Romantic Interludes Part 3

Eros rose to his feet and walked slowly down the hall to Psyche's room. He stopped at the door and reached for the handle, but let his hand fall away. He leaned his forehead against the wood and closed his eyes.

His whisper awoke her.

"Don't open your eyes," he said. His voice was so close, she knew he must be sitting on the edge of the bed. She lay on her side facing away from him, but she obeyed his request. In the warm, sleepy darkness, his voice made her s.h.i.+ver, but not unpleasantly. She bit her lip.

"Why were you out of your room this afternoon?" he asked. The question sounded tentative, and Psyche was surprised. She wasn't used to hearing hesitance in his voice, and she wanted to comfort him, to tell him everything would be all right.

"I was looking for you," she murmured. "I was going to use the scrying bowl."

"Did you need something?" Now he sounded surprised.

Psyche opted for honesty. "No. I . . . I missed you."

"I should have thought you would be lonely."

"No, that isn't it. I missed you."

It was a moment before he responded. "Why?"

"I don't really know," Psyche admitted. "I . . . just missed you."

"Do you miss Mercury?"

"What?" she asked. "I barely know the guy. Why would you think-Oh, Eros, no. I don't have feelings for him. I don't even really like him. Wait, I mean, I don't dislike him. I just don't know him enough to like him." She forced herself to stop babbling.

Eros was silent for a long moment.

"That's not possible."

"Apparently, it is," she retorted.

"Perhaps you aren't aware of your feelings yet," he said.

Psyche wanted to smack him. "I think I'd know if I was in love with him. I'm not. Maybe your arrow was a dud."

He laughed, a low, soft rumble that made her s.h.i.+ver again.

"It's not funny."

He sobered. "I did not mean to laugh at you. I was amused at the idea of one of my arrows being ineffective. That's never happened before."

"Well, since it's not working, I can go home now." Psyche's voice quavered and she bit her lip as tears stung her eyes. She should be happy about leaving, but the thought of never seeing Eros again . . .

"No," he said. "No. I'm sorry, but I can't-"

"It didn't work! There's no reason for me to stay here."

"I can't let you go." His voice was so low she could barely hear it, and she felt his hand brush over her hair.

"Why not?" she asked, her voice tight.

"Because I love you."

Her breath caught in her throat.

He leaned over her, so close she could hear him breathe. She froze, waiting, hoping, and felt his lips brush along her cheekbone, as lightly as the touch of b.u.t.terfly wings. They left a tingle in their wake.

"I love you," he whispered. "And I cannot bear the thought of you being in love with another."

"I'm not," she said. She turned her head slightly, toward him, and held out her hands, blindly seeking until her fingertips found his face. "Eros . . ."

He let out a soft groan and pulled her into his arms before lowering his warm lips to hers in a fiery kiss she felt to the depths of her being. She threaded her arms around his neck and tried to draw him closer, hold him tighter.

They fell together against the pillows, and Psyche whimpered softly as his hands traced along the sides of her neck to her shoulders, following the line of her collarbones down to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She sucked in a breath, and he quickly withdrew and began to sit up.

"No," she said and tightened her arms around him. "Please."

For a moment, he did not move. She didn't think he even breathed. "Are . . . Are you sure?"

"Yes," she whispered, and saying the word was such a sweet relief, as though she had let go of a struggle she didn't know she was fighting, admitting a truth that could not be denied. With a m.u.f.fled groan, he returned his lips to hers and it was like coming home.

Their clothes vanished. She became aware of it when she felt his smooth, warm skin against her own, and she eagerly explored what she had not seen, learning the shapes and contours of his body through touch and taste and scent. He was perfect, but what else could be expected of a Greek G.o.d?

The rush of sensation was almost frightening in its intensity, and she wondered if the touch of an immortal being was somehow better than that of a human man. She had never felt anything like this-this burning, aching need, this sizzling pleasure that crackled along every nerve. She murmured his name as he explored her, too, learning what she liked from her sighs and soft cries.

His delicious weight settled over her and she sighed in bliss. These feelings, this sweet intimacy, was what had always been missing from her life. She wanted to look into Eros's eyes as he joined with her, but he laid his hand gently over her eyes. "Don't," he whispered. And then there was no more need for words.

Psyche woke in the pre-dawn hours and opened her eyes before she remembered. A male body lay next to her, his back to her, curled on his side as he slept. Psyche feasted on his form, awed by his perfection. Her fingertips ached to reach out and caress his sun-kissed golden skin, to trace the contours of his sleekly toned muscles. He had the most adorable dimple on his bottom.

With a sigh of contentment, she snuggled up to his back and drifted into sleep.

A few hours later Eros woke her with a kiss, and she opened her eyes without thinking. She saw nothing but darkness and reached up, disappointed to discover he had draped the blindfold over her eyes.

"Good morning," Eros said.

"Mm." Psyche stretched, savoring the small aches in her body. "Good morning."

"Feel up to a small trip?"

"Yeah, sure, let me get dressed."

"Taken care of," he said, and her body was immediately covered with cloth.

She blushed. "I, um, I was going to get cleaned up first." Maybe G.o.ds didn't need to bathe and brush their teeth, but human beings weren't so fortunate.

"Oh. I'll wait."

She leaned over and kissed him. It landed on his jaw and she felt his cheek move beneath her lips in a smile. She removed the blindfold to find her way to the bathroom and re-donned it before she emerged and was folded into his arms.

"Hold on," he said, and she felt that strange spinning sensation again. A rumble grew in her ears, and then she felt cool mist on her cheeks. "Just a moment." He drew her forward a few paces. "Here we are." He led her down to the ground, where she sat with her back to his chest. He untied her blindfold and she gasped in astonishment at the sight before her.

They were sitting on a blanket at the base of the ma.s.sive waterfall. The water's motion was slowed near the bottom by protruding rocks, so it reached the pool at the base in a gentle shower. All around it grew a brilliant tumble of flowers, swaying on the rocks in the mist churned up by the falling water.

A small breakfast picnic had been spread out on s.h.i.+ning dishes. Psyche smiled in delight and picked up a goblet that sparkled with rainbows in the warm morning sunlight. She took a sip and her eyes flew wide with shock. She'd never tasted anything like this.

Eros chuckled. "Nectar. I see you like it."

"It's extraordinary."

She munched happily on the paximathakia, a hard, sweet rusk biscuit she remembered eating while visiting her father's family in Greece as a child. Cheese, fruit, and olives filled the other bowls. Eros did not eat any of it, instead nuzzling her ear with little kisses and nibbles that made it hard to concentrate on her meal.

"Finished?" he asked.

She nodded, because she couldn't speak.

"Close your eyes," he directed and tugged her to her feet. She followed where he led her down into the water. Her clothes vanished, and the warm breeze and cool mist caressed her skin before she entered the gentle, teasing currents of the pool. She dove in and opened her eyes once she was safely below the water, losing her breath at the sight of the colorful fish that darted through the rocks below. There was so much to discover here, a delightful surprise around every corner.

She surfaced and gasped for breath just before Eros captured her lips with his own. She wound her arms around his neck and moaned at the sensation of his warm, slippery skin against hers. He pulled her over to the rocks at the base of the waterfall, and her feet found a smooth ledge. His arms protected her back from the rock's rough surface as he trailed his lips down her body, licking off the drops of water that showered on them from above.

Psyche discovered that Greek G.o.ds did not need to breathe underwater. Her head fell back hard against the stone, but she barely felt it amid the drugging pleasure of his lips and tongue.

When he carried her back to the blanket, her muscles felt like limp noodles, and she was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. He lay down beside her and gave her a sweet kiss before they cuddled together and dozed off in the warm suns.h.i.+ne.

She woke to a fluttering on her nose. She opened her eyes and laughed when she saw a b.u.t.terfly placidly flexing its brilliant, jewel-toned wings. Psyche sat up to watch it fly away and glanced at Eros before realizing what she had done.

He lay on his back, one arm cast up over his head, the other draped over his stomach. His hair was the color of rich coffee, s.h.i.+ning in the sun. His features were younger than she had expected, beautifully sculpted. His lower lip had a hint of a pout that charmed her, and when he opened his eyes, she saw they were a light, sky blue.

He saw her looking at him. The expression on his face stabbed her heart, a wounded mix of horror and fear.

"G.o.ds, Psyche, why?" he whispered.

"I-I'm sorry." She looked away quickly, as though it could somehow erase what she had done. "I didn't mean to." But that was a lie. She had longed to see him, longed to know him with her eyes as she knew him with her flesh and her heart.

He surged to his feet and vanished, and Psyche shouted his name. There was no response, only the rumble of the waterfall. She looked up at his house perched on the edge of the cliff, a tiny dot a thousand feet away. Far away, as Eros now was. She hugged her knees to her chest and gave into the tears.

When she lifted her head again, she was in her room, alone. The sunlight had faded and the room was shrouded in a gray gloom. She thought it was very fitting.

"What's wrong, man?" Mercury asked, appearing in the chair beside Eros.

"How did you know?"

Mercury nodded at the window. "I could see the clouds from my house. It looks like a Victorian gothic novel over here."

"She looked at me," Eros said, his voice low and dull.

"So?"

Eros glared at him. "So I'll never know if she really loves me or if it's simply the power of the enchantment."

Mercury sighed. "I really thought you'd figure it out by now."

"Figure out what? I'm getting very d.a.m.ned tired of everyone being so cryptic."

Mercury grinned. "I don't think I've heard you swear in a thousand years."

"Get out."

Mercury's grin disappeared. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"I know." Eros rubbed his forehead. "Would you please explain before I go mad?"

"Psyche loves you, Eros. That's why I knew it was safe to visit her. Her heart had already been given to you."

Eros simply stared at him.

"Aphrodite knew it was coming."

"How?"

Mercury shrugged. "She's the G.o.ddess of love, man. It's kind of her specialty."

Eros was afraid to hope.

"Tell you what, go in there and ask her one question. Just one. Ask her if she feels any differently about you now than she did last night."

Psyche couldn't cry anymore. Her breath was still hitched in sobs, but it seemed her tear ducts had run dry. She lay on her bed, which felt so cold and empty, and mourned the death of something that had just begun. Her heart hurt, a dull empty pain that only seemed to increase as the hours ticked slowly by.

He'd trusted her, and she had betrayed that trust. Even though he'd obviously been wrong about the arrow's effects, she had made a promise to him.

He would send her home now. She was amazed at how unappealing she found that, even though she'd be glad to a.s.sure her parents she was safe. But the life she had once loved seemed so dull and colorless now.

"Psyche."

She sat up so fast she nearly fell off the bed. "Eros!"

He crossed the room and sat on the bed beside her. She glanced at him and then away. His fingers touched under her chin and lifted it until her eyes met his own.

"Look at me," he said. "Please."

She did, though it only intensified the ache in her heart. "Eros, I'm sorry. I-"

He shook his head. "You don't need to apologize. I understand why you did it. If I could not look at you . . . Psyche, it's what I've done for years-watched you from a distance and wished I could speak to you, hold you, touch you." He caressed her cheek, and she closed her eyes as the tears returned. Two fat droplets fell, and he brushed them away with his thumbs. "I have a question for you."

"Anything."

"Have your feelings for me changed?"

"Oh, Eros, no." She felt suddenly shy, but she had to say it. She might never get another chance. "I love you, Eros. And it came from my heart, not your arrow. I don't know if you'll believe me, but I-"