Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
I fumbled around with a few of them over the years before deciding my life was better spent pursuing knowledge than dating.
I think the problem with Professor Bael Than was that he was somehow a peer, a professor, and just ridiculously attractive.
My mind and body didn’t know how to categorize him. So I found myself mentally intrigued but also physically… interested.
Which was proving problematic for me.
I liked when I could put and keep people in their little boxes.
Bael Than didn’t want to be contained in just one.
And it was making me short-circuit or something.
Nerves jangled in my bones, making me feel shaky and as I reached the ornate, wide wooden staircase that led to the second floor, there was that strange hair on the back of my neck sensation again that had me turning and looking up.
Right into his dark eyes.
He was leaning on the railing a few feet away from my cozy corner of the library wearing plain dark brown slacks and an oatmeal-colored cardigan. With elbow patches.
I had a strange fondness for men with elbow patches, I had to admit.
The outfit made him seem less dark and intimidating than he’d been the night before.
Which only made the strange feelings inside of me feel even more conflicted as his gaze stayed on me, deep, penetrating.
A strange shiver moved through me as I raised my hand, giving him a small wave as he just continued to stare.
Turning, I rushed up the rest of the stairs and toward the back corner of the library where he had already pushed together a few tables. There were a few notebooks lying around along with two travel mugs of, I assumed, coffee.
“Professor,” Bael greeted me in that deep, sexy voice of his.
“Charlie, please,” I insisted. “Or Charlotte,” I added, dropping my books on the table, then putting my purse on one of the free chairs.
“Long day?” he asked as I spilled into another chair.
“No. I mean, yes. But no. All days are a little long. But I’ve had the worst run of clumsiness today. I feel like all I’ve done is ram into things and knock over things and drop things. And each time, there is this weird twinkling laughing sound. So, clearly, I probably have a brain tumor or something. We better get all this information out of me before it progresses,” I added, reaching for the mug he passed me with both hands, feeling a bit of warmth even through the insulated walls.
“We can reschedule,” he suggested, but everything in his tone suggested he didn’t want to have to do that.
A real go-getter, I guess.
He wanted to get his app going.
I had to respect that.
“No, really. Once I get some of this in me, I’ll feel better,” I told him, popping the top of the travel mug and getting a whiff of something sweet and caramel-scented.
Maybe I should have felt weird about accepting a drink from a stranger. But the library was my safe space. And unless he had a giant duffle bag in his back pocket, there was no way he was going to get my unconscious body out of the building without someone seeing.
“Salted caramel oat milk latte. The woman at the coffee shop said it was the most popular drink on their menu.”
“It smells like dessert,” I said, taking a sip, careful not to scald myself. “Okay. So. Your app. What is it you need to know?” I asked as he stood behind the seat across from me, his big, scarred hands holding the top of it, but not moving it to sit down.
“I guess, first of all, it would be important to know who are the most dangerous gods.”
“Oh, now, that’s a loaded question, isn’t it? I mean Zeus is the god of all gods. And he was sure dangerous to just about every attractive woman he came across. But he was usually too busy doing all that skirt-chasing to create any real issues.
“No, if we are looking at the gods to create the most problems, I think we can look at Eris, the goddess of discord and strife. She was so disliked that they never created a temple for her.”
“Did she create issues for the humans? For other gods?”
“Both, actually. She was, in a complicated way, at fault for the whole Helen of Troy and Trojan War debacle. There’s also Enyo, the goddess of destruction. She loved war and bloodshed. She was really well known for the destruction of whole cities. Oh, and we can’t forget about Erinyes.”
“Who was she?”
“They,” I corrected. “They were a trio of crones. Always depicted as really hideous. The antithesis of Aphrodite. Anyway, they would bring vengeance against anyone who wronged people who should be honored and respected. Like parents, city officials, or even just the elderly.”
“Are all the worst gods women?” he asked, shooting me a smirk.