by Folsom, Tina
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 into 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.