by Tina Folsom
“Says Mr. No Commitment. I wonder what you’d say if you were in my shoes.”
Triton gave a dry laugh. “Put a sock in it. I’m going to have to romance this woman for a week or even two and get her to fall in love with me. It’s going to be pure torture.”
Pure torture, indeed. Already now, he could barely banish her from his mind. Last night, the anticipation of being with her today had made mincemeat of his efforts to get a good night’s sleep. His body had throbbed with need just thinking of her lush curves, her smooth skin, and her intoxicating scent. And inside his chest a longing to be near her emerged, but he ignored the strange feeling and concentrated on his desire for her instead.
If he didn’t get his hands on her soon, and his hard staff submerged in her heat, he’d burst into flames hotter than Hades. The lust that gripped him whenever he thought of her had put his cock into a permanent state of semi-hardness only to surge fully erect whenever his mind lingered on her for longer than five seconds. Well, his five seconds were up—again.
“There.”
Triton followed Dionysus’ outstretched arm, which was pointing at a person walking toward Sophia’s house.
“Showtime,” Triton announced and moved.
Dionysus’ held him back by his arm. “All bets are off.”
“You can’t back out now. You promised.”
Dionysus gave him a disgusted look. “I know what I promised. But that didn’t include this.” He gestured toward the person, who now stood at the door and rang the bell. “That, that is a man.”
Triton shrugged. “So? Use your imagination.”
“And do what?”
“What you do best.”
Dionysus shook his head. “No way. I’m not going there, not even for you.”
Triton grabbed his friend’s arm and dragged him toward the house. “Just take him drinking, how hard is that?”
A nervous laugh left his friend’s chest. “Drinking? Sure, yeah, of course, you’re right.”
Triton gave him an inquisitive stare. “What were you thinking?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
A moment later they reached the door, and Dionysus patted the man on the shoulder. When he turned, Triton looked into the face of a man in his early thirties, attractive, but not overly handsome. His skin was the color of milk chocolate and his eyes were a mixture of grey and blue.
“Excuse us,” Triton started, “are you here to see Sophia Baker?”
The man nodded. “Yes, the agency sent me.”
“Ah, yes, there’s been a slight change of plans,” Dionysus took over the conversation.
Triton watched how his friend looked into the healthcare worker’s eyes and used his hypnotic powers. A few seconds later, he put his hand on the man’s shoulder and led him away.
Triton had no time to collect his thoughts when the door suddenly opened.
The short man wiping his paint-stained hands on his equally dirty pants glanced up at him.
“I s’pose you’re not the electrician,” he stated matter-of-factly.
Triton cleared his throat, glad to have a few more minutes before he’d see Sophia again. He needed a few moments longer to get his thumping heart under control. Why it beat like a jackhammer was anybody’s guess.
“I’m here to see Miss Baker, Sophia Baker?”
The worker jerked his thumb toward the stairs behind him. “Saw her in the kitchen.”
Triton started past the man.
“Wouldn’t go up there right now, though,” the painter drawled behind him. “She’s not in a good mood.”
Triton raised an eyebrow but didn’t let this information deter him from his intention. But it wouldn’t hurt to have the entire information. “What’s wrong with her?”
The man grinned. “Stubborn filly—doesn’t like it when a man tells her what’s best for her.”
“As if that’s a surprise,” Triton murmured.
He’d already formed his opinion of Sophia the night at the club. The woman was headstrong and opinionated as much as she was beautiful and sexy. And if it weren’t for the latter, well, he wouldn’t even be standing here, would he?
At least he’d eventually get his just reward for putting up with her. And while he knew in his head that his reward was to go home, his body was seeking an entirely different reward—one he was ready to collect instantly if he listened to the stiffness of his shaft.
“I think I might just have what she needs,” he told the worker.
And if she’d let him use it on her, they would get on splendidly.
Chapter Eleven
The voices he heard came from the kitchen: Sophia’s and that of a man. Triton sensed her agitation rise with every word she hurled at the man.
“All you’ve ever done is use us.” The accusation in her voice took drove the pitch higher.
Triton crossed the hallway and stopped at the entrance to the large, modern kitchen. Everything looked brand-new: stainless steel appliances, gleaming cabinets, smooth countertops.
The two didn’t see him immediately, so he took the opportunity to take in the scene. Sophia stood braced against the counter, dressed in a thick terrycloth robe, her hands searching blindly for something in front of her. The man on the other side of the kitchen island was about her age, late twenties, with a dark complexion and brown hair. His eyes shifted back and forth while he watched her, one side of his mouth tilted up in a sneer.
“You and Eleni always conspired against me. I could never do anything right. You were always her favorite. Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, you always did whatever she wanted. Now I know why. So she’d give the house to you, not to me.” The man’s tone was dismissive as if it was a mere fact he was reiterating for the tenth time.
“That’s not how it was. I cared about her, and you never gave a damn.”
Triton recognized the shaking in her voice and knew she was close to tears. The man had recognized it too: a smug grin crossed his features.
Triton wouldn’t let her cry in front of him. He needed her in a good mood and not destroyed by some idiot who was fighting with her about the gods-knew-what. He loudly cleared his throat.
A second later, the man’s glare landed on Triton. Sophia also turned into Triton’s direction, but her eyes only stared blankly.
“Yes?” she asked, the tenseness never leaving her tone. He felt the urge to cross the distance between them and take her into his arms and tell her everything would be all right. But, of course, he couldn’t act on it.
“The agency sent me,” Triton began.
The man gave him a confused look. “What agency?”
“They sent a man?” Sophia asked, nearly drowning out the man’s question.
“That’s your hired help?” the man asked, now louder.
Triton ignored him. He wasn’t answerable to him. Neither was he answerable to her, but with her, he’d make nice. With her, he’d make a lot more than just nice.
Sophia took a tentative step in his direction, her hand never leaving the kitchen counter she used for guidance. Triton met her halfway and accepted her outstretched hand.
“I’m afraid on such short notice, I was all they had,” Triton lied, his voice uncharacteristically dry. He gently squeezed her hand in his palm, not wanting to let go. Her skin was soft and warm. “I hope that won’t be a problem.”
There was a moment’s hesitation, before she responded. “No, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Thank you for—”
“You hired a male nurse?” the man huffed again as he moved closer.
Finally Sophia turned to him. “Not that it’s any of your business, Michael, but yes, I’ve hired a healthcare worker. So, as you can see, you’re not needed.”
Michael’s face flamed at her words. He tossed an angry look at Triton. “She’s changed her mind. She doesn’t need you anymore.”
What made him think he had any right to make decisions for her? For a split second Triton wondered if he could be her boyfriend, or worse her fiancé, bu
t he dismissed the idea instantly. The part of the conversation he’d overheard suggested he was family, and one part of him was relieved that he was not her love interest—another didn’t like the idea that she was being harassed by a hostile family member. And Triton knew a thing or two about hostile family members.
“No, he’s staying,” Sophia insisted.
“Why would you want to pay for something when I’ve offered it for free?” Michael asked, his cheeks even redder than before.
“Because your help is not free! Please leave.”
Triton noticed her hand shaking and put a reassuring hand on her arm.
“You can’t do that. I’m family!” Michael protested.
Family or not, it was time to get rid of the jerk. He was getting Sophia all agitated. “Is this your house, Miss Baker?” Triton asked her, keeping his voice calm.
She nodded. “Yes.”
Triton turned fully to Michael without letting go of Sophia’s hand. “Then I think there’s nothing left here for you to do. Michael, is it? I think it would be better if you left now.”
“You can’t throw me out!” Michael’s eyes bored into Triton, who remained undeterred. If Sophia wanted the man gone, he’d make sure he left the house—one way or another. He frankly didn’t care whether he’d go voluntarily or whether he’d have to throw him out the window. Actually, an exit through the window sounded pretty appropriate right about now.
“No, I can’t,” Triton hedged and nodded his head toward Sophia, “but she can. And given that I’m her employee right now, I’ll just go ahead and execute her orders.” He gave a non-committal smile.
He had the upper hand in this fight, and Michael knew it.
“Please,” Sophia said. “I want you to go, Michael.” She sounded much calmer now, and Triton wondered whether the fact that he was still holding her hand had something to do with it. For sure, he liked the feel of it. He could imagine how her hands would feel on his naked skin, how they would heat his blood.
Michael stalked toward the door.
“This isn’t over. If you think you can cut me out of what’s rightfully mine, watch out.” He underscored his threat with a clenched jaw and an icy look, which Triton was sure was more meant for him than for Sophia, given that Sophia wouldn’t be able to see his facial expression.
A moment later, Michael stormed out. Only when the entrance door slammed seconds later did Sophia’s stiffness crumble. Her shoulders instantly sagged, and Triton instinctively took hold of her arm to give her support.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Maybe I should sit down for a moment.”
“Of course.” He led her out of the kitchen and into the next room, which was furnished as a reception. There was a large sofa at one wall.
“Here you go.” Triton helped her sit and sat down beside her. With regret, he let go of her hand and was surprised at the strange sense of void the action created.
“So, who was this?” Triton asked, barely being able to contain his curiosity.
“Michael? My cousin.”
“Oh, I see.”
“So, the agency sent you?” she picked up on their earlier conversation.
Triton cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Triton.”
Before he could stop himself, he’d blurted out his real name. He almost kicked himself. His plan had been to give a more common name so not to arouse any suspicion, but his plan had gone up in smoke the moment he’d touched her hand. He didn’t want her to scream somebody else’s name when she came in his arms. No, he wanted to hear his own name come over her lips when he thrust into her.
Triton wiped a pearl of sweat off his forehead, realizing with shock how fast this woman could turn him on—and she wasn’t even doing anything.
“Triton? That’s an unusual name. It reminds me of something... Oh, yes, isn’t that the name of a Greek god?” she asked.
Triton swallowed his surprise. Most mortals knew very little about Greek mythology, at least outside Greece. “Yes, uh, my parents named me after a minor Greek god. They were really into mythology and history.”
“Are you Greek? I can hear a little bit of an accent.” Sophia smiled up at him, but her eyes didn’t focus. She could definitely not make out his features, not even at this close distance, otherwise she would by now have realized that they’d met before. After what had happened between them, he was sure she hadn’t forgotten.
“Yes, I’m Greek.” Triton remained tightlipped, not wanting to give too much away. He hadn’t really thought too much about what he’d tell her about himself, so it was better to keep things basic until he figured out what to say,. so he wouldn’t trip himself up later.
“My family too. My mother was Greek.” Why hadn’t he guessed that? Now that he looked at her, he could clearly see her strong Greek features. No wonder he was drawn to her. That explained it.
“Do you speak the language?” Triton asked.
She shook her head. “Unfortunately only the basics. My aunt always insisted on speaking English at home—”
He interrupted, “Your aunt? Didn’t you say your mother was Greek? Didn’t she speak Greek to you?”
Sophia’s smile was solemn. “They were sisters, Eleni and my mother. But my mother died when I was five. My aunt raised Michael and me here in this house.”
***
Sophia let her gaze sweep around the room, trying to take in anything she could see, but it was only shapes and colors. It didn’t matter. What she really needed was to distract herself from the man sitting next to her on the sofa.
All she could tell was that he was tall and of a light complexion. His hair appeared to be blonde. As for his features, she didn’t know whether he was handsome or not.
All she knew was that the mere touch of his hand had first calmed her when she was in the middle of the fight with Michael and then excited her when he hadn’t let go of her. She tried to calm her rapidly beating heart by telling herself that it was what healthcare workers did. They helped handicapped people—how she hated this word—find their way around, and at times this meant they had to touch their patients.
That’s what she was: a patient. And he was her nurse, her very tall, very strong nurse. Her hand had practically been swallowed by his as he’d clasped it. Even though he wasn’t touching her now, she could almost feel the power radiating off him, like a positive aura surrounding him. There was something foreign yet comforting about him, and she attributed it to his origin. Foreign men had always held a certain fascination for her.
“Uhm, we should probably go over your schedule unless the agency has already explained everything,” she stuttered.
“Actually, there was no time. They made it sound very urgent, so I didn’t stop by the office first. Maybe you could just explain what you need,” he offered, his voice apologetic.
“Sure. Well, I guess since I’m an early riser, it would probably be good if you could come early in the morning, maybe around seven thirty?” Sophia asked and hoped he wouldn’t mind. She needed help with breakfast and to have somebody pick clothes out from her closet so she wouldn’t run around looking like a clown.
“Come early? But, I’d already be here anyway.” There was confusion in his tone.
“Here? What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s a live-in position, right?” Triton asked.
Sophia almost choked on her own saliva. She hadn’t thought about it and automatically assumed that whoever helped her would come in the morning and leave in the evening. “Live-in?” How could she have this stranger stay with her at the house when she was all by herself? Especially since he made her heart beat a hundred beats a minute—and that was when he wasn’t touching her.
She felt him turn toward her. “I’m sorry, but I was told this was live-in, and frankly, that’s one of the reasons I accepted it immediately. I’m between apartments right now and don’t have a place to stay. I guess, I could crash on a friend’s couch
for a few nights, but it’ll be a little difficult, and I’d probably not be as well rested to do my job here.”
“Oh.” Sophia instantly felt bad. A twinge of guilt rose in her stomach. Maybe it was customary for healthcare workers to stay with their patients. She hadn’t even asked the agency, but that was her own fault.
Clearly, she had the space. Two of the rooms were already renovated and livable. She occupied one of them, and there was really no reason why he shouldn’t live in the other one. There was no reason to be selfish.
And besides, the agency was reputable and would have screened all their employees, considering they took care of vulnerable people. She shouldn’t have anything to fear from Triton—apart from her own unreasonable attraction to him. Given that she didn’t know what he looked like and could only hear his melodic voice and feel his touch, and yes, smell his purely male scent of salt, sea and sand, she couldn’t explain her attraction to him at all. Salt and sea? Odd. Where had she taken in this scent before?
“Of course,” Sophia quickly said before the silence became uncomfortable. “There’s plenty of room. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it earlier. It’s the most practical thing to do anyway, isn’t it? I’m sure that’s what the agency does all the time, right?”
And why on earth was she babbling like some sixteen year old schoolgirl running into her favorite teen heartthrob?
“Right, it’s customary.” Triton’s voice was calm and collected.
What must he think of her? Maybe he would just write it off to her condition and not give it any further thought. Surely, if he lived here with her for a few weeks until her eyes had healed and she could see again, she would get used to him and not feel this inexplicable nervousness around him.
For once she was glad that she couldn’t read his facial expression—at least it spared her the embarrassment of seeing him cringe at her inept babbling, or worse, give her a pitying look.
“So where do I sleep?”
With that sultry voice you can sleep in my bed.
Sophia pulled herself together and swallowed hard. “Uhm, I, uh … the bedrooms are on the third floor,” she stammered and felt the follicles of her hair turn scarlet. She couldn’t even say the word bedroom around him—how crazy was that?