A Taste of Greek (Out of Olympus #3) by Tina Folsom, Cynthia Cooke Page A

something, to scream and yell, to stomp her feet. Instead, she collapsed into her chair.
    Hermes’ card was sitting on top of her desk, staring at her. She picked it up and stared back at it. Hearing his warm, sexy voice right now was exactly what she needed to take her mind off her father, and the fact that even though her boss had claimed she was rooting for her, she’d already made her decision.
    Michelle and Kenton were having an affair. Right under her nose, two doors down the hall. And because of it, Kenton was going to get tenure instead of her.
    She had only one chance to make this right, and it was a slim one at best. And maybe a man who spoke Ancient Greek could somehow help her after all. Maybe he was simply eccentric—that didn’t automatically mean that he was crazy. She shook off a shiver and picked up the phone. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
     

7
     
    Hermes sank to the bottom of the murky river. The strong current rushed over him, stinging his eyes, filling his mouth, and pulling him swiftly downstream. Shock and fury barraged his system, pounding at him like a heavyweight champion. How dare Hades? He’d been there to help the old buzzard, and this was his thanks? Rage scourged his insides.
    He could tell by the curvature of the rock-hewn walls, polished by time to a smooth glassy surface, which part of the River Styx he was in. He was circling the endless loop portion that meandered round and round the underworld. On its banks, anguished souls waited for their admittance. The impatient ones had waded into the river, thinking they could cross on their own, unaware of its strong current and its depth. Those souls surrounded him now, grasping onto him, their eyes pleading, their bony fingers searching, pulling. The echoes of their despair beat against him like thrumming sound waves, or the frantic flapping of butterfly wings.
    He found a rocky outcropping and pulled himself halfway out of the water. He looked around him, contemplating what he should do next: go back and reason with Hades or get the hell out of there?
    His cell phone suddenly rang. He pulled it from his pocket, almost dropping it into the water when a desperate soul yanked at his arm to pull himself above the water. When he saw the number, a Charleston number, he pushed the poor sod off him and answered it.
    “Yes?”
    “I’m sorry to call so late,” the sweetest of voices said: Penny. Penny was calling him! And so soon after their first date. That was good news indeed. Clearly, his kiss had done the trick.
    He instantly recalled the taste of her lips and the feel of her body’s lush curves. Somehow, after one dinner and a couple of sweet kisses, she’d managed to get under his skin.
    “I’m sorry I had to rush off tonight to get some work done, without telling you how much I enjoyed our dinner together.”
    Was she really saying this to him? Or was he hallucinating? Despite the fact that he was still in the bowels of the underworld, he felt as if he were floating on a cloud over Olympus. Penny had the hots for him! Why else would she call him so soon after their date? If he’d been the one doing that, he would have sounded desperate, but Penny calling him was, well, delightful.
    “Me, too. I had a wonderful time.”
    “Listen, I wanted to make it up to you for cutting our evening short.”
    Hermes swallowed hard, his cock rising simultaneously, despite the frigid water covering his lower half. Was this a booty call? Fuck, yeah! Penny was inviting him to come to her house and her bed. However, before he could form a single word to respond to her, a scream nearly pierced his eardrum, as another soul slammed against one of the treacherous rocks ahead of him.
    “What was that?” Penny asked, her voice panicked. “Are you okay?”
    “Oh, nothing.” He searched for an explanation. “The TV. Sorry.”
    “Oh, I didn’t want to disturb.”
    “No, no, you’re not disturbing at all,” he hastened to assure her.