Peltier’s expression had remained bland when Ian had argued the action would contaminate the water supply. The only time he reacted was when Ms. Cronin leaned over to whisper in his ear. Ian still hadn’t figured out why the assistant was present at the R and D meeting. He’d wanted to leap across the table at her when she’d smirked at his boss’s directive to approve the alternative or seek employment elsewhere.
His gut twisted and his fingers whitened on the steering wheel as he mentally composed his official letter of resignation on the way to dinner.
After inquiring at the hostess stand, he followed the woman to the table at the back of the dimly lit restaurant where Polly was seated. Her shoulders were bared by a halter top, the scarlet shade a beacon for his eyes. The color lit a rosy glow in her cheeks as she smiled up at him.
“Sorry I’m late.” He laid his keys and phone on the table and leaned over to greet her with a kiss. The cling in her soft lips tightened his entire body.
“Your waiter will be right with you,” the hostess announced, holding Ian’s chair out for him.
The girl left as soon as he settled. Ian grasped Polly’s hand, pulled it to his mouth and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “I got called to a late meeting regarding the merger.”
“It’s okay. You’re here now.” She squeezed his hand, her smile lighting up the room.
But what kind of company would he be if he kept worrying about his future employment? He’d have to figure out later how to change Peltier’s mind.
He buried his anxiety in a dark corner of his brain and focused on the beguiling woman in front of him. “So what happened in the world today?”
“Slow news day, I’m afraid. No governments toppled, no widespread outbreak of disease. Not even a single financial institution went belly up.” She chuckled. “I even managed to meet an old friend late this afternoon.”
Her low, husky tone wound through his system like a fine wine, a balm for the frayed nerves from earlier. Her smile soothed his soul.
He relaxed against the cushioned back of his chair, still in possession of her hand. “Sounds like your day went better than mine.”
Leaning forward, she stroked her thumb over his wrist. “Want to tell me about it?”
“Some days you’re the top dog, some days, you’re the bone. Today, I got covered in bone-loving slobber.” He shrugged. “But let’s not talk about work. I’d rather talk about anything else.”
“We could talk about my sister, Callie. She’s been on a tear lately.” Polly frowned.
He’d give anything to eliminate the lines etched into her forehead. “Ah, if only I could create a formula for erasing bad moods.”
“I’m pretty sure the ancient Greeks already did. Called it ambrosia.”
“Or Xanax. Did the Greeks invent that?” he joked.
“What do you think ambrosia is made of?”
The waiter approached and Ian reluctantly released her hand. Polly relaxed in her chair and reached for her water glass. They both ordered wine and while Polly asked for the fish, Ian opted for the pot roast.
“Do you like working at Eos?” Polly asked once the waiter refilled their water glasses and then departed.
“Not so much today.” Ian scrubbed his hands on his thighs. “But that’s work talk again.”
“That’s a fine line. I don’t think of it as work to ask you if you like what you do. I’ll rephrase.” Polly tipped her head to the side. “If you could do anything else in the world, other than be a scientist at Eos, what would you do?”
“Laying on a beach on the Mediterranean Sea is probably not an option, right?”
“If that’s what makes you happy.”
“If you were lying next to me, it would.” He didn’t have to close his eyes to imagine how she’d look in a hot red bikini.
“Okay, I’m in. I’d like a vacation too.” Quiet melancholy colored her voice.
He peered at her. The light of the candle reflected in her eyes, turning the pretty blue color almost violet. “We should go on a trip together. What’s our destination?”
“I loved Corfu when I was there. Or Split, in Croatia.”
“I’m envious. I’ve never traveled outside the US of A.” He’d tried to convince his wife, Marcia, to travel with him when he was trying to save his marriage, but she’d always resisted. Seemed she didn’t want to be separated from her boyfriend for too long. Past history. Spilled milk. Not worth thinking about, given his present company. “Does your work take you to a lot of other countries?”
“Not really. But my parents have lived all over. They’d just pack up us girls and moved us to wherever their fancy took them.”
“I thought you’d always lived in Delphi.”
A shadow flickered over her face as an odd gleam filled her eyes. “They traveled. I meant we traveled a bunch in the summers while we grew up.” She gulped her wine then coughed.
“Okay?” He took the glass from her hand and set it aside.
“Just went down the wrong way,” she wheezed.
The waiter interrupted with their meals and Ian leaned back to allow the man to set the plates on the table.
They dug in and ate in silence for a bit. Ian studied Polly’s face as she chewed. Delight spread over her features as she tasted her fish, then immediately forked up another bite. Her expression mimicked the way he felt when he’d first kissed her. The need to repeat the kiss was enormous. As it was now. He curled his hand into a fist on his thigh and tried to focus on the food on his plate, instead of the sensual manner with which she ate.
Throughout the meal they bantered back and forth about taking a trip together. Ian had nearly choked with laughter when Polly proposed a hike in the Australian Outback, claiming to love hot, arid places and the bugs that came with them.
She laid her fork on the table, pushing her plate away. “I’m stuffed.”
“You have a healthy appetite.” Heat rushed into Ian’s face. “Jeez, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I just mean that most women would eat a leaf or two of their salad, hold the dressing, and claim to be full. I like that you enjoy eating.”
Polly tipped up her chin. “Those women are crazy. And dishonest. They’d just as soon have a big plate of macaroni and cheese, or consume half a cow as eat a salad. They’re lying to themselves if they say otherwise. I never lie to myself.”
“That’s one of my favorite things about you, Polly. If you want that half a cow, you will ask for it.”
“My requests aren’t always that simple.”
“Disagree,” he scoffed. “You are the least complicated woman on the planet. But that could be because we’re friends.”
She tensed in her seat. “That has to be it.”
Why the hell did he keep putting his foot in his mouth? Her posture implied he’d said something wrong. “And, maybe it’s because we are friends, that I feel so comfortable around you that I say the first asinine thing that pops into my mind, instead of all the romantic words dying to escape my mouth.”
“You do utter some boners.”
Blood surged into his dick. God, her just saying the word boner caused him to get hard. He was grateful his napkin was still on his lap. “For which I cannot apologize enough.”
This was so not going to end the way he hoped it might. She was going to get in her own car because he’d been late, and drive away to her house, by herself, and deposit his ass right back in the friend zone. He tapped his fist on his thigh, mentally kicking himself.
Polly rested her hand atop his fist, stilling his action. She smiled gently. “I’m willing to give you a second chance.”
And just like that, his outlook picked up. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I do like you, Ian. Nothing you said so far tonight has dissuaded me of that. You said at the picnic you thought we had something special. And I agree. I’ve wanted you to ask me out on a date for a long time now.”
“Really?’ Jesus Christ, his vocabulary was limited by shock.
/> “Yep. Since that first day you drove up to the Athenian for a business after-hours event in that awful Range Rover.”
“Hey now. Don’t bash the car. I refurbished that lovely while I was in college. It’s been a great car.”
“Ian, it’s baby poop green.” Her laughter was infectious. And she had a point. “But I liked you in spite of the color.”
“If it’s really offensive I guess I could always repaint.” He arched a brow and quirked up a corner of his mouth.
“We can discuss color choice over coffee.” She twisted her fingers together with his on the table. “I have paint swatches at my house. Why don’t you come to my condo for an after dinner drink?”
Chapter 8
Polly’s nerves kicked to life as she drove across town to her home. In the rear view mirror, she tracked Ian’s car behind her. It wasn’t like the boxy antique vehicle in the shade of bright green was difficult to miss.
She’d invited him for coffee. The bold, brazen offer had stunned her as the words slipped from her mouth. Perhaps, as Ian had said, because they’d started as friends it was easier to be so comfortable. But they were taking their relationship to the next level. Was she truly ready?
Well, why the Hades not? There was a good chance she could become a flippin’ bird for the rest of her life. Why not make a memory she could hold onto as she winged her way through eternity. She clicked her signal light on to turn and contemplated whether or not magpies had memories.
She parked in her designated spot. Ian angled the beast he drove into a space on the opposite side of the lot. Leaves in the trees rustled in the gentle breeze and shadows flickered over the pavement. They met at the walkway into her building.
“I’ve never been in these lofts,” he remarked as he faced the brick structure.
“They were converted from an old furniture warehouse. I was lucky enough to score a top floor condo with exposed brick and an open ceiling. Not every loft got that.” She swiped her fob over the security panel. The diode flashed green and the lock disengaged with a sharp click.
Art Deco sconces dotted the foyer with splashes of light. The gray and white marble floor gleamed softly in the reflected glow. Polly led Ian across the foyer to the elevator. The enclosure was a gilded replica of true antique lifts. It reminded Polly of the elevators at the Palmer House in Chicago. Opulent and warm at the same time.
A soft chime filled the air as the doors slid open. Polly stepped in and pressed four. When Ian moved next to her, he grasped her hand and loosely wove their fingers together. He beamed a smile at her. The corners of his eyes crinkled in a most becoming manner. She adored a man with smile lines. It said so much about his character.
“Have you lived here for long?” Ian asked as the lift inched toward the top floor.
“I moved in, let me think…two years ago. I’d been with the station for a couple of years, and finally saved enough money for the down payment.” She shrugged and leaned against the mirrored wall. “Dad offered to buy it outright, and let me pay him back, with interest. But I wanted to establish credit in my name. A private loan wouldn’t have accomplished that.”
Ian tipped his head, his golden brows lifted as he turned to face her. “Have you always been this responsible?”
His easy grin distracted her from the question. For a man, he had a lovely mouth, plump lips in a perfect Cupid’s bow. Her gaze lingered on the lower half of his face. When his smile kicked up a notch, she blinked hard and cast about in her head for his question.
“I’ve…I’ve been managing my finances for a long, long time.” She’d learned a hard lesson after hanging out with Dionysus a little too much. The god of the grape harvest had used Midas for his financial talents, and then gave him donkey ears as a punishment. It had cost her dear as well, and earned her a lecture from Zeus that had lasted a decade.
He tossed his head back and laughed. “You must have started in the cradle then. You don’t look old enough to qualify for a long, long time.”
“Maybe not in this lifetime.” The words slipped out and heat flashed into her face. Goddess, she alluded to the fact that this wasn’t her first lifetime. His presence rattled her more than she’d previously admitted.
“So Hailey was right. You are incarnated.”
“That’s me. Back for a second time.” She seized the out he offered and then changed to a safer topic. “Hailey is a little pistol, isn’t she?”
The elevator finally arrived at the top floor and the doors slid open. Polly exited the car and crossed the square foyer to her condo.
“Bright as a penny,” he agreed as he leaned against the wall and stroked a finger over the fall of her hair. His frown etched lines into his forehead. “The kid said something the other day that inspired an idea for a project I’m working on. It’s the best solution, but my boss insists on pursuing an alternative that offers greater returns.”
“Can you change his mind?” Was this where the challenge led her? It almost seemed too easy. She unlocked the door. The hinges creaked as she opened it.
He shrugged and straightened to follow her inside. “A year ago I might have been able to, but now…I doubt it. Peltier is all about the Benjamins lately.”
Just inside the door, Polly dropped her keys into the basket on the glass-topped table. Of course it couldn’t be easy. An altruistic solution would pale in comparison to an option that made money. She was so out of her depth dealing with Greed. Pierus had guaranteed his reservation in Hades by setting her against the exact opposite of everything she believed.
Ian whistled. “This view is amazing.”
Shaking away her worry, Polly glanced at her home, seeing it through Ian’s eyes.
Floor to ceiling windows set into a wall of exposed brick looked out over the city lights to the hills on the edge of town. The granite façade of the Helios Institute, where Nia worked, glowed white in strategically placed spotlights. The world-renowned planetarium sat on the highest point of the hills. Just a few short weeks ago the grounds had been the site of an epic battle between Nia and Mayhem. The Muses had triumphed, and now two of Pierus’s awful daughters were safely imprisoned in the charmed aviary at Olympus. Their only way out of that cage was if any of the remaining Muses failed at their challenge.
It wasn’t going to be Polly. She squared her shoulders. “Yeah, seeing that at night is truly inspiring.” She crossed the hardwood floors to the gourmet kitchen dominating the east wall of the condo. “Do you want coffee, or something stronger?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a beer, or glass of wine.” He sounded distracted.
She glanced over her shoulder to discover him spinning in a slow circle. The pleased calm on his face told Polly that her decorating goal of relaxing her guests had been effective.
“God, you have so much color in here, but it’s subtle. I don’t know where to look first!” He headed straight to the overstuffed pale rose-colored sofa. He plopped onto the cushions, squirmed for a moment, and sighed loudly.
Polly turned from the sight of his hands stroking slowly over the fabric. Tingling started in her stomach and slid down until it reached the hidden spot between her legs. She wanted his hands moving as reverently on her skin as they did over the cushion. Warmth flooded her system, making her grateful the refrigerator door was open.
She cleared her throat. “Sorry, no beer. You’ll have to settle for wine. I have some baklava left from the picnic yesterday.”
“That stuff was better than sex.”
She straightened from looking at the contents of her fridge and found him standing at the kitchen island, his cheeks scarlet. Without thinking about it first, she quipped, “Seriously? You must be doing it wrong.”
Embarrassment burned up her chest and neck and into her face. She had to be as red as he was at the moment. She put the pastry box on the counter and hung her head, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.
His amused chuckle didn’t help ease her sudden awkwardness. Shoes scuffing on the wood f
loor, he circled the island and came to her side. She pressed her hands on the concrete top, wishing the cool of the stone under her palms would make it to her cheeks. He tucked a finger under her chin and nudged her face up and toward him.
Heat simmered in his gaze as he searched her face. He leaned in and touched his mouth to hers. Desire deepened his voice when he spoke. “I’m willing to let you teach me the right way. Would you like that job?”
She nodded.
He swept the pastry box to the edge of the counter with his forearm. A squeak escaped her when he dug his hands into her hips. When he spun her around, she grasped his arms. The muscles under her fingers bulged as he lifted her to sit on the countertop. The cold under her butt contrasted starkly with the heat of his palms on her thighs as he eased her legs apart. The more pressure he applied, the higher her skirt crept.
Ian slid his hands back to her hips and pulled her forward, until he stood between her legs, only his black trousers and her skimpy thong between them. He swept his fingers up her spine until he reached the base of her neck, and then pulled her closer.
“So beautiful when you blush,” he murmured against her lips.
Their breaths mingled a scant instant before he pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was gentle and sweet, until he pulled her bottom lip between his and sucked, a tantalizing tug she felt at her core. The tingling between her thighs escalated and rippled throughout her body, the sensation delicious in the extreme.
Polly moved her hands higher, gripping his shoulder with one, tangling the other in his hair. The jagged ends felt like silk under her touch. She lifted one leg higher on his waist, hooked it behind his back and pulled him closer. In response, he lowered a hand to her butt and wiggled it between her and the counter. He squeezed just as he prodded his tongue past her lips.
The sweet, lingering kiss took a turn for the passionate, his lips sipping and tugging on hers. When she moaned, the corners of his mouth lifted. He flexed his fingers on her flesh.
Greed: Goddess of Delphi (Goddesses of Delphi Book 3) Page 7