Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Gods, he’s dangerous.
I knew that, but he’s been such a blundering, prideful fool since taking the title that it was easy to tell myself I imagined his rough charm from the house party. That I imagined my response to it. “I’m not offering that.”
“Not as part of the bargain,” he agrees easily. Too easily. Before I can reiterate that I’m not, under any circumstances, having sex with the person who’s married to my ex, he continues. “How do you plan to fix my image?” The words have a sarcastic edge, but he looks genuinely curious. “Fight fire with fire?”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “That’s a losing game. Eris has been playing the press since she was a teenager. Earlier, even. No, you have to go in a different direction.”
Interest lights his dark eyes. “Okay, you have my attention.”
I haven’t spent any time thinking about this, but I was trained the same as Eris. I’ll never have the same media spotlight that she does, but my parents taught me early that perception is a weapon at our disposal. It’s easy enough to come up with a solution that has a chance of working. “You play the doting husband.”
“Pass.” Hephaestus’s face twists. “Everyone knows I didn’t choose the marriage. No one will believe I’m following my unfaithful wife around with hearts in my eyes.”
“Not if you keep standing next to her and glowering like you want to murder her.” I set my glass down. “You need to make them root for you. The only way to do that is to play on their pity.”
“I do not want their pity.”
Pity is obviously a sore spot for him, but I don’t care. “Let me paint you a picture.” I lower my voice, forcing him to lean in. “The steadfast, loyal husband and the philandering wife who flaunts her lovers in public. Who do you root for?”
“Pick another option.”
“You’re not capable of any other option and Eris is too beloved, even if it’s that they love watching her spectacle. You have no chance of being more charming than her. You don’t have her connections. Minos is tolerated right now the same way people tolerate an amusing jester, and he shows every evidence of building that amusement into goodwill, but you don’t have his skill. People do not like you.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know.”
I eye him. “If you’d played it the way I suggest from the start, pretending to be in love with her, or at least besotted with her, then people would empathize with you. Half the city wants to be in Aphrodite’s bed, and the other half wants to be her. You’re a newcomer to Olympus, so it’d be easier to project their feelings onto you…except you keep being an asshole, which turns that empathy to hate. If you’d started things this way, she never would have been able to pull that stunt this morning.”
His mouth thins. “I don’t like it.”
“You don’t like any of this, so that’s hardly news.” I catch my tone going playful. I am not going to flirt with him. I don’t even like him. “That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”
He considers it. I like that he doesn’t simply take me up on it without thought. Finally, he says, “If you’re trying to get close to me to spy, it’s a waste of time. I’m not soft enough to share pillow talk, and Minos certainly isn’t going to let anything slip.”
My skin flares hot at the idea of pillow talk with Hephaestus. I want to say desiring him is just a side effect of a broken heart, but there was a spark when we first met, too. Not enough to indulge in, not when I was with Eris.
But I’m not with Eris anymore.
That’s enough. You said you didn’t want her hurt, and now you’re fighting not to flirt with her husband. What do you think that would do if she found out?
Not that hurting me was enough to give her pause before moving forward with her plan.
“Then I suppose you have no reason to say no.”
His smile widens. “Guess you’re right.” He reaches out a big hand and I do my best to ignore the zing that surges through me when I slip my hand into his. “Okay, Adonis, you have yourself a bargain.”
8
APHRODITE
Pandora obviously has no intention of lingering despite not leaving with Hephaestus, but I’m not about to waste this opportunity. I watch her pull the rumpled bridesmaid dress over her wide hips and have to fight not to lick my lips. She really is delicious. “Eurydice said you were interested in the club.”
“I was drunk.” She tugs the fabric up around her stomach and then breasts.
I’m already moving. “Let me.”
She huffs out a breath, but turns to present me with her back. I would like to say it’s my mercenary streak that has me dragging my knuckles up her spine as I zip her up, but really I just want an excuse to touch her. Adonis and I were always so aware of appearances that when we were “on,” we never stepped out of the respectable, monogamous box Olympus put us in. As a result, it’s been a long time since I touched anyone else like this.