m some kind of pin-up. Somebody even asked me whether I was a Chippendale. Do you know what that is?”
Dionysus grinned. “I don’t suppose you mean the sofa?”
Triton pressed his lips together and gave him a curt smile. “No, they weren’t talking about furniture, unless you count the number of times I’ve been propositioned on a sofa in a coffee shop.”
His friend waved him off and chuckled. “So, I guess the problem isn’t that you can’t find a willing woman.”
“They’re all willing—way too willing if you ask me.” And under other circumstances Triton wouldn’t mind a bit. The kind of promiscuity that reigned on Earth in the twenty-first century suited him just fine.
“You’ve never complained about attracting female attention before.” Dionysus continued smiling as his eyes followed a waitress passing by.
“And, trust me, once this is over, I’ll never complain again. But for now, I need something else. Any suggestions?” Triton gave his friend an expectant look.
Dionysus shrugged. “Should've gone with my idea about the blind woman.”
Triton held up his hand in protest. “No. That's just too low, even by your standards.”
“Whatever. Then tell me what you’ve tried so far. Maybe I can figure out an angle you haven’t thought of yet.”
“Two glasses of Cabernet,” a female voice announced. Triton turned his head to look at the young waitress while she placed the drinks in front of them.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked and batted her eyelashes at Triton. Triton let his gaze sweep over her. She was young, pretty and displayed her female assets prominently. He waited for his hormones to kick in, for the lust to flare up and the blood to pump into his cock at the sight of the enticing woman. He gave it another few seconds—but nothing happened. His heart beat as evenly as before, and his cock remained in its relaxed state. His body wasn’t interested.
Triton waved her off. No need to give her any more encouragement—she wasn’t a suitable candidate. Already now he could sense how she checked him out from head to toe as if she was purchasing a prime cut of meat. Yet her perusal left him entirely cold.
“I might have a little snack later,” Dionysus said and winked at her.
The waitress transferred her attention to Triton’s friend and by the looks they exchanged, Dionysus would get his fair share of horizontal action later.
“I’ll see you on my way out,” the god of wine promised.
“Enjoy your drinks,” she chirped and sauntered out of earshot.
Triton made a head movement toward the disappearing girl. “See what I mean?” That was what he’d had to deal with in the last four weeks—and worse.
His friend licked his lips. “Oh, yeah, it�
�s perfectly clear. It’s a downright hardship. Care to change places?”
“Not funny!” Triton took a gulp from his drink, not even enjoying the beverage.
“So, give me a rundown of what you’ve tried so far. No need to repeat what’s not working.” Dionysus looked at him, curiosity flashing in his eyes.
Triton cleared his throat. This wouldn’t be easy. While he had no trouble telling his friend every detail of his sexual exploits, he was less comfortable telling him about his failures.
“So, at first I went to a few bars, but frankly, it was always the same. I dance with a woman, and we get down to business, but all she wants is a roll in the hay. She doesn’t care if I’m nice by buying her a drink, holding open the door or anything like that. The moment any of them look at me, they start drooling.”
Most of the women had been pretty pathetic. Drooling had been the least of it.
“Too handsome for your own good, huh?”
Triton ignored the stab. “One of them even said I was shallow and a male bimbo, a himbo, nothing up here.” He pointed to his forehead.
“You? No brains? She said that to you, and you still bedded her?” Dionysus shook his head in disbelief.
“She didn’t actually say that to me.” Triton remembered Sophia, the dark-haired beauty he’d met on his first night in Charleston. “She told her friend, and I overheard her.”
His friend laughed. “And she didn’t change her mind after you were done with her?”
Triton’s mind went back to the embarrassing scene where she’d practically slammed the door in his face without so much as allowing him to kiss her tantalizing red lips. “I didn’t take her to bed. How low do you think I’d actually sink?” Which hadn’t stopped Triton from thinking about her. “I’d never sleep with a woman, who so blatantly considers me intellectually inferior.” Not only that, she’d also classified him as unreliable.
But, by the gods, had he wanted to—and he still did. Her face was permanently etched in his memory. Every night, it haunted him in his sleep. And those eyes, their depth, their hidden sensuality. He’d never seen anything the like, not even in a goddess. How a mere mortal could have such a draw on him, a god, he couldn’t explain. Maybe it was because Zeus had stripped him of his powers.
“I’m a god, for Olympus’ sake! I can get women who admire me and adore me and—”
“Hey, hey,” Dionysus interrupted him. “What’s with the rant? Looks like she got up your pant leg like a hornet.”
Triton gulped down a mouthful of his wine, buying himself some time before he answered, “The woman was insolent, disrespectful, and totally annoying.”
Not to mention throw-her-on-the-dance-floor-and-fuck-her-senseless sexy.
“Was she pretty?”
“Of course she was pretty. I’m not running a charity.” He cut off his friend’s chuckle with an icy look.
“Here’s an idea. Go for an ugly woman. She’ll be grateful and consider you the kindest man in the world and fall in love with you just because you noticed her.”
“Tried that too.”
“And?”
“Nothing. Same result. Even the ugly ones fall over themselves the moment they see me and give me that empty stare that tells me they only see the surface. I don’t even get a chance to show any of them that I’m not shallow.”
“Maybe just a little shallow,” Dionysus suggested.
Triton’s arm shot out and grabbed Dionysus by the shirt, pulling him half-way off his seat so fast, his friend could only respond with a shocked glare and an open mouth.
“I’m not shallow—and I’m going to prove it to you and to that damn woman.”
He loosened his grip, and Dionysus immediately dropped back onto his seat, taking pains to rearrange his dress shirt.
“You meant those damn women, plural, right?”
“Of course, what did I say?”
What in Hades was his friend referring to? He’d show all those women and especially Sophia. He would have done it already, but unfortunately he hadn’t seen her anywhere else in town. And Charleston wasn’t big, but no matter where he’d gone, which restaurants and bars he’d visited, which shops he’d prowled, he’d not seen her again.
He'd even gone back to her house in the hope that she would come out and he could pretend to be running into her. But except for some workers, he hadn't seen anybody at the house. Sophia was nowhere to be found. Almost as if she’d vanished from the face of the earth.
“Nothing, just thought I misunderstood, I guess.”
Triton grumbled to himself, barely noticing his friend’s reply. He’d already wasted four weeks and had nothing to show for it. The women in this little Southern town were in love with him, but all for the wrong reasons.
“You’ve calmed down?” Dionysus’s stupid question got his hackles up again, but Triton needed his advice, and if he wanted to go back home, he’d be better off without another outburst. He reigned in his anger.
“Fine. We need a strategy. A completely different approach,” Triton mused.
“I could rearrange your face, make you look a little less attractive.”
“You touch my face, I’ll rearrange other parts of your body, and you’ll be singing in the boy' choir ever after.”
In a protective move, Dionysus’ hand instantly went to his crotch. “It was a suggestion. Ever heard of brainstorming? I’m just throwing out ideas. You’ve gotten way too touchy in the last few weeks. We’d better be getting you home before you piss somebody off and start World War III.” He took a sip from his glass. “Have you tried older women? Maybe a widow, somebody with a recent loss. We could check the obituaries. Or you could ask Hermes to let you know what husbands he’s recently ferried over Styx,” Dionysus suggested.
“Morbid.” His one-word dismissal was met with a shrug.
“Young ones then. A high school girl.”
“You mean the ones who drool over boy bands and movie stars?” Triton raised an eyebrow in mock interest.
“Ah, I see your point.” Dionysus hummed to himself. “Maybe...” He raised his finger then dismissed his idea. “No. Maybe not.”
Triton emptied his glass and looked around for the waitress, but she was nowhere to be seen. He waved his empty glass toward the bar where the bartender—the same one who’d worked the night he’d met Sophia here—was cleaning glasses. The bartender nodded and poured another glass.
“Heavy on the drinking this early in the day?”
Dionysus was one to talk. What did it matter that it was still midday? “Hey, I need to wind down a little. The last four weeks have been grueling.”
“Yeah, sleeping with a different woman every night sounds pretty grueling to me.”
Triton glared at him. “I haven’t had sex with any woman in the last four weeks.”
The shocked look on his friend’s face was priceless and almost worth the agony of the last few weeks.
“No wonder you’re on the edge.”
Since the first night when Sophia hadn’t even tried to get to know him, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. He’d lost all interest in other women and hadn’t bedded a single one of them. And offers had been aplenty.
But all Triton could think of was Sophia’s intoxicating smell, her lithe body, and the softness of her silken hair. And those beautiful green eyes that had widened, then softened later as her interest had turned to arousal, at the same time that his blood had shot to his cock in anticipation of plunging into her.
He’d never felt this turned on that quickly. Not with a mortal, nor a goddess. If only it had been a little darker in the club and she hadn’t been able to make out his features that clearly, maybe she wouldn’t have immediately formed her—flawed—opinion of him.
Just thinking of her now made his shaft swell to uncomfortable proportions. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d found relief at his own hand, imagining her in front of him, naked, her skin glistening, her lips moist from his kisses.
> “You had the cabernet, right?” the bartender’s voice interrupted his musings. He hadn’t noticed the guy approach. “Sorry, Clarice is on a break.” He placed a fresh glass in front of Triton.
“Thanks.” Triton took the glass and looked at Dionysus who still had a bemused look on his face.
“I've seen you in here a few times now,” the bartender went on, “I guess you scored with Francesca's friend that night, right? I saw you guys leaving together. Is Sophia better?”
Triton raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean by better?”
“After her accident. Her friend came in here a couple of weeks ago and mentioned it.”
“Accident,” Triton echoed as a sharp pain spread in his solar plexus. He pressed his hand against his breastbone. Dark blotches appeared in front of his eyes, and he shut them. His breath rushed out of his lungs.
“Triton?” Dionysus’ voice penetrated. “What’s wrong?”
Triton forced his eyes open. “Sophia. She needs me.” But the truth was, he needed her, and he couldn’t explain why.
Chapter Seven
Sophia had never liked hospitals. After being confined to one for four weeks, she liked them even less. She’d been lucky: the fall could have broken her neck. Instead, she’d gotten away with several broken bones, a concussion, and two detached retinas.
The trauma of the fall and her head hitting the marble floor at the base of the stairs had caused her retinas to detach from her eyes, leading to virtual blindness. The ophthalmologist had reattached both retinas in two operations, and now the waiting game started.
“Your left eye is healing well,” Dr. Zimmerman said from beside her hospital bed.
She moved her head, but her vision was just as blurred as it had been a week ago after the second operation. With her left eye, she could make out shapes and colors but couldn’t recognize any faces. Everything was distorted, as if she were looking though a three inch-thick glass brick.