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

And as he turned her away from Dino and Sheila, he whispered in her ear, “My place."

He spirited her away before she even had a chance to shoot her drooling friends a look which said, “Pray for me!"

Although she barely had the sense to notice anything more as they left the gala, she did take note of one strange thing. Sarah's date had turned to them, watching them as carefully as a new mother would watch her child on the playground. The gorgeous man followed them to the door and turned around to survey the ballroom.

The last thing Maia would recall about the gala was the man standing there, arms at his side, peering at the other guests through suspicious dark eyes. Looking very much like a bouncer.

In her disguise, Nemesis sidled up to the bar and decided she'd had enough fun for the night. She might as well hang out at the pitiful excuse for a gala and drink her cares away.

After all, she'd found out what she needed to know.

Anyone with half a brain could see Eric was smitten with the Douglas whore. The way he'd looked at her when Jeremy groped her was nothing short of anguished. Nemesis had never seen anything like it. Not even after she put his boring priestess out of her misery.

He loved her. It was as clear as the green of his eyes and just as deep.

She knew hexing Jeremy would produce results. The man had already been so drunk over his wife. All Nemesis had to do was plant a little suggestion in his ear. She'd suspected once Eric heard about the mauling he'd come running.

And he hadn't disappointed her.

So. He loved Maia Douglas.

Nemesis touched one of the beautiful orchid arrangements on the bar. The flower was so delicate and pale. Like Maia's throat. But upon her touching it, the orchid wilted and died. As the brownish remains fell into her open palm, Nemesis crushed them.

She knew what she had to do now.

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Chapter Eleven

"So, this is your place.” Maia entered the posh Bloor Street penthouse and dropped her shawl onto a white leather couch. And then she picked it up again, because her tatty shawl looked ridiculous next to the exquisite Italian leather.

Eric closed and locked the door, leaned back on it, and regarded her. Eyes slowly raking up and down the length of her gown. Saying fuck all, pardon her French.

Shit, thought Maia. What do I do? George, the skinny archaeologist, had never looked so hungrily at her. In fact, George had looked as if he never ate at all. Certainly, his looks had never made her shake. In fact intercourse with him had barely made her shake. And now she had the distinct impression the next few moments with Eric Lord would rock her world.

Would they finally have sex? He certainly looked as if that was the plan.

And as much as she was ready to beg for it, it was also a little scary. What if she disappointed him? Man, these intense types freaked her out. She was right out of the old comfort zone on this one.

She looked around, eager to move out of his hawklike line of sight. She touched a framed print on the wall, a beautiful mythological scene. “Nice. Apollo and Artemis. The twins."

Eric let out a strange laugh. “Yeah. Personal friends of mine."

What was wrong with him? Now, he was loopy instead of sullen.

Sure, she knew he'd had a little to drink, but the ride home had been little less than tortuous. Thank goodness Eric had had the sense to rent a limo. But once they were in the car, he'd barely said a word. And he hadn't touched her once, even though it was the perfect opportunity to get the party started. Instead, he'd just stared at her with a tormented face, as if he was a lost sailor and she was the siren swooping in to catch him in her deadly talons. His expressions had fluctuated between keen desire and what seemed to be an even keener desire to toss her out through the sun roof.

And now, even though he appeared to be in his sex-up mode again, Maia couldn't help feeling a little deflated.

Was he so reluctant to screw her that he was afraid to begin? Was he just going to stare at her all night long?

She ran a frustrated hand over her fake Veronica Lake waves. “Look,” she said quietly. “Thanks for what you did tonight. I should go home. I'll hail a cab."

There was a flash and he was at her side. Whoa! How did he move so quickly? Maia felt her head spin, and mentally counted the lime daiquiris Dino had plied her with at the gala.

"No. Don't go.” He was at her side, staring down at her bare shoulder, looking as if he couldn't let her leave.

It was her turn to let out a crazy-person laugh. “Why, Eric? We're clearly not good for each other. I've never considered myself to be an insecure person, but with you I'm a mess. I've never felt so alive yet so unworthy in my life. Nothing adds up, and yet I'm unable to stop thinking of you. And you're obviously not happy with me."

"That's not true."

She looked up at him. “Then, why am I here? You don't look like you want me here."

"It's not that.” He picked up a piece of her hair and rolled it between his fingers. “I want you more than you know. But after what happened tonight..."

"Jeremy? Forget him. I already have."

"He could have hurt you. I can't handle the thought of someone hurting you."

She placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling his heat through the tux jacket, feeling a little better with his admission. “I'm with you. Who could hurt me now?"

He rested his forehead against hers. “Oh, Maia. There are things about me you don't know. Things which have kept me away, when all I've wanted to