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

way to protect her. He'd die before he let Nemesis touch her.

As soon as she was in the hall, he transitioned into a patch of fog, and followed her.

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Chapter Twelve

Her eyes burning with unshed tears, Maia stumbled out of Eric's posh condo, into his posh elevator, and out of the posh lobby. She half expected him to materialize behind her at some point.

After all, wasn't that what gods did?

She let a bitter laugh explode from her as she hailed a cab. And then she looked down at herself and wanted to cry. She'd poured herself back into Sheila's ridiculous dress, but it was askew. Her shawl was tossed over her shoulders, as graceful as a deflated balloon, and she'd stuffed her underwear into her little evening bag. The silk panties were sticking out of the bag, taunting her. She could only imagine what her face and hair looked like.

Walk of shame, indeed.

Somehow, without even remembering doing it, she got into a cab and gave the directions to her apartment. She relaxed into the cab's worn upholstery and stared straight ahead, thanking her lucky stars the whole time she didn't have a chatty cabbie.

He'd said he was a god. And not even just any old god. Eryx. Her god.

The one she'd always loved.

Who did that sort of thing? Why would he do it to her?

Maybe he'd heard about her strange obsession before he came to the museum. Maybe something in her had made him want to tease her. Maybe Eric Lord was just a mean, shitty son of a bitch who got off on making women love him and then breaking their hearts. Using their weaknesses against them.

It seemed the most plausible explanation.

But did she love him?

The cab rounded a corner, and Maia looked out the side window, aching for something to distract her from her train of thought. It was no use. Some fog had gathered, obscuring much of the view. While the fog seemed to wrap itself around the back half of the cab, like a favorite blanket, she felt comfortable letting her guard down and closed her eyes.

Did she love him? It was impossible. Sure, they worked together, had spoken dozens of times, but the gala had been their first official real date. Unless one didn't count the night he'd almost made love to her in her apartment. But he'd come with her to her dad's hospice. Had talked to her like he really cared. As if he was actually interested in her responses.

And those kisses...

Her heart hammered in her chest as she even considered being in love with Eric Lord. He'd caught her when she was pushed on those steps. And he hadn't sent the Eryx statue to Russia after all. Surely he couldn't be as dastardly as she imagined.

Maia remembered how he touched her in his condo. How he'd caressed her in front of his mirror. Moisture pooled between her legs again as she remembered watching his fingers slide inside her.

He'd kept telling her she was beautiful. And delicious. And she'd believed him.

She swallowed, once again consumed by Eric's heat, even without him there. She turned to the cabbie. “Do you mind if I crack a window open?"

"Sure thing, miss."

The night air blew against her face as some of the fog seemed to drift into the cab. The warm breeze caressed her, enveloped her. Without knowing why, she smiled. Despite the fog, it was a beautiful night. Warm and suddenly sultry, like him.

She closed her eyes as she soaked up the breeze. Eric had called her his beloved. Why would he say something like that if he didn't at least care about her?

The way he'd made love to her was unlike anything she'd ever felt. His strength, his heat, his passion had raised her up. Taken her outside herself. It was the closest she'd ever come to feeling anything remotely religious in her life.

Total ecstasy.

"That'll be $14.50, miss."

Maia's head popped up as she was startled out of her little daydream. She scrambled for her money, tossing a twenty into the man's hands, and darted out of the cab.

"Hey, thanks,” the man said. He poked his head out of the window to smile at her. “You okay, miss? You look a little sick."

But Maia didn't hear him. She'd already turned and was headed into her building. Eager to escape the night, the strangely seductive fog, and anything that reminded her of Eric.

"I knew I'd see you again soon,” Jim said to his daughter, smiling.

Maia made a face at him. “Of course, Dad. Did you think I wouldn't come back?"

"I thought you might be a little afraid to come back."

It was true. She'd been terrified his recovery was some sort of crazy hoax or a temporary burst of energy. She sat at the edge of his bed and asked the question she was afraid to ask. “How are you?"

He wiggled under the sheets. “Still moving. Still talking. So, I'm bloody marvelous."

"I still can't believe... God, it must be a miracle."

"Yup. A gift from your friend ... Eric."

Eric. Maia picked at the tiny balls of fluff on the hospital sheets and tried to avoid the pointed look in Jim's eyes. It had been a week since she'd seen Eric. If he had been at the museum she hadn't seen him, and Sarah had said something about out-of-town meetings.

Maia had never felt lonelier in her life. Dino and Sheila tried to take her out at night, but she refused. She wouldn't answer their questions about what happened after the gala, and after a couple of days, they stopped asking.

And yet, oddly enough, she felt the whole time as if he were somehow near. She'd spent the better part of the week looking over her shoulder, feeling his eyes on her.

She couldn't forget him. The way he held her, the way their bodies seemed so perfect for each other. It was killing her not to beg Sarah for a contact number.

But she couldn't. He'd