F rom the instant she began to dance, Griffin felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. He had never seen anything so beautiful.
No, that wasn't right. She wasn't just beautiful - that was too simple a word. If love could be made physical, this woman whose name tag so appropriately read Venus, Goddess of Love, would be his choice for the personification. And it wasn't just about sex - although he was goddamned sure every man out there, including himself, had hard-ons from watching her move. It was about her uninhibited laughter. The joyous way she tossed back her hair and embraced the music as if she actually were an ancient pagan goddess they should fall to their knees and worship.
He sure as hell understood why she hadn't wanted to dance inside. After watching her, how could a man be interested in any other woman?
"Fucking weird," he muttered to himself, never taking his eyes off her. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had gotten under his skin like this. Shit, women had been chasing him around since he'd outgrown his teenage zits and gawkiness. He'd been happy to return their interest, but he'd never had the desire to settle down with one. Two of his sisters said he was commitmentphobic. The other two said he had high standards and refused to settle. He thought the truth was probably somewhere in between.
Then this blonde walked into his life.
The dance ended and Griffin was on his feet heading toward her without consciously telling himself to move. Several of the other men had the same idea and he heard himself literally growling at them. He wanted her. He wanted her worse than he'd ever wanted anyone.
"Dance with me."
He hadn't waited for a response, but had taken her in his arms and begun maneuvering her away from the eyes of the other men. She felt soft and warm and she smelled like an exotic spice he couldn't place. They danced slowly under the tree, still not speaking, and he started to worry that he'd done something wrong. Or had he just imagined that she was as kind and smart as she was beautiful? Maybe she wasn't saying anything because she didn't have shit to say. He tried to look through her mask to the woman beneath, but all he could see were those violet eyes and those luscious lips that smiled so easily before, but were now set in a line that managed to look both aloof and sad.
"You were right," he said, falling back on what always worked with his sisters. Make them right and everything got instantly better.
"About?"
"About not dancing inside the restaurant."
"Yes," she said absently.
"Once, twice, three times a lady..." was all that filled the silence between them, and Griffin was beginning to feel desperate. At a total loss, he blurted the truth.
"You look sad."
She seemed to shake herself and refocused on him. "Not sad, just thoughtful."
"Anything I can help with?"
"Are you taking care of me as you would one of your sisters?"
He splayed the fingers of his hand intimately against the small of her back, very aware that all that separated his flesh from hers was a couple layers of flimsy silk. He held her gaze with his. "I don't feel brotherly toward you at all."
"Good." She sounded breathless.
He pulled her closer. He felt the slow, steady heaviness in his loins tightening and heating in response to her.
"I don't even know your name," he said huskily.
Her smile was teasing. "You should. You're dancing with your wife."
Her words took him completely off guard.
Venus laughed and the sound was so compelling that his desire to see her laugh and smile more was suddenly as great as his physical desire for her.
"Don't look so shocked," she said, still laughing. "You're Vulcan, God of Fire. I'm Venus, Goddess of Love. Vulcan and Venus are married."
He let his hand trace a lazy circle around the small of her back. "Sorry, Venus, my mythology is rusty. Are you sure the God of Fire is Vulcan? I thought that was Ares." Then he was ferociously glad that he was semiclueless about mythology when his comment made her toss back her head and laugh again.
"Oh, I'm sure!"
He grinned. "So we're married."
"Definitely." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leaned even closer to him.
"But rumors have it that it's just a marriage of convenience and strictly platonic."
"Bullshit!" he said, pretending offense - which he found damn easy to do. Just imagining being in a platonic marriage with this woman was enough to set his teeth to grinding. "No wonder I never got into those myths. Too damn hard to believe."
"You don't believe our marriage is platonic?"
"No, I don't."
She shrugged, eyes still sparkling playfully. "Who am I to argue with my husband?"
It was his turn to laugh. "I don't believe the Goddess of Love would be a submissive wife any more than I believe she'd be a passionless one."
"Well, husband, I'm glad to see we understand each other." She paused, and added in a voice that was suddenly hesitant and a little shy, "You might be surprised, though. Even a goddess can make mistakes. Who knew love could be intimate with loneliness?"
"You've been lonely, wife?" He meant it to be a teasing question, but the unexpected sincerity in her expression turned his tone serious.
She looked into his eyes and Griffin felt his heart contract. What had made this incredible woman so sad? He didn't know, but he did know that if the guy was here he'd make him sorry he ever drew breath.
"I have," she said softly. "We should have never married. We've both been unbearably sad. Friendship can only be an addition to, not a substitute for, true love."
Griffin felt her words move through him. Like they had parted a curtain, he realized just how alone his loveless life had become. "And neither is waiting and searching." He drew a deep breath, not sure where this was leading them, but not wanting to break the spell of intimacy. He leaned closer to her and whispered. "Is there any way we can reconcile? How can we make this better for both of us?"
She turned her violet gaze up to him, as if she was searching his face. "Maybe for just this one night we could become two different people."
"Anything for you, my goddess."
"I've been meaning to speak to you about calling me your goddess like that. It's very presumptuous, you know." Her expression had cleared, and her full lips tilted up. Griffin felt himself being drawn down to the inviting softness of her mouth.
"Well, since I'm your husband, newly reconciled at that, I think I'm entitled to a little presumption." He bent, and before she could say anything more, kissed her. She stiffened for only a moment. Griffin kept the kiss soft, allowing her plenty of time to break it and step away from him. But she didn't. Instead she relaxed and melted into his mouth. What started as a sweet, teasing question of a kiss deepened, and when he felt her arms glide up and around his shoulders Griffin became utterly lost in her. She opened her mouth to him, allowing him to drink her in. She tasted of spice and woman and sex. His response to her was primal and fierce. The thought passed through his lust-fogged brain that she made him feel so ablaze that he could actually be the God of Fire. Then he couldn't think at all. The only thing he could do was touch, taste and desire her.
He pulled her deeper into the shadow of the tree so that its trunk obscured most of their bodies from the view of people outside the restaurant, and he positioned himself so that his body was between her and the street. Then, in their small pocket of privacy, he devoured her. She leaned into him, molding her thighs against his. She moaned into his mouth and he cupped her sweet, soft ass in his hands, lifting her so that he could rub his erection against her.
"Is it good? Do you like it?"
"Yes," she whispered against his lips.
He reached up and pulled her silken shoulder strap down, baring her breast. Her pink nipple was puckered and ready for his mouth. He bent to lave the bud, circling it with his tongue before he sucked it into his mouth, hard and fast. Her gasp made him lift his head. She was panting, her lips parted and wet.
"You taste so damn sweet," he managed to say.
Spreading her legs, she moved her hips so that he had access to more of her. He pulsed against her. "Let me feel you."
She moaned and whispered, "Yes."
Blood rushed through his body, filling him so that he felt engorged, unbearably hard and tight. He reached between them and easily found a slit in her silky dress.
"Ah, god! You have nothing on under there." His voice sounded strange to him, deep and almost sobbing with lust as his fingers glided over her wet heat.
She didn't speak. Instead she lifted one leg, wrapping it high on his hip. Then she moved her own hips, lifting so that the tip of his penis joined his fingers and both were sliding against her slickness without actually penetrating her.
"If you don't want this, you have to tell me to stop now." He gasped the words, knowing that soon he would be unable to think rationally. "And please don't tell me to stop."
"Don't stop," she whispered.
With a growl, he took her ass in both of his hands and backed her against the tree. She braced herself with her hands on his shoulders, and then he moved forward, sliding into her tight heat with unbearable slowness as both her legs came up around him and he held her firmly.
"Christ, you feel incredible!"
Through the roaring of his pounding blood he heard her gasp and he covered her mouth again, drinking in her moans and muffling her cries and his own as he tunneled deeper. When he felt her spasm rhythmically around him, he tilted her pelvis even more so that he could sink himself fully inside her, his own orgasm building and building....
"Hey Captain, that you over there?"
Griffin had no fucking idea how his lieutenant's voice managed to penetrate the raw passion that was filling his brain, but later he thought how grateful he was that it had. No damn way he would ever have forgiven himself if anyone had seen what was going on between them.
"Captain! Hey!"
Griffin lifted his head from her and looked around the tree to see Robert waving and coming toward him.
"What is it?" Griffin roared. Slipping out of her, he angled his body so that she was even more covered as she hastily straightened her costume and tried to regain her footing. Robert froze where he was, clearly surprised by his friend's angry tone.
"Uh, the chief is asking for you. He wants you to explain to the mayor that plan you have for training the community on the use of the mini-defibrillators. Seems the mayor might have some funding you could use."
Griffin fought to make his brain work while he got his breathing under control.
"Go."
He glanced down at her. She was still straightening her costume and she wasn't looking at him.
"Just go," she repeated.
She tried to move out of the cage of his arms, but he only tightened them around her and threw Robert a quick, "Tell the chief I'll be right there."
Robert nodded, gave Griffin one more curious look, and then disappeared back into the restaurant.
"It's okay. He's gone now," Griffin told her.
"You should go, too."
Griffin felt an awful wave of frustration, mixed with a terrible sinking. It couldn't end like this. It wouldn't end like this. He reached out and pulled the silk ribbon that still held her mask into place, and it fluttered away like a freed bird, leaving her face naked to him. She was so incredibly beautiful the words he'd been planning to say wouldn't come to him. The silence between them grew, and in a gesture that was both proud and vulnerable, she lifted her chin and met his eyes.
"I said, you should go, too."
"Don't do that," he whispered roughly, finally finding his voice again. She looked away from him, clearly trying to hide the hurt in her eyes. He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her gaze back to his.
"You don't know me, so you're going to have to take my word for this till I can prove it to you. I'm not the kind of man who uses a woman and then walks away. This" - he gestured at the tree - "has never happened to me before. I should apologize to you, but I'd be lying if I said I was sorry it happened, and I won't lie to you." He paused, rubbing his thumbs up and down the smoothness of her cheeks. "What I will apologize for is leaving."
She stared at him for a long time with those expressive violet eyes. Finally she said, so softly that he had to strain to hear her, "This has never happened to me before, either. I'm usually the one in control."
"Let me take care of this business with the mayor. I'll try to make it short and be right back. Say you'll wait for me at our table."
"I'll wait for you," she said.
"Good." His kiss was rough and thorough, and then he reluctantly followed Robert's path into the restaurant.
