He wanted her, and that wanting pissed him off. He might not force her into anything, but he craved her touch as much as she craved his.
Maelea’s heart thumped hard as he turned and left. In the silence, her body tingled with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. And that darkness inside—the darkness that was drawn to him—vibrated with excitement. She could do this. So long as she remembered what was at stake here, she could do this and win. For the first time in her life, she held the power.
Freedom was at her fingertips. All she had to do was reach out and grasp it.
Chapter Eleven
Fresh clothes were sitting on the bathroom counter when Maelea yanked the shower curtain open. The door was ajar. Faint sounds of a TV echoed in the next room, but Gryphon was nowhere to be seen. Tugging the towel tighter to her dripping body, she stepped out of the tub and fingered the drab brown T-shirt and khaki pants Gryphon had picked out for her in that army surplus store.
Not exactly the sexy bedroom look she was going for, but she wasn’t ready to go out there in her birthday suit. She had to ease into this whole seductive siren role. She wasn’t Skyla, for crying out loud.
She tossed her wet undergarments over the shower rod to dry, then tugged on the pants, which were a good size too big, and pulled on the top. Her nipples hardened in the cool air, pressing against the rough cotton, but there wasn’t much she could do about that. And if he found it sexy, well, that was the goal, right? After all, it’d be the only sexy part of this whole ensemble. After towel-drying her hair, she finger-combed her long locks as best she could, then drew in a deep breath.
Showtime.
Her nerves hummed as the stained, worn strands of the carpet brushed her bare feet. She turned the corner, then stilled as she caught sight of him standing in front of the TV, the remote in his hand, his gaze locked on the screen as he flipped channels, looking for…she didn’t know what.
Blue-green light flickered off his bare chest, highlighted the tight muscles in his stomach and the dangerously low camo pants hanging loosely on his hips. Her gaze traveled down his legs to his bare toes, peeking from beneath the cuffs of his pants. And she was startled to realize that for the first time since she’d met him, he looked more human than monster. More man than warrior.
What would she think of him if she’d met him in a bar? In a restaurant? At the theater? She dragged her attention from his rock-hard body, up his torso to his face. His jaw was set in a hard line, covered in a dusting of stubble that matched his blond hair. Even she could see he was movie-star handsome, even with the smattering of scars from battles fought over the years. Yeah, if she’d met him anywhere else, she’d have been intrigued. She’d have wondered who he was and whom he went home to. And she’d likely have gone back to her house on Lake Washington and fantasized about him for at least one night, probably more.
That realization sent a tremor of awareness through her body, heating her blood, igniting electric tingles all along her skin. As if he’d just realized he wasn’t alone, he looked her way, and those eyes, those Caribbean blue eyes that reminded her of paradise, focused in on her, latched on tight, and tugged at something deep inside. Her breath caught. Even before she realized it, she was taking a step in his direction, moving as if someone else or something else was controlling her.
His eyes slid over her body, from the top of her wet head to the bottom of her bare toes, and the heat of his stare washed over every inch of her skin, stirring those tingles to full-on vibrations she couldn’t stop.
“I thought you might have drowned in there.”
His voice was rough, bringing nerve endings to life that ramped up her awareness and teased her to states of arousal she shouldn’t be feeling. Oh, man. Maybe she should go back and flip that shower to cold. Was seduction really a good idea, when she was having so much trouble controlling her body’s reaction to him?
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
“N-nothing.”
His scrutinizing gaze said he didn’t believe her. But he nodded toward the table instead of pressing for more. “The kid brought food. You should eat.”
Happy for the distraction—any distraction—she moved to the table and sat in the scuffed chair. He pulled a box from the bag, set it in front of her. Added a carton of fries, then stripped the paper off a straw and stuck it in the drink next to her hand. “If cheeseburgers won’t do—”
“That’s fine,” she said, opening the box and lifting the burger. It was already cool, but her stomach rumbled at the sight.
He sat across from her. They ate in silence, with the muted TV flickering behind her. As her stomach filled, and one need was slaked, her mind drifted to what she needed to do next. And excitement and worry warred hot all over again.
She swallowed a bite, set down her burger, and wiped her hands on a napkin. Gods, she really didn’t know how the hell to start this, but he’d never believe her intentions if she came out and jumped him, so she needed to try to ease the tension in the room first.
“I bet the others are worried about you,” she said, deciding to go with small talk first.
“They’re not.” He picked up a french fry, popped it in his mouth, didn’t look at her while he chewed.
“I’m sure Orpheus is.”
The mention of his brother stilled his hand against his drink, but he didn’t answer. As he lifted his cup, she wondered if he felt any guilt for running out on the brother who’d rescued him from the Underworld. Orpheus had to be going crazy right now, not knowing where Gryphon was or what he was doing.
He took a drink, set the cup back down, and went back to eating. In the low light, the Argonaut markings on his arms stood out in dark contrast to his light skin.
She studied the ancient Greek text that made up the markings. Realized the other Argonauts had to be mad at him after what had happened to Titus. She wanted to ask why he’d turned on one of his own, but knew that was small talk that would only lead her away from her goal. So she tried a different line of attack.
“What do you think of Skyla?”
“I don’t think about her.”
“No, I mean for Orpheus. It must have been quite a shocker to know he’d fallen for one of Zeus’s Sirens.”
He looked up…finally. And gods, those eyes were captivating. “Are you always full of so many questions?”
“Depends on the situation. Normally I’m not around people much, so I keep to myself. But since you’re forcing me to stay with you, there’s no sense ignoring each other, is there?”
He stared at her with those piercing light blue eyes so long, she was sure he was going to tell her to shut the fuck up. Then he looked back down at his burger and resumed eating. But before he did, he said, “As long as he’s happy, I don’t care.”
The comment surprised her. There was love there. But then, there had to be, if Orpheus had been willing to go into the Underworld—again—to rescue Gryphon. For the first time, she wondered what Gryphon had been like before he was sent to Hades. She remembered the females at the colony whispering that he’d been a playboy. Sought after by Argolean females. She could see why, with his looks. But his mood must have been a hell of a lot better then. She couldn’t imagine a bunch of women throwing themselves at him if he’d been as dark and brooding then as he was now.
You’re about to throw yourself at him, aren’t you?
Yes, but I have a reason.