Goddess of Love (Goddess Summoning 5)

Chapter Twenty-Four

"L ittle one, don't cry! Everything will be well. You'll see."

"Get - me - a - Kleenex!" Pea said between sobs, pointing to the bathroom that was attached to the master bedroom.

Vulcan pulled on his jeans and rushed into the bathroom.

Pea took a deep, calming breath and managed to shout, "The little paper cloth things in the pink box!" Like the God of Fire would know a Kleenex if it jumped up and bit him. Vulcan reemerged from the bathroom with the box. He handed it to her, and then he sat on the edge of her bed, watching her as if he expected her to combust at any moment. Pea blew her nose and wiped her eyes. She took another deep breath, which she was pleased to note, only had one little hiccupping sob in it. Then she leveled her gaze on Vict - She gritted her teeth and mentally corrected herself. She leveled her gaze on Vulcan, ancient God of Fire. Quietly, in what she considered a calm and reasonable tone of voice, she spoke.

"Okay. I don't know how you do things on Olympus or under Olympus or wherever. But here, in what Venus and I'm sure you, call the modern mortal world, girlfriends do not fall in love with each other's husbands. Not unless they're very, very stank and quite ho-ish." She sighed at his confused expression. "Just take my word that I'm not stank or ho-ish, nor would I ever want to be. Which means I cannot fall in love with my girlfriend's husband."

Vulcan's smile was slow and sexy. "You love me. You just said you love me."

"Hello! Did you hear the rest of it?"

His grin stayed in place. "Venus and I don't live together as husband and wife. Our marriage was a mutually agreed upon arrangement - one that hasn't worked out particularly as planned for either of us. She didn't lead you to believe she loves me, did she?"

Pea chewed her lip. "No. She said she was married, but that it wasn't like a real marriage."

Vulcan nodded, and didn't look in the least bit upset by his wife's description of their nonmarriage. "And isn't she with another man at this moment?"

"Maybe." Weirdly, she felt like she might be telling on Venus if she said more. Vulcan lifted one brow up. "Maybe?"

"Okay, yes. She's out on a date."

"Which is perfectly fine with me."

"This feels wrong."

Vulcan took her hand again. "Would it feel better if Venus and I agreed to revoke our marriage?"

"I don't know...." Pea shook her head, feeling close to tears again. "This is happening so fast."

"But Pea, little one, we've already talked about that. The speed at which our love is happening is not important. It's the love itself - the connection we feel in our souls - that is important." He leaned forward and cupped her face in his hands. "Look into my eyes. See the truth there. I have existed alone for what you would consider an eternity. Until I glimpsed you through my thread of fire just days ago, I was convinced the only way I could have peace was to become as the ram and Chiron."

Pea's eyes widened. "You were going to die and become a constellation?"

"Yes."

"But you can't! You're immortal."

"So was Chiron, but as with the centaur, I can die if Zeus wills it."

"No!"

Vulcan smiled and caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. "Only now I can't die and retire to the constellations because I've found my home, and it is here with you. If you will have me."

"But your realm - the forge..."

"All problems that can be conquered if you love me."

Pea met his eyes. She knew he was an ancient god, yet somehow that knowledge changed nothing. She hadn't loved his supposed mortal shell. What she'd responded to from the first moment she'd looked into his eyes went beyond the physical and had less to do with mortality than eternity.

"I do love you," she whispered.

"Then we'll figure out everything else. Together."

"Together," she repeated before his lips met hers and she lost herself in the taste and touch, magic and heat of him.

Griffin woke up like he always did - without an alarm clock. Something wasn't right. He glanced at the digital dial of his bedside clock. Five-thirty in the morning. He had to be at the fire station by seven. Plenty of time. Smiling, he turned over, automatically reaching for Venus. Her side of the bed was empty. That's what was wrong. She was gone. He pulled on his boxer shorts. She wasn't in the bathroom. He went to the edge of the loft's balcony and looked down. Relief washed through him when he saw her sitting on the couch staring at his sculpture. Cali Alley Cat was curled up beside her and Venus was absently stroking her. But his relief was short lived. Venus was crying. Silently tears were falling down her cheeks. The windows of his living room were just starting to be lightened with predawn, and Venus was framed in the muted, dovelike colors of early morning. The artist in him responded before the man. Her beauty was extraordinary, especially with the touch of sadness softening her features. She should be painted and sculpted. Poetry and songs should be written about her.

Then the man took over from the artist. She was crying. Had it been him? Had he somehow made her sad? Was she regretting their lovemaking? The thought made him feel sick. Venus was the most incredible woman he'd ever been with and he didn't want her to regret one moment with him. He wanted her to spend the future with him.

The thought shocked him. He'd never seriously considered a future with any of his lovers or girlfriends or whatever they called themselves. Venus was different. She made him feel different. And it wasn't just because she was incredibly beautiful and witty and intelligent and kind. She had that elusive something. Actually they had that elusive something - together. That extra spark that changed friendship to love and lovers to soul mates.

Soul mates? Was that what they were? The idea shook him, but he didn't back away from it. Everything within him was telling him insistently, This is the one! She's mine! The one I've been waiting for!

He grabbed his bathrobe and hurried down the stairs. She didn't notice him until he touched her shoulder, then she jumped and wiped at her eyes hastily. Cali meowed shortly at him, and jumped haughtily off the couch. Little traitor, he thought.

"I didn't mean to startle you." She was wearing the sweater he'd had on last night. It was way too big for her, making her look young and very, very sexy.

"Do you have coffee?" she asked.

He frowned. Did he have coffee? He didn't want to talk about coffee. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her he loved her and that he would fix whatever it was that was making her cry, but her tears threw him off, almost as much as his thoughts of soul mates and futures.

"Yeah, I have coffee," was what he said instead.

"Would you make me some?"

"Yes." Thoroughly confused, he went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. "Do you want a muffin or something to eat?" he called.

"No," she said. "No, thank you."

He ground his teeth together. She was being awfully damn polite. He waited impatiently for enough coffee to brew to fill two cups, and then hurriedly returned to Venus. She was still sitting on the couch, still staring at his sculpture, but she'd stopped crying.

"Is black okay? I have milk and sugar if you want it."

"Thank you, it's fine like this." She took the cup from him and sipped. Griffin sat next to her and, on impulse, leaned over and kissed her softly. "Good morning." He was pleased that she leaned into him and accepted his kiss.

"Good morning," she said.

They drank their coffee in silence until Griffin couldn't stand it any longer. Then he put his cup down and turned to her.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

She sighed. "It's hard for me to put into words."

"Is it me? Did I do something to upset you?"

"No. You've been perfect."

Well, hell. She said it like it was a bad thing. He drew a deep breath and asked the question he dreaded. "Are you sorry about last night?"

"No, of course not!" She finally looked at him. "Last night was wonderful."

He brushed his knuckles across her damp cheek. "Then why are you sitting here crying?"

She looked back at his sculpture. "You were right," she said slowly.

"About?"

"About Venus."

"And that makes you sad?"

She nodded. "It makes me sad because recently I've realized that I have too much in common with her."

"What do you mean?" For some reason her words, or maybe it was the resigned sound of them, made his stomach tense.

"You said that it seemed Venus didn't need a man, which made her untouched and untouchable, which is especially tragic because Venus is Love."

It was his turn to nod.

"I've been like that." She sounded introspective, almost as if she'd forgotten he was there and was simply talking aloud to herself. "I've helped countless others find love. I've been asked over and over again to make their passions and obsessions and desires come true, but when it came to me having those things in my own life..." She moved her shoulders restlessly. "Love has brushed by me, passed over me, gone around me, and sometimes even visited me briefly, but in the end Love moved on without me."

Griffin took her hand, and she turned to face him. Never in his life had he wanted anything as badly as he wanted to make the sadness leave her eyes, and as he tried to figure out what to say to her to make her melancholy better, he realized that his well-guarded freedom from relationships and his avoidance of love in general had been nothing more than empty steps taken in a life only partially lived. He wondered, briefly, if the artist in him hadn't recognized his loneliness long before now - wondered if maybe that was why the subject of most of his art was women...even though commitment and relationships were what he'd avoided so diligently for most of his life.

Griffin realized that he was afraid to say what came next, but he was more afraid of not saying it.

"I've never been married. I've never even been engaged. The truth is I've avoided love as much as you have. After seeing my sisters' and my mother's troubles with it, I thought it was best to just live without the damn emotion."

At the mention of his sisters, Venus's lips tilted up, lightening the sadness in her expression a little. Griffin forged ahead.

"Then I met you. And now I see a chance to have what's been missing in my life. I see the chance to have love."

"Even if love comes with complications and troubles and...how did you put it...too much damn emotion?"

He smiled and caressed her cheek again. "Even if."

She looked away from him again. Instead of easing her sadness, it seemed his declaration of love had the opposite effect on her.

"Venus, am I misunderstanding what's happening between us? If you don't think you could love me - "

"I could love you," she said quickly. "I do love you," she added softly. He smiled, but again his relief was short-lived.

"But love isn't always enough. Things between us might be too complicated," she said.

"I thought that was the point of love - to complicate things." He tried for a light tone, but when she met his gaze her distraught expression made his teasing stop. "What is it?" He pulled her into his arms. "What could be so terrible?" The sick feeling in his stomach expanded to include his heart. "Is there someone else?"

"No. There is no one else." She shifted in his arms so that she could look up at him. "Your life here is very important to you, isn't it?"

"Yes." His brow furrowed. "Is my job what's bothering you? It's dangerous, yes, but I'm careful." He knew some firemen whose wives were terrified every time the alarm sounded. He would hate to think of Venus living in that kind of fear. Could he give it up? Could he just be an artist? He wasn't sure, and he definitely didn't like to think about the possibility that he might have to choose between the love he had for his job and the love he had for her.

"It's not your job. I respect what you do. And a warrior's life is never without risk; I understand that. I was thinking of your family - your sisters and mother. You wouldn't want to leave them."

"No, I wouldn't." Then he understood. "You're not from Tulsa, are you?"

"No, I'm not. I'm only here temporarily, as a...favor for Pea at the college. When I'm finished helping her, then I really must go."

"Where are you from?"

She stared up at him, and he thought she looked oddly lost.

"I'm from far away."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "What? New York? Chicago? Or, God help us" - he chuckled - "Los Angeles?"

"Rome. And I also spend quite a bit of time in Greece."

His eyes widened in surprise. "You're right. That is far away. So...would you consider relocating?"

"I can't. I have other obligations, too," she said miserably.

"Then we can work out some kind of travel schedule and see what happens. A long-distance relationship isn't impossible. The world really isn't that big of a place anymore."

She looked doubtful.

He held her tighter. "You wouldn't let something like distance change how you feel about me. Would you?"

She touched his face, tracing his lips with her finger. "I wouldn't, but I'm afraid that when you realize just what loving me entails, you will."

"What can I do to make you believe I'm not so easily gotten rid of?"

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He loved how she felt pressed against his body. His hands slid down to the curve of her waist and she shivered in response to his caress.

"Just love me now, and let me hold to the fantasy of you a little while longer."

"I'm not a fantasy. We're not a fantasy," he said, before fiercely claiming her mouth. He wanted to say more, to assure her that he wouldn't let anything or anyone come between them, but her insistent mouth moved from his, down his chest, until she found the swell of his growing erection. When her mouth closed around him, words left his mind completely and he was only able to moan her name.