For the Love of Hades (Loves of Olympus 2)

He saw her swallow, heard her whisper, “I do not mind… Truly.”

Her eyes held him. His body responded even as confusion plagued him once more. What did she want from him? Why did she torment him so?

Her fingers were cool upon his forehead, soft as silk. Her wrist, the inside of her arm, was lightly fragrant.

She moved suddenly, swaying, pressing the curves of her chest against him. He shuddered, completely unprepared for the touch of her full lips upon his.

By the Fates, she was warm and lush.

He could not bear it. But he must. His hands fisted, denying the urge to pull her to him. He closed his eyes. He would not catch her hair in his hands, or clasp her curves to him. His hands throbbed, clenched tightly.

But his lips would not be denied. They fitted to hers briefly, hungrily tasting her.

How she threatened his control, enticing him mercilessly. He could not give in to this temptation. But her words were as sweet a torture as her kiss.

“Oh Hades, I do not mind.”

Her head rested upon his chest, her hair brushing his nose. Her scent filled his nostrils, lilies, earth, and sun, inflaming him. He must hold himself still, keep his eyes pressed shut. One look into her eyes would defeat him. He would not be able to set her away from him.

But now, in this moment, he could think of nothing more than the sweetness of her against him. He was not strong enough. His hands lifted to cup her head, to press her lips to his once more. He drew in a ragged breath and opened his eyes.

But before he could touch her, she ran from him, a flash of white and copper in the moon’s rays. His hands gripped only air and then his chest. He breathed out slowly.

He should not feel such things.

He watched her go, aching yet angry. None could compete with her grace, her charm and femininity. He could not keep the smile from his lips as he watched her disappear into the still night.

He must not see her, ever again.

If he’d never stumbled upon her, it would not trouble him to know he must see no more of her. How he wished he’d never seen her.

He sighed, staring at the flower she’d given him. He should crumple it, throw it down and leave it. He smoothed the petal and stem of the flower, tucking the white lily into the clasp of his chlamys with care.

“You’ve lived too long alone, Hades.” A voice spoke, amused.

Hades spun, alert and ready. Was this a trap, then? Had she played a part in it?

Hermes stood at a distance, his arms held up in submission.

Did he dare feel relief that it was Hermes who’d come upon him? If it had been Ares or Apollo or Poseidon who had found them so… Self-loathing found him, raging within him. No, he would spare her that.

Hades ran a hand over his face, releasing his pent-up frustration with a low growl.

“Surely that was not the fair Persephone, pressing kisses on your dour face?” Hermes joined him. “It is said that the night can fool the eyes. I’ve laughed at such a claim many times. But now I wonder, is there truth in it?”

Hades cast a sidelong look at Hermes. To be discovered in such a state of admiration was disconcerting. To be discovered in such a state by the Gods’ messenger, a devoted gossip, was another matter altogether. He would try. “If I said there was truth in it, would this night be forgotten?”

Hermes shook his head. “I fear I could not forget such a tableau, my friend.” His words were a mix of humor and sympathy. “I am overcome.”

Hades’ words were a hard whisper. “You are overcome?”

Hermes laughed. “Less than you, of course.”

Hades shook his head. Would Hermes goad him? Tease him? Reveal this… this interlude to Olympus?

“You care for her?” Hermes asked, no longer teasing.

Hades laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. He had no heart, it had been crushed so long ago he scarce remembered it. “How can I?”