For The Love Of A God by Rosanna Leo (ebook reader for comics .txt) 📕

He gave her a little, intimate smile, making her knees knock. “Come on, beautiful.” He took her hand and squeezed. “I'm going to want at least one dance with you before I have to start wrestling the other men off you."

She blushed so hard, she was sure she resembled her elderly Aunt Hilda that time she figured out the latch on her dad's liquor cabinet. She let him lead her out the door. And when she heard him muttering, more to himself than to her, her blush deepened.

He was saying something about trying not to kill any man who even looked at her.

Yup, Eric decided upon entering the gala with Maia. He was going to kill someone tonight.

He scanned the area. The banquet room was beautifully decorated. Between the orchids and fairy lights and sumptuous furnishings, Eric knew he should probably be paying his respects to the organizers. But he didn't care about all of that, even if he was the big cheese here and was expected to mingle and schmooze.

Because they hadn't been in the banquet room for more than five minutes before Eric spotted at least ten men he wanted to beat to a fine pulp. To pummel with his bare hands.

His date was creating quite the stir.

Of course, most people associated with the museum knew Maia or her father. None had ever seen her look like this, apparently. Their newfound appreciation was a little too evident for his liking. He'd seen several young, as well as old, men from the staff ogling her, their eyes wide with unexpected lust.

It was making his blood boil.

He couldn't keep himself from glaring at a handsome member of the board—Jeremy something-or-other—as he pulled Maia aside and chatted her up. While looking as if he wanted to eat her up.

Eric reached for her arm again, a little too caveman-style, and she turned to him with a questioning look. He didn't care. No one would be eating her up tonight.

Except him.

Shit, he thought. Why had he even invited her to this shindig? He was supposed to be leaving her alone. For her benefit, as well as his. What if Nemesis decided to make another appearance?

Or, even worse, what if Eric forgot himself again and took a sip of champagne? He couldn't bear the thought he could mistreat Maia, that he might hurt her. She'd be better off with that schmuck Jeremy.

The problem was she made him feel protective. Too protective. Possessive. As much as he knew he was no good for her, in any way, he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else being with her either.

So, he'd demanded she join him tonight. His godlike impulses be damned.

But the sight of other men dribbling all over her was killing him as effectively as a sharp Spartan pike through the heart.

The band began a Spandau Ballet cover. Perfect. Eric reached for her hand and yanked her away from the slobbering Jeremy. “My turn."

She waved at the board member as Eric dragged her onto the dance floor and enfolded her in a tight grasp. He tried to steady his breathing, but it was no good. Just about defeated, he buried his head in her neck. She smelled so good. Some new perfume which went straight to his head and made his balls tighten in anticipation.

"Hey, you can let go a little,” she joked, whispering into his lapel. “I won't fall down. Even though these heels are clearly an instrument of torture and meant to destroy lesser women like me."

He held her even tighter. Lesser women. Impossible.

"Eric, are you okay?” She looked up at him, concerned. He was so pale.

"I'm fine,” he responded, his voice constricted.

"You don't look fine. Aren't you having a nice time?"

"Yeah,” he lied. “Awesome.” It was fucking torture, was what it was. Seeing her in a sexy dress and not being able to do anything about it. Gods, he'd never wanted to make love to anyone like this.

She made a little noise of uncertainty. “Hmm. I think you're lying."

He raised his head to look at her. And tried hard not to kiss her when he glimpsed the innocence in her dark eyes. “Lying?"

"I think you're miserable.” Her red lips parted in a small smile. “I think these functions make you as miserable as they make me. Only you're the boss, so you have to be on all the time. That's got to be hard."

"You're partly right."

"I knew it."

"But you're partly wrong, too.” He stared at her for what seemed to be the longest time. And then he bent his head to her ear and whispered, “Maia, I am miserable. Miserable because I don't want to be here. What I really want is to take you home to my place. I want to slide you out of that hot little excuse for a dress, and I want to lay you on my bed. And, more than anything, I want to finish what I started the other night."

She just stared at him, apparently unable to respond. There was an uncomfortable hitch in her breathing, as if she were trying hard to regulate it. She sagged into his arms, evidently winded by his suggestive declaration, so he held her tight to his chest.

He gazed into her eyes, feeling such desire, but such regret. “But I can't. And so, I'm completely and utterly miserable right now."

Her eyes lowered, unfocused, as she peered at a spot on his lapel. “Oh."

"Have I shocked you?” he asked as they danced, moving his thigh between her softer thighs.

"Yeah. You have since day one,” she blurted out. “But I have a question."

"Hmm,” he murmured into her neck. He let his hand trail down her lower back, seeking, until his middle finger came to rest over the sweet divide of her ass.

"Why can't you ... you know, do what you want?"

"It's a little complicated. It's just better for you if we don't have a repeat of the other night. Trust me on this, Maia.” He couldn't let Nemesis hurt