Apollo's Gift (The Greek Gods Series) (2 page)

She squared her shoulders. “This is not the city of Troy and I’m not your dead princess. Even if this gift were real, which it’s not, no one would listen to me. People don’t believe in prophecy these days. I don’t even believe in it. They’ll shoot me full of meds and lock me in a rubber room.”

His eyes softened. “Millions will suffer if you don’t try.”

“Millions?” Definitely a nightmare.

* * *

Cassie jolted awake. Her palms were damp, her heart pounding. What a nightmare. She rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand, hoping to remove the memory. She shuddered. It was only a dream. It had to be. Gods didn’t exist; neither did divine gifts and curses. She followed her urge to spit away what clung to her lips, but the slight pressure of a kiss remained.

The sun remained high in the sky. She couldn’t have slept for more than a few minutes. “Apollo, really,” she muttered. It would figure that the hottest guy she’d ever met would be an annoying figment of her creative mind. “Men are jerks.” She shook her head and her gaze fell to her hat lying beside her, a wreath of laurel laid over the wide brim.

“Damn.

CHAPTER TWO

 

“So beautiful.” Apollo watched unseen as Cassandra stepped into the steamy shower. Travertine tiles lined the walls, but it wasn’t the stone he focused on, it was the woman. He’d had many lovers, but this ebony-haired beauty had weighed on his mind for the last three thousand years. Was it her soft curves, long legs and violet eyes that captivated him or her inner fire?

Cassie turned to face him and threw her head back, water pouring over her dark tresses, molding them against her shoulders and around her ample breasts like fingers holding ripe pomegranates. He hungered to taste that fruit. Indulging in the temptations of the flesh no longer dishonored a mortal father or a woman’s position. And this mortal woman tempted him. Beads of moisture ran over her satin skin and dripped from her rosebud nipples, calling him to suckle at her warmth, and then lower to that temple created by the gods, where he would worship for long, blissful hours.

But he wouldn’t compel her. It was within his power to act as Zeus often had, and transform into a shower of gold or rays of welcoming light, cover her innocence and know her. Take her. Apollo shook his head. He’d changed, grown perhaps, if it were possible for the gods to become more. He desired more than Cassandra’s body, he wanted her eyes to sparkle at his approach, and her heart to leap with joy at his touch. He wanted her love. Artemis might be right; he thrived on competition and a challenge. Gaining Cassandra’s love was a challenge.  Cassie had spurned him ages ago and he hadn’t taken it well.

Not this time
. He had a plan.

She dried herself with a pink towel and rubbed almond-scented lotion over her delectable curves. How he longed to be that lotion and glide against her skin. He breathed in and released it slowly. Or taste it, licking up the sweet oil for the promise of something sweeter, Cassandra. He groaned within. The wager demanded that he wait. He refused to leave her virtue and safety to chance. He’d watched over her since birth and, seen or unseen, he’d stay by her side. Even if it tried him. Like this moment. This time he’d handle it differently. Rather than trading the gift of prophecy for pleasures of her flesh, he’d given the gift to tie her to him. Cassandra had no idea of his true intentions. How could a mortal understand the mind of a god? Once she called upon him for aid, and knew his heart, she’d willingly consent to his will. But her consent wasn’t enough; he demanded her passion and her love. He’d woo her in her dreams and bring her warnings as she slept. The maniacal ravings of ancient times would be a cruel punishment in this world.

Humanity lacked faith. They no longer prayed to the gods or valued their wisdom, but looked to small oracles they held in their hands to gain knowledge, phones, pads and computers had replaced Delphi and Olympus.  Foolish mortals. The gods existed and it was time humanity remembered.

He’d gifted her with prophecy, now to point her in a direction to use it.
Something small to
start….
Apollo lost his thought as Cassandra bent over to retrieve a towel from the floor. Perfectly rounded hips set upon shapely legs met his hungry gaze. The woman tried him and she didn’t know it. His fingers itched to caress those mounds and pull her against himself. One day soon, after she valued the gift, knew it’s importance, and her desire matched his own, then he’d have her. Not before.

* * *

Cassie’s mother eyed her over a cup of black coffee at breakfast. Her raven hair was cut short to control the riot of curls threatening her sleek look of flawless skin and navy suit. “It’s for the best. Your father and I agree that living at home while you attend school will bring much- needed opportunity. You only met rabble and brought home poverty-stricken students when you lived in the dorms. We want more for you.” She scraped butter from her toast and nibbled a dry corner.

“I appreciate the thought, but I liked those people. They were real.” Cassie shoveled blueberries into her mouth and chewed.

“Real? Planning for your future, that’s real. Spending your time working out equations and avoiding social activities, it’s just not right. What kind of life is that for a beautiful young woman? It’s just not…” Her mother pursed her lips. “You need situations where you can meet the right people.”

Cassie breathed in and out through her nose as she finished chewing and silently counted to ten.  By
right
people, her mother meant wealthy young men with bright futures and the appropriate family connections. Cassie didn’t care for any of it. She’d dated enough of those men and they’d all walked away from her. She’d resigned herself to the fact that they didn’t want her. Why torture herself? Numbers didn’t judge, and she preferred their silent acceptance and calculated outcome to romantic failure. “I have plans for my life. I want to…” Her mother’s phone vibrated and hummed beside her plate.

“Excuse me, I have to take this. It’s my office.”

“Oh yes, your office.” Cassie felt the familiar frustration rise inside.
Big emergency. Maybe another debutant had a pimple.
Practicing dermatology mattered to her mother, not that she didn’t love Cassie, but her mom just couldn’t focus on more than one thing at a time. For now, medicine won out.

While her mother finished the call, Cassie mused over her options. Play the part of the dutiful daughter and put up with her parents interference, or what? She pushed a lone blueberry around her bowl with her spoon. The last orb stubbornly avoided direction, running ahead and then escaping
. Like me
. That’s what her parents saw in her, a young woman in need of shepherding into an appropriate life. Cassie set down the spoon and glared at the berry
. Fine.
She might live at home while attending school, but that’s as far as she’d go. No setting her up with the “right” men.

“Good morning, princess.” Her dad had called her princess for as long as she could remember but, since her disturbing dream at Delphi, the endearment prickled her skin.
It was only a dream. Get over it.

“Morning.” Cassie forced her mouth into a weak smile.

Her dad took a seat beside her at the gleaming cherry-wood table, poured cream into his coffee and stirred. That glazed look covered his eyes, the one that meant trouble he couldn’t discuss. “What?” he murmured, and stirred, the spoon clinking against bone china.

“Dad.” Cassie touched his hand, hoping to bring him back from some dark precipice shadowed in his hazel eyes. Things must be rough at the Pentagon. “Well, this should make you happy, I’m living here while getting my masters.”

He shifted his gaze, landing on her face and smiled. “I’m glad. We haven’t seen you all summer and I’ve missed you.”       

“You won’t see me much. I’ll be busy with school and you’re schedule is crazy.”

“Being secretary of state is demanding, but I’ll make time.”

She saw truth shining in his eyes and it warmed her. His brow furrowed. “And don’t forget your mother, with all the volatile news coming out of the Middle East, she was a nervous wreck while you were gone. I had to talk her out of insisting you cut your trip short.”

Cassie glanced at her mother gesturing as she spoke on the phone, surprised she worried over much, except her patient’s acne. “Well, there’s nothing volatile about me or Georgetown. We’re as dependable as a quadratic equation.” 

He winked. “Nothing wrong with that. Keep your feet on the ground and your head on the facts and you’ll always know what course to take.” He stood and pressed a kiss to the top of her dark hair, signaling the end of the discussion. “Living here is the logical answer and will move your life forward. You’ll see.”

She tilted her head up and stared at him. He’d aged. His dark brown hair grayed to salt and pepper. Creases deepened around his mouth and etched worry into his brow. How had she missed the change in him? Her heart softened. “Okay, Dad.”

CHAPTER THREE

 

“Order and logic…yeah right,” Cassie muttered, and shifted her feet. The morning line at Starbucks on campus snaked around tables to the door. It was her second day and, so far, she had a handle on her program, but not her dreams. Apollo invaded her sleep, plying her with wine and poetry in an effort to seduce. Damn, he was good at it. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the entire dream. It always evolved into reliving the destruction of Troy with her playing the part of the doomed prophetess. Yeah, not getting much sleep—and she felt it.

The line inched forward, some people making multiple orders. Cassie shrugged her shoulders trying to loosen the confining charcoal suit. Mother had insisted she wear professional dress and dragged her reluctant body to stores for clothes and shoes, all tight, none her style and definitely not comfortable. Cassie preferred something loose and loaded with pockets.

Another step toward the counter.
At this rate, I’ll be twenty minutes older before I reach the
front. All for coffee, sinfully addictive coffee
. Another step. Her mind wandered to other sinful pleasures, dreams of the Greek god. Ugh. She had to stop it. She was hung up on a dream.

He’d played the lyre last night and sung the verse he’d composed—Ode To Cassandra he’d called it. Heat flooded her cheeks. Where had she gotten such a lusty imagination? And why dreams of Apollo? Why not someone real, like that cute guy with the buzzcut and sexy leather jacket she’d spied every morning? She craned her neck, hoping to find him ahead in line.  Her perusal met with shades of sweatshirts and jeans, but no leather capped with a chocolate buzz. She let out a breath of frustration.

“Hello,” the voice rumbled behind and to her left.

She turned and met dark eyes of burnt umber and a dazzling smile. Mr. Buzzcut looked even more interesting up close. “Hi. Here to get coffee?”
Oh brilliant, goof. It’s
Starbucks.
She quelled the urge to roll her eyes.

“What else?” A lopsided grin spread over his mouth. “And I’d hoped you’d be here.”

“Me? Why?” She almost bit her tongue. Was she really that socially challenged?

He chuckled, a pleasant bass note that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “I wanted a name to go with that beguiling smile.”

“Oh.”
He’s so incredibly cute
. When was the last time a man noticed her over a calculation?
Too long
.  In spite of the warmth creeping its way up her neck and into her face, she managed a smile.

“Ah, that’s what I’m talking about.” His eyes sparkled. “Now if only I can get your name, I’ll survive my tedious day.”

Something about him disarmed her. He was funny and she liked him. “You first. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” she teased.

“So that’s how we’re playing it. John Medina, student and lover of beauty.”

She laughed. “Cassie Priam.”

“No kidding? Secretary Priam’s daughter?” His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but she noticed. With her dad as the secretary of state, she’d gotten a lot of that here. Cassie hoped the connection wouldn’t put John off.

“The one and only.” She watched for the usual response, rigid stance, eyes glazed with fear, perspiration followed by a sudden recollection of a previous commitment.

John’s gaze didn’t falter, but softened. “That’s got to be tough.”

“I’m used to it,” she lied.

* * *

Cassie sipped her coffee in a daze on the way to class. John Medina was a brave man, barely flinching when he’d heard her name. But he wouldn’t be interested in her, not really. He hadn’t asked her out, and had
player
stamped on his compelling half grin. She must not be his type. Who was she kidding? Cassie wasn’t anyone’s type. Her long list of break-ups was proof of that. Medina probably had a string of girls, all of them
beguiling
in some way.
What a line.
At least he hadn’t made a run for it right after his order filled. He’d talked to her for another five minutes before escaping with his cup of double-shot latte. She sighed. The man had class. And such a nice smile.

Sipping her mocha, she claimed a seat near the back amid two dozen young men with only a smattering of women sprinkled in. Many would be engineering students, some math majors, and a few had designs in scientific fields. All of them were steady, responsible people and not much fun.
Like me.

Cassie let the sweet concoction warm her tongue. The little things made life worth living and coffee was one of them. Flirting with a hunky student was another. And flirting was as daring as she’d get. Enough daydreaming.

She set her empty paper cup near her feet and opened her laptop. When she looked up, there stood the elderly professor, tapping her fingers from behind the lectern. “It’s time to begin,” she drawled. “I’m Professor Simmons and I’ll be teaching this section of your class.”

Her mind wandered as the slight, graying figure droned. If Cassie couldn’t date Medina, at least she could admire him from a distance at Starbucks. Maybe he’d get to know her over coffee and ask her out. Cassie sat up straight and grinned at the thought. He was a student, that should be respectable enough for her parents. Of course, the idea was silly, but there was nothing wrong with using her imagination as long as her feet remained on the ground.

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