you’re finally awake.”
At the sound of his voice, deep and rumbling, Scarlet stiffened, gaze once again roving. Then, she spotted him, and her heart stopped abruptly. He stood in the bedroom’s doorway, muscled arms hanging loosely. He was a warrior whose wicked face promised incomparable nights of sinful pleasures, his eyes bright with anticipation and contradicting his casual pose.
Gideon. Once her beloved husband, but now a man who deserved only her scorn.
Her heart kicked back into gear, quickly gaining speed, and her blood heated with tendrils of awareness. The same reaction she’d experienced the first time she’d seen him, thousands of years ago.
Not my fault, then or now. There was no man more beautiful, part angel, part devil, and all the more masculine for it. No man who tempted even as he repelled, someplace deep inside a woman warning her of the dangers that awaited her should she succumb to his allure. Dangers she couldn’t help but crave.
He wore a black T-shirt that read “You Know You Want Me,” black pants that bagged just a little and a silver chain belt. There were three piercings in his right eyebrow, and now one in his lip. A hoop. Silver. To match his belt, she thought snidely.
He’d always cared about his appearance, and hadn’t liked being teased about it. Something that had once amused her, for it had showed a softer side of him. A hint of vulnerability.
Today, however, she couldn’t summon any joviality. While he stood there looking as edible as a chocolate truffle dipped in caramel, she probably resembled a gutter rat dipped in sewage. She’d only been able to scrub herself with the water the Lords brought her each evening, so her clothes were wrinkled and dirty and her hair a mass of tangles.
“Got lots to say, huh?” he muttered. “We’re on the right track, then.”
She knew he could only speak lies, so she knew exactly what he meant. He wanted her talking. Keep it cas. Don’t let him know how he affects you. She arched a brow, donning what she hoped was an unconcerned expression. “Remember me yet?” Good. There hadn’t been a single spark of hurt in her tone.
His eyes drained of emotion, making those crystalline orbs look as hard as diamonds. “Of course I do.”
So, no. He didn’t. Bastard. She didn’t allow her expression to change, wouldn’t let him know how much he upset her. “Then why did you take me out of the fortress?” Slowly, purposefully, she traced a finger down the column of her neck, between her breasts, wondering if—yep. His gaze followed the entire way. Did some part of him still find her attractive? “I’m a very dangerous woman.”
“Haven’t been warned about that already.” The words were broken, emerging on a rasp of breath. “And I didn’t remove you to talk comfortably, that’s for sure.”
Not because he’d wanted her, then, but just to appease his curiosity. Her hand fell to her lap. She was not disappointed. This was more of the same, and she’d steeled herself against the mental anguish countless times already. One more time should hardly make a difference.
“You’re a fool if you thought a change of scenery would loosen my tongue.”
Though he remained silent, a muscle ticked in his jaw. He was clearly perturbed.
She offered him a sugar-sweet smile, determined to enjoy the moment. And there was something satisfying about leaving him in the dark, keeping him guessing the way he’d kept her guessing about his whereabouts for thousands of worry-filled years.
Reminded of her worry, that soul-deep, ever-present worry, she couldn’t stop her smile, fake as it was, from vanishing. She even had to press her tongue to the roof of her mouth to stop herself from chomping on it in fury.
“I’ll come back for you,” he’d told her one night. “I’ll set you free, I swear it.”
“No. Don’t go. Don’t leave me here.” Gods, she’d been so whiny back then. But she’d been a prisoner, and he’d been her only bright light.
“I love you too much to be without you for long, sweetheart. You know that. But I have to do this. For both of us.”
Of course, she hadn’t seen or heard from him after that. Not until the Titans escaped Tartarus, a prison for immortals, and wrested control of the heavens from the Greeks. Not until she’d come here to Earth and searched…only to find him carousing for tail at some skanky nightclub.
The fury expanded, dotted her line of vision with red. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Slowly the dots dissipated.
“We’re done here,” she said, though she remained still, gauging his reaction. “You’re not getting what you want, and you’re certainly not keeping me here.”
“Feel free to run from me.” He crossed his arms over his massive chest, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight across his pecs. “You won’t regret it.”
Again, she knew what he meant. Run, and he would ensure she suffered. But she said, “Soon as I stretch, I’ll take you up on that offer and run. Thanks for the suggestion, by the way. I never would have thought of it on my own.”
He growled with frustration and anger, all hint of casualness gone. “I was cruel to bring you here. You don’t owe me a favor in return, so you had better not stay put.”
“We’re in agreement. You’re cruel, and I don’t owe you anything, so I won’t feel obligated to remain.”
Another growl. She tried not to laugh. Damnation, he was still fun to tease.
Fun? Her grin faded a second time. She should hate that he could only speak in lies, not enjoy it. That deceitful tongue of his had once shattered her already fragile heart.
“That’s so not enough from you,” he sniped.
“Wow. Already begging for more.” Once, she’d thought him special. But he’d proven himself exactly like the others. Her mother, her king, her supposed friends. They should have cared about her, but they had betrayed her, each and every one of them.
They’d been criminals, sure, but even criminals could love. Right? Right. So why couldn’t they love me?
She’d spent her entire life locked inside Tartarus because her mother, Rhea, wife to Cronus, had had an affair with a mortal just before the queen’s imprisonment and had eventually given birth to Scarlet inside her cell. A cell she’d shared with several other gods and goddesses.
Scarlet had been raised among them, and at first, they’d liked her. As she’d aged, however, jealousy had sprouted in some. Lust in others.
Captivity, hatred and bitterness had soon become her only trusted companions.
Until Gideon.
He’d once been an elite guard to Zeus and every time he’d brought in a new prisoner, their gazes had met. She’d waited for those moments, desperate for them. He’d enjoyed them, too, because he’d begun to visit Tartarus regularly. Not to lock up another criminal but simply to see her, to talk to her.
Don’t think about your time with him. You’ll soften toward him. And you can’t soften, you idiot.
