For The Love Of A God

For The Love Of A God by Rosanna Leo Page B

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Authors: Rosanna Leo
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father to talk to ... or a mother.
    She stood up and brushed off the seat of her capris. “Go home,” she whispered. “It'll all seem better in the morning."
    Maia was about to step down when she felt a huge push on her back. With horror, she realized she was tumbling down the stone steps and could very well crack her head on the bottom. She threw her arms out, trying to brace herself. Holly Hobby flew up into the sky, and Maia seemed to fly past each step in slow motion. Unable to help herself, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for her brains to smash on the sidewalk.
    Out of nowhere, Eric appeared. And caught her.
    She collapsed into his strong arms, and slowly stared up into his face. Time felt frozen, stuck, as she gazed upon his unearthly beauty. He looked so much like the Eryx of her dreams. So tantalizingly familiar.
    And he was giving her the steamy look Dino had described. The one that made her skin sizzle in anticipation.
    She should jump out of his arms. Now. But she couldn't. He was too damn tall.
    Plus, she didn't want to move.
    His head lowered toward hers. He wet his lips and then parted them. She could feel his breath on her face. It was hot and sweet and made her think of running naked through a Grecian meadow.
    His arms tightened around her legs and back, and then he kissed her. God, he was kissing her again!
    As his lips touched hers, her eyes fluttered closed, completely unable to withstand the delicious barrage on her senses. She wound her arms around him, feeling the strength in his neck and shoulders.
    When his tongue touched hers, she saw a flash before her closed eyes. An image appeared. One of her clad in Grecian clothing, her hair long and braided. And Eric was there, too. Nude, tanned, eager. Laying her down on a cold mosaic floor, lifting her skirt, and spreading her legs.
    In the vision, he was Eryx.
    With a start, she pulled away and shimmied out of his arms. He was breathing heavily and touching his mouth, seemingly unable to meet her eyes. When he finally did look up, the longing still there, he spoke in a hushed voice. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."
    "You know,” she said, suddenly angered, “you need to stop kissing me and then apologizing for it. You're gonna give a girl a complex."
    "Maia..."
    "Look, it's okay. I mean, thank you,” she stammered. “Thank you for catching me."
    They stood awkwardly, staring heatedly at each other, not moving until Maia's cell phone rang in her bag. Feeling foolish, she excused herself and answered the phone.
    Eric watched as she took the call, watching her face change as he knew it would. Without even asking, he knew it was the hospice calling. About her father.
    "What? That's impossible,” she whispered into the phone. “Are you sure? And the doctor's already seen him? Of course I'll come! Right away.” She dropped the phone into her bag and looked up at Eric, dumbfounded. “I have to go. My ... my father..."
    "What's wrong with him?"
    "He's in the final stages of MS. In a hospice. He's paralyzed and can't talk, but the nurse just said...” She trailed off, in shock.
    "Let me take you,” he said. “You're in no shape to be alone."
    Maia did not argue as he led her to a posh red car. She let Eric help, let him take her things, and put them in the backseat. She even let him buckle her into the passenger seat, which indulged the queer sense of protectiveness he felt for her.
    He stopped for a moment, standing with one hand on the car door. Scanning the area around the museum. Looking for a threat.
    Looking for an invisible enemy.
    Nemesis stared after Eryx and the conservator, safely ensconced in her hiding place inside the museum entrance. Her blue eyes narrowed as she contemplated what she'd seen.
    He'd kissed her. There was no mistaking it. But did he love her? That made all the difference in the world.
    Eryx had had many women over the years. Most of them in the company of wretched Dionysus, the one who had never been able to keep his

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