She had never felt so safe and happy in her life. Either of her lives.
"It was all worth it," she whispered, her voice rough from crying out. "All worth it, just for this moment. I'm so glad I died, Sabiniano. Otherwise I never would have been able to come back to you like this."
He stilled beneath her, and she stiffened. He lifted one finger, touching the golden collar around her throat lightly.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing," he replied, too quickly. She leaned up on her elbows to stare intently into his face.
"You're lying to me, something is wrong."
"No," he replied. He turned his head away from her penetrating gaze.
"Whatever it is, you can tell me," she said quietly. "I have a right to know, I think."
"It's nothing to do with you," he replied. "It's between me and my god."
"Isn't he my god, too, after all this?" she asked quietly. "I've given in.
I've become a wanton. I think I rather like it, actually."
"No," he said intensely, turning his gaze back to meet hers. "Dionysus is the god of lust. You follow Aphrodite now. This isn't any kind of ordinary lust, Kalliara. Believe me, it is much, much more. What we have is far too special to call it Dionysus'. "
She stared at him, stunned.
"So you love me, then?"
"Of course," he muttered, shaking his head. "And you love me. We were made for each other. Can't you see that?
"Yes, I can," she whispered, nestling her head against his shoulder. "But until this moment, I wasn't sure if you could. I thought perhaps this was all just a game to you."
"This is no game, Kalliara," he replied, voice sounding heavy and tried. "I only wish it was…"
Chapter Twelve
Aphrodite spent the first thirty minutes of her imprisonment so angry she could hardly see. She pulled, tugged, kicked and even tried to bite her way through the restraints.
She couldn't budge them.
When that failed, she considered sending a mental message to Cupid, her son.
There was nothing Dionysus could do to keep Cupid from rescuing her. But if she did that, it would all be over for Kalliara and Sabiniano. Not to mention the humiliation of trying to explain her situation. Being outsmarted by Dionysus wasn't exactly something she was proud of…
The next half-hour she weighed her options. She had agreed to do anything he asked, without putting any provisions on the deal. That was her first big mistake. She never should have trusted him to behave with the kind of implied decency she expected from other gods and goddesses.
But the deal was done, and she wouldn't let it be said she went back on her word.
Still, there were certain things she wouldn't allow, she decided. No mortals; no third parties at all. Not that she necessarily objected to sex with mortals. She simply didn't trust his judgment and taste. Zeus only knew what kind of monster he might come up with if she didn't make herself clear…
After an hour, resigned to her bargain with him, she grew bored. She stared at the ceiling, willing him to return. It had been centuries since she'd been forced to endure such solitude, such lack of entertainment in one form or another.
That's when she noticed the spider.
It was a small thing, unusually colored with pale spots. It wasn't all that large, and it seemed to be building a web in the drapes in the canopy over Dionysus' bed. She watched as it went back and forth, each strand placed with careful precision, until the spider suddenly stopped. She got the distinct impression that the little creature had noticed her.
Of course, such a thing was absurd.
But then the spider began lowering itself toward the bed on a thin strand of silk. Closer and closer it came, and to Aphrodite's horror, it appeared as if the thing was going to land on her gown.
She hadn't realized until that moment just how little she cared for spiders.
"Get away from me," she hissed, filled with sudden disgust. How dare this-thisinsect menace a goddess? "I command you to leave me!"
The spider paused, seeming to cock its little spider head at her words. Then it continued it journey, landing on her gown. It crawled slowly up her body, moving toward her face, and she screamed.
Within seconds, Dionysus strode into the room.
"Get it off me, get it off me!" she shrieked. "Kill it!"
He looked at her quizzically.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, apparently unconcerned by her distress.
"This damn spider, it's crawling all over me," she sputtered, all dignity lost. "Get it off of me and kill it right now."
"A spider?" he asked, and for the first time he seemed truly concerned. "Calm down, be still. Tell me where it is!"
She forced herself to hold still. She couldn't see it, but she felt it. It had crawled up her neck. Now the horrible little thing was sitting right on her cheek.
He reached over and carefully allowed the tiny creature to crawl on to his fingers. She moaned in relief, her head rolling back against the pillows.
Dionysus was silent. After a moment she grew curious, and turned to watch him.
He had lifted the spider up to his mouth and was whispering to it softly. The look on his face was almost tender; something she'd never seen before. What was going on here?
Then it was over. Dionysus raised his hand and deposited the spider back into the draperies.
"Aren't you going to kill it?" she asked, fascinated by his display of kindness.
"No," he said shortly. His face had taken on that smooth look of cultivated boredom she had some to expect from him.
"Why don't you at least move it away from the bed," she said quickly.
"It won't bother you again," he said, his expression impossible to read. "It lives up there, and I won't remove it from its home just for you. But enough about my spider. We have other business to address."
She watched him calculatingly, trying to fathom his motivations. He met her gaze coolly.
"I won't have sex with anything but you," she said quickly. "I want to make that clear before we start."
He looked amused.
"You must not trust me, dearest goddess," he whispered, leaning in close to her face. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm quite sure that you aren't adverse to a good orgy under the right circumstances…"
His hot breath tantalized her ear, and against her will she shivered. He was far too attractive for her peace of mind…
"These aren't the right circumstances," she replied, her voice taut with tension. "I like to choose my partners. I won't have them chosen for me."
"But you do choose me," he said, purring softly. He nipped at her ear with his teeth, and a frisson of pleasure zipped down her spine.
"I choose to save my children," she said.
"Ah, yes," he replied. "The brave martyr. Admit it, Aphrodite. You've always been attracted to me. I represent everything that you aren't; everything that you're secretly fascinated by."
It was hard to focus on his words. Even as he kissed her ear and neck, his fingers slid down the fabric of her gown. It was a wrap-around, bound only at the waist. Far too easily breached, she realized. Already his fingers were cupping her breast. When they fondled her nipple, she gasped.
"I prefer my sex to be bound with emotion," she said, trying to ignore the way he rolled the nipple between two fingers, then tugged gently at it. "I may not love all those I take to my bed, but I certainly care for them," she added on a gasp.
"And what do you feel for me?" he asked in a dulcet voice, bringing his lips around to the hollow of her throat. His tongue flicked out like a snake's, and she moaned.
"I feel disgust for you," she replied, almost incapable of speech. "The way you treat humans and immortals sickens me. You care nothing for them, only for your own perverse pleasures and destruction."