Sons of Zeus: Risky Business

by Amanda McIntyre

  A delicate snort brought Eros upright, his hands perched on each of her perfect butt cheeks. He waited suspecting she'd fallen asleep. Her soft shoulders rose and fell with peaceful slumber.

  He fought the desire to bend down and plant a kiss on her sweet flesh. "Time enough for that," he whispered as he lifted the blanket back over her shoulders careful not to wake her. He set the lulling alarm to awaken her naturally with light in fifteen minutes.

  * * *

  Psyche awoke, at first groggy as to where she was. She had no clue how long she'd been asleep. The lights in the room, dim when she arrived were brighter now. The gentle waterfall sound of water still played on the speakers surrounding her.

  She carefully lifted her head, blinking as she searched the room. Gratefully, she was alone and at least would never have to face the masseuse that she fell asleep on. Every muscle in her body felt rejuvenated, yet she was mentally relaxed. It was one of the single most incredibly wonderful sensations she'd felt in a long time.

  Psyche sat up, drawing the blanket around her as she remembered the soothing low timbered voice and the gentle hands that caressed her body and her mind. The voice left unanswered questions in her mind. While she knew privacy was standard at most spas, she couldn’t shake the feeling she'd heard that voice someplace—

  "Ms. Rainbo? Are you ready for your citrus replenishing drink?"

  A petite woman with dark, straight hair and pale violet eyes peeked into the room and smiled. In her hand she held a frothy pale pink concoction complete with a skewer of fresh orange and lime slices.

  "I feel so decadent." Psyche smiled shyly as she accepted the drink.

  "Did you opt for the full hot oil treatment?" The woman asked as she picked up and rearranged items in the hidden cabinets.

  "Yes, it was wonderful, and that masseuse was incredible."

  "Ginger is one of our best." The woman smiled as she glanced over her shoulder at Psyche.

  Psyche's breath caught in her throat. She supposed it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that a woman would have sensuous, large hands and a voice like dark, smooth whiskey.

  "She has a very strong presence for a woman." Psyche sipped at the drink, hoping to gain some clarity in her reasoning. If nothing else, diplomacy was an attribute she'd honed well over the years in her line of work.

  The young woman chuckled. "I'm doubting that was Ginger, but whoever you had, sounds like they did the job right."

  "I'm back, Ms. Rainbo."

  A high-pitched voice with a distinct southern twang caught Psyche's ear before she saw the woman's face.

  She covered her eyes, sensing from the havoc of butterflies in her gut that this was Ginger. "Ginger?" Psyche squeaked past the constriction in her throat.

  "Yes ma'am. I'm sorry my boss sent me on an errand." She glanced from one woman to the other. "Is something wrong?"

  Psyche hopped off the table and wrapped the blanket tight about her as she scurried behind the ornately painted dressing screen. "I've got to get going. There's a million things I left at work." Goose bumps originating from panic skittered along her naked flash. Psyche tugged on her skirt and tucked in her fuchsia blouse.

  "You must wear what you wore tonight."

  The sound of the mystery man's voice stuck a chord in her brain. Her hands stilled. Could it be him? How would he know she was there?

  Unless he's been following you?

  Psyche's mind raced with a million reprimands for setting herself up for such a dangerous liaison. What if this man was sick mentally? Psyche pressed her fingertips to her temples, massaging the tension pooled there.

  The scent of her mystery man pervaded her senses even now and he was nowhere in sight. Which was also the problem; she'd never actually seen him. A hundred different guys could wear that same cologne.

  Psyche spied the blanket draped at her feet and snatched it up, burying her face in its fibers. She inhaled deeply, trying to detect even the faintest trace of the sexy cologne that had turned her mind to mush that night. Not that his luscious mouth had anything to do with that. The light fragrance of talcum powder was the only scent that lingered in the cotton softness of the blanket.

  "Are you all right, Ms. Rainbo?"

  Psyche glanced up and came face-to-face with Ginger. Ginger, whose voice was as delicate as a spring rain.

  "I'm fine." She grinned and handed her the blanket, knowing she was anything but.

  * * *

  "Call me the instant you have something that you can blackmail her with. I'll keep the boys ready in the media department." Aphrodite's stress over Dr. Rainbo was manifested in the tightness of her voice. "We'll take it out to the public within seconds of your discovery. I'll show this woman that we are not the type to just sit down and let her run roughshod all over us. By the gods, I've worked too damn many years to build this ode to passion, this empire of carnal beauty, to its present success. I'm not about to let a frigid little goody-two shoes steal my thunder."

  Eros cast a bored glance to the ceiling. His mother's tyrannical dissertation beginning to strip away the enjoyment of his fantasy play weekend with Psyche…er, Ms. Rainbo. By all that was on heaven and earth, he'd thought of little else but his flesh touching hers since that afternoon in the spa. Playing spy games with Psyche was the last thing he had on his mind at the moment.

  "I'm leaving my phone at the penthouse, mother. I don’t want to chance her finding it." He lied, but he didn't care. This time, he wanted to handle things his way, not his mother's. "I just called to tell you that I would be out of reach until morning."

  "I thought you were going away with her for the weekend? I have the paparazzi stationed in tents just outside the bungalow, hidden in the forest.

  "How do you expect to get any information overnight? You have to gain her trust; you have to make her believe that she can confide in you. Only then can we squash her like the little cockroach she is."

  Eros frowned into the phone. He'd never seen his mother quite so agitated about the opposition before. What was she really afraid of? Psychedelic Rainbo was no real threat that he could see. Unless there was something more that he hadn't been privy to. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was jealous of Dr. Rainbo.

  "You are going to let me handle this, aren't you?" Eos kept his anger at bay. Most generally, she went her way and he followed dutifully behind. This time, however, he wanted to take the reigns on this assignment.

  "You have everything?" Her voice was short, her tone clipped.

  Eros spied the large bag of costumes and playthings Psyche purchased. He'd chosen not to tell her that Psyche had been in the store and made sure that none of the clerks would reveal anything. In fact, he'd chosen not to tell her much of anything with regard to his weekend plans. That suited him fine.

  "I'll be in touch with you on Monday." The phone was halfway to the cradle and he could still hear his mother's shrill voice.

  "I would prefer a report as early as Saturday morning. You can reach me—"

  Eros pressed the end button on the receiver with a smile.

  Chapter Six

  Eros found himself whistling a carefree tune as he unpacked Psyche's purchases from the store. He'd found one of the attendants of the lodge and with a quick story that he wanted to surprise his girlfriend, was able to get into the bungalow two hours before sunset.

  He'd been impressed when he walked in, wondering how many others Ms. Rainbo had brought here. Her tastes in décor appealed to him, even though they were much earthier in both color and ambience. Rich taupe, brown and cream curtains blended with dark pine woodwork and crimson and gold tapestry floor rugs. Leather and mission style furniture was arranged around a great stone fireplace and he envisioned their bodies entwined on the plush white rug gracing the hearth. As quickly as the vision came, it fled on the heels of her ruling that they only meet in the dark.

  The grocery sack with its succulent aroma of roast chicken wafted him back to reality. He had champagne to chill and straw
berries to prepare for this evenings meal. He considered the fifty dollars he'd given the young man to let him in, worth the effort.

  "Big night planned, eh?" The young man, probably barely out of high school gave him a lop-sided grin.

  "You could say that." Eros struggled with the sacks in his arms.

  "Here let me get that for you." The young man lightened the load in Eros's arms, making it easier to get at his wallet.

  "This good enough?" Eros flipped a folded bill from his wallet.

  "I'll even bring extra towels. You need anything at all, sir, just call the front desk and—"

  "What I want to make sure of is that we are not disturbed, understood?" Eros grinned as he exchanged the bill for the sack. "I'm guessing I can handle just about everything else."

  "You got it Mister. I'll even have them hold the phone calls if you like."

  "That would be perfect."

  Eros glanced at his watch. Five-thirty. She was probably winding down from her day. He picked up the phone, glad to have a dial tone and dialed her office.

  "Dr. Rainbo's office. May I help you?"

  Eros recognized immediately the nasal tone of her secretary. "Is Ms. Rainbo in please?"

  "Yes, may I ask whose calling?"

  "I'm the one who sent her flowers this morning. Did she receive them?"

  There was s short silence and Eros could hear the smile in the woman's response.

  "Yes, she did and they are stunning if I may be so bold." Her laugh tittered in his ear.

  "I like bold women. May I speak to Ms. Rainbo please. And Nancy?"

  "Yes, I mean…how did you know…?"

  "You have a great weekend." Eros sensed the power of his charm working its way through the telephone line.

  Again the bashful laughter sounded and a moment later he was transferred to Psyche's office. She hadn't asked for his name again. Charm was a miraculous tool.

  As he waited, he unpacked the array of clothing from the Aphrodite's Pleasures shopping bag.

  "Dr. Rainbo speaking. How may I help you?"

  Her voice sounded drained. He could hear the weariness behind her attempt at a professional response. "I do hope you are planning a relaxing weekend. You sound like you could use one." Eros laid out the soft white Grecian gown across the bed, and the sexy sheer midnight blue gown next to it. Visions of her pale skin shimmering through the gown molded to her sensuous curves created a stir in Eros gut. He had a twinge of guilt that she'd wasted her money on the clothes, for as little time as he planned for her to wear them.

  Her faint swallow pulled him from his sordid daydreams. "You haven't changed your mind?" Just enough pressure to show interest, not enough to frighten her away. The choice had to be hers and hers alone. "You need this, Doc. You need the time to yourself, to treat yourself like the woman you are." He coaxed her with his soft-spoken voice, seducing her with his charm. Truth was, he fought the idea of panic skating at the back of his brain, afraid that she would back out. And he'd wanted nothing or no one more than her in days, weeks…maybe longer.

  She snorted softly into the phone.

  So much for charm.

  "Which means what, exactly?"

  "Sorry, it's just that you sound like my younger sisters. They didn't put you up to this, did they? Because if they did, boy, I'm really going to be pi—"

  "Psyche. Psyche." He vied for her attention as she ranted about her sister's pressure to date. It was becoming clear that Ms. Rainbo had a lot of people pressuring her to be and do many things, most of which stemmed from what they thought was best for her. What did Psyche want?

  "Do your sisters have baritone voices, then?" He hoped to lighten her mood.

  She giggled.

  Eros held the phone out in mock wonder. She giggled like a schoolgirl.

  "I'm sorry; I meant your voice sounded like, I meant, well—"

  "Psyche. I don't know your family. I don’t care to particularly. I'm interested in you and you alone. What do you want Psyche?" A sudden clarity quickened in his mind and he could see the plight of the older sister. She saw herself as the Ugly Duckling, while her sisters were swans. If they were even marginally close to Psyches beauty, Eros didn’t think he'd be able to stand it. This woman was a goddess, a diamond in the rough perhaps, but a diamond nonetheless. And he would show her just how beautiful she was. When had this game of espionage turned to charity? Eros knew of course that he'd always had a big heart when it came to women, but usually his priority stemmed from his own needs, not that of the woman. How then was it that he wanted more to please her than to please himself? Too many questions to explore at a later time. He had to have her in his arms, and the sooner the better.

  "You don't take much time out for yourself, do you?" He didn't have to wait for her answer. All his life he'd observed competent, ambitious women work themselves into an early grave, most clutching tight to their botox and hair color.

  "I've been busy."

  "Of course, every smart business woman is, but the wise one knows how to wind down and enjoy life and all that it has to offer."

  There was a momentary silence.

  "What can you offer me?"

  Heat, powerful surged through Eros veins, making a beeline for his crotch.

  He had to swallow before he spoke. "You meet me as planned tonight, I'll show you. And don't worry about dinner, I have it planned."

  Psyche dropped the phone in its cradle and sighed, turning her chair to the plate glass window overlooking the broad river, winding its way along the city. When she chose this location for her office, its presence, sure and strong appealed to her in a way she couldn’t explain. There was a power in its longevity, in its tenacity and splendor. Mother nature at its finest.

  What was she doing? Psyche glanced at the bouquet of flowers that had arrived from her mysterious suitor that morning. It's reminder of their rendezvous clear in its card that read, "Later." Shivers ran up her arms again as she heard his voice in her mind. "You need this time, Doc." It was like he knew her. Knew what she needed. But how?

  Her lips pressed together as she picked up the phone and called her mother.

  "Hello Rainbo connection."

  "Cute, mom, this is Psyche."

  "I saw by caller ID. How was your day honey? Would you like to come to dinner tonight? It's just me and your father. You know how crazy the schedules of your sisters are."

  "Well, that’s part of why I'm calling. I have to go away this weekend…on business." She quickly inserted before her mother asked. Not that she probably would.

  "Oh, where do you have to go? I hope it's someplace warm, tropical?"

  "No, not exactly. It's not too far, um, actually it's the cabin."

  "You're having a meeting at the cabin? That sounds like a working vacation."

  The teasing in her mother's voice was evident.

  "Actually, I have to work on a major presentation I'm given at a spring conference. I just need to get away and focus. You know." Psyche hoped her lie would hold up under her mother's scrutiny.

  "We can come up to keep you company if you like? Maybe have dinner at the main lodge?"

  Psyche swallowed the fear of her parents walking in on her and the mystery man playing with her handcuffs.

  "No really mom, I need to buckle down." Psyche closed her eyes, regrouping her thoughts. "It would be better for me to get down to business and—" Vivid images, most of them decidedly erotic danced in her head. They were bigger than any sugarplums she could imagine.

  "It’s okay, Psyche. I get the picture. You want to be left alone to do your thing."

  "Right." Psyche eased back in her chair, not realizing her nails gripped the leather of the chair's arm.

  "Well, it's so beautiful up there. At least try to get out and get some fresh air. Take a walk. You hole yourself up all weekend, what fun is that?"

  Psyches heart beat faster at the possibilities awaiting her.

  "I'll try to have fun mom. Call you later."

  "Okay,
sweetie. Maybe I can get your father to take me to the movies. We haven't had a good make-out session in public in years."

  Psyche grinned. "Just don't get arrested."

  She pulled into the private lane leading up to the cabin. No cars were parked in front or in the drive. Was he there yet? She gathered her keys in her fist, wondering if she should be prepared defensively. After all, here she was a woman alone walking into a secluded cabin with a total stranger. Psyche hesitated; she could talk herself out of this in a heartbeat.

  "This is ridiculous," she muttered dropping the keys in her purse. Chances are, what she'd told her mother would pan out true anyway, when he didn't show.

  She pulled her overnight bag from the trunk, glancing periodically from the dark cabin to the yard surrounding it. Only the wind whistling through the tall pines accompanied her trek to the front porch.

  Psyches' heart thundered in her chest. Both fear and anticipation warred inside of her. There was still time to turn and run—

  Her foot brushed against something in the dusky shadows and she toed it at first to make sure it wasn't a slumbering animal. She peered closer and kneeled down to examine it more closely. There on the mat, lay a beautiful long stemmed rose, its blossoms just beginning to open.

  Psyche inhaled its heady fragrance and allowed the scent to steady her nerves. She looked up and noticed the front door ajar. From inside she could hear soft music, the haunting strains of violin and cello mixed with a seductive piano.

  She pressed open the door, and cautiously placed her bag on the floor inside. Her gaze was drawn to a small candle floating in water bowl, its minimal light flickering softly in the dark. Beside it lay a note. Psyche picked it up, the scent on the paper the distinctive cologne she remembered so vividly from that night in the bookstore.

  "Take this and come to the dining room. Leave everything else and...blow out the candle."

  Chapter Seven

  She picked up the pink satin blindfold, wondering briefly how he'd managed to get in. Her mouth dry, she had to swallow and moisten her lips before she could pucker enough to blow out the candle.