Pan's Conquest (Entangled Covet) (8 page)

A current of emotion threatened to overwhelm Pan, and he reached into his pocket for the second thing before he lost his composure entirely. “He gave me these.”

Daniel took the box and opened it. His face softened. “My parents’ wedding rings. I was wondering where he’d put them.”

“You should have them. Not me.”

“No. My father gave them to you for a reason.” He closed the box and gave it back to Pan. “You keep them.”

“But I may never have a use for them.” With his words, Syrinx’s head jerked upright. Although she was at the other end of the cemetery, she could still hear every word they said. She was a river nymph after all. Pan cringed slightly with the naked truth.

“And you think I do?” Daniel chuckled ironically. “I’m a businessman. I’m married to my office, and that’s how I want it to be.”

The old Pan would have identified with him—the eternal bachelor—yet the new Pan suddenly saw his career as an empty life.
What’s getting into me?

He shouldn’t judge. Gallivanting around without a care to the consequences and looking for a new conquest each dawn wasn’t exactly a fulfilling life, either, now that he thought about it.

“Keep the rings.” Daniel handed him the box. “My father was not a random man. He always knew what he was doing.”

Chapter Ten
Desired

Pan collapsed on his bed, pulling his tie from his neck. Rutherford’s funeral had been the longest day of his existence. For the first time, maidens were the least of his priorities. Even Syrinx.

He’d said good-night to her at the dinner, leaving early to crash in his room with his tumultuous thoughts. He was grateful she came with him, but tonight, all he wanted to do was be alone.

“All this time in the mortal realm has made you weak and pitiful like a limp, dead riverweed pulled from its roots.”

Pan jumped at the sound of Coral’s voice. He sat up on his bed, and she emerged from the shadows in the corner of the room. He should have smelled her fishy scent a mile away, but his grief had blocked his senses. “You have no right to be here.”

She ran her fingers up and down the post of his bed. “I can be wherever I want. I’m a god, remember? And you’re one, too. You’re just not acting like it.”

“Won’t you just leave me alone?”

She inched closer, the hem of her tattered river reed dress brushing against the edge of the bed. “Look at you. Crying over some old, dead mortal, driving cars to fit in…”

He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. The way she talked about Rutherford angered him. “It was you, wasn’t it? You sent that deer into the road.”

She gave him a devious little smile. “It’s not like I could harm either one of you.”

“You shouldn’t get involved in the affairs of others.” He teased her with a cruel grin. “Don’t you have a fishnet to weave?”

Her smile faded into bitterness. “I wanted to put an end to your little game. It’s drawn out long enough. Why don’t you just take Syrinx and be done with it?”

“Why do you care?”

She slithered close to him, her dress falling on his legs. “I want to have my time with you when this is all done.”

He stayed perfectly still despite the urge to pull away. “What makes you think I’d want you?”

She traced her finger up his chest and played with the top button of his shirt. “You’re Pan, the god of fertility. It’s your duty to fulfill every female’s dream.”

Pan rolled off the bed, putting distance between them. She made him feel like some dirty male prostitute. The old Pan wouldn’t have blinked an eye at her assumption, but the new Pan found her offer detestable. “I’m a god, remember? I can do whatever I want.”

“But you have a reputation to uphold.”

“How I uphold it is none of your business. I don’t need you to feel complete.” He didn’t need any of those other maidens. All he really needed was Syrinx.

Coral retreated to the window. “I shouldn’t have told you where she’d gone. She’s changed you, made you into something you’re not.”

A gentle knock interrupted their argument.

Syrinx.
Who else could it be? He had to get Coral out of there.

“I don’t care what you think of me. Go home and tell all your friends about how Pan has reformed. Make a few jokes at my expense.” The only opinion he did care about lay behind that door, and Coral’s presence would ruin everything.

Coral stood on the windowsill, unlocking the window. “She’ll break your heart in the end, and I won’t be there to pick up the pieces.” She dropped over the edge and disappeared into the night.

The gentle knock came again.

Thank goodness river nymphs weren’t known for their fortune-telling powers. Pan jogged to the door. He took one look behind him to make sure Coral hadn’t left any water imprints, then smoothed over his shirt and answered the door.

Syrinx stood outside. She’d changed from her black dress to cute floral pajamas. Her white-blond hair was tied into a ponytail behind her. With her tank top exposing just enough of her abs, she could have been the ultimate workout video instructor. Syrinx doing yoga? He’d watch that.

She hugged herself modestly. “I came to check on you and make sure you’re all right.”

Pan studied her with adoration. So compassionate. So perfect. “I’m fine. It’s just a lot to take in. No one close to me has ever died.” Which was the truth. When all your friends were gods, you never went to a funeral.

She touched his arm. “I’ve never had anyone close to me pass away, either. I can’t imagine how it feels to lose someone.”

Pan sighed, feeling as if he could talk to her about anything—except his identity. “It’s like I had all these things I wanted to tell him, to ask him, stored up inside of me, but they didn’t come out until it was too late.”

“It’s a hard lesson to learn to appreciate those around you.”

Pan took her hand in his. “I appreciate you.”

She blushed prettily. “I’m glad I can help.”

He pulled her close. After Coral’s visit, he needed her more than ever. “You do more than help.”

Instead of fighting him, she melted into his touch and lifted her head to meet his gaze. She’d come to him. This was her choice. Pan leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, testing her. She responded with a deeper kiss of her own, her hands traveling up his neck to weave through his hair. Her touch made him forget about the grief he couldn’t deal with yet. He needed her—not to fulfill his playboy status or to uphold his reputation. He needed her to comfort him, to make the pain of the day go away.

He pulled her into his room, never breaking the kiss. His hands roamed down her slender back to rest on her small waist. His grip tightened as the want built inside him. With his free foot, he kicked the door closed.

They tumbled onto his bed and rolled until he was on top. He pressed his body against hers and laid kisses down her neck. Syrinx gasped with his touch, encouraging him.

Rutherford’s words from a previous discussion they’d had came back to him as if the old man were a ghost whispering in his ear.
You can be whomever you want to be, Mr. Thomas. It’s your actions that define who you are. Not others’ preconceived notions. The people who matter the most should know who you really are—the true you.

Pan pulled back. Syrinx had grown closer to him than any other woman he’d known, but she still didn’t know the
true
him, who he really was inside and out along with his secret identity, his lustful past. This was disrespectful to Rutherford, to Syrinx, and to all he believed in. Rutherford had asked everyone at the funeral to continue his work, and Pan was blatantly disregarding everything Rutherford had taught him.

“What’s the matter?” Syrinx blinked as if waking from a trance, which made him feel all the more guilty. The last thing he wanted to do was have her regret this decision in the morning, to lose her forever because of his own sense of urgency.

Pan caressed her cheek with his fingertips. “We can’t do this here. Not here, not right now.”

Syrinx’s eyes focused as though she saw clearly for the first time. “You’re right. I don’t know what came over me.” She wiggled out from under him and stood on the opposite side of the bed.

Pan’s whole body ached where she’d once touched. What was he doing? He’d never stopped a romantic encounter before. Pride rushed through him, along with a newfound sense of responsibility.
I’m being a gentleman, something I’ve never been before.

Syrinx rushed to the door, glancing away with embarrassment. “I’m sorry I came to stop by.”

“No, wait.” He chased after her. “Don’t be sorry.”

But he was too late. She’d already opened the door and was on her way to her room.

Guilt hit him in the gut. He grabbed her arm before she walked into her room. “It’s not that I don’t want you.”

She pulled away, slipping out of his grasp. “I know. I’m upset with myself.”

He touched her face. “This is nothing you should be ashamed of.”

“Just leave me alone. You can’t understand.” She moved to close the door.

Pan stood frozen. His secret wasn’t the only one getting in the way. She had her own god of chastity status to contend with, and she didn’t think he knew about it.

Before he could formulate any response, she shut the door in his face.

What have I done?

Pan stared at her closed door. Maybe Coral was right. He’d fallen hard, and there was no way for them to be together with both their secrets hidden. Neither one could carry on with this forever. There the quandary lay. By telling her his secret, he’d surely lose her for good.

…

Syrinx collapsed against her door, sliding to the floor. Why the hell did she go over to Parker Thomas’s room after dinner? Sure, she was concerned for him. But her urge to see him again ran deeper than that. After he’d left her at the table talking to Rutherford’s niece and nephew, all she could do was think about him.

She’d thought, with only two doors between them, he’d make a move and invite her to his room, or come to hers. But he didn’t. Her door lay silent, and she sat in her pajamas watching the garden channel on television with great disappointment.

It seemed as though he’d desired her every moment since he met her. Every moment except for that night, and his lack of interest ate away at her until she couldn’t stand it any longer. Until she found herself knocking on
his
door.

Syrinx breathed deeply, calming herself. She needed to get away, get some perspective. There was only one person close to her well-schooled in these matters. But she didn’t have much time. Kaye expected her home the next day, and Mount Olympus wasn’t ruled by the time in the mortal world.

Syrinx started to dress and pack her things. She’d leave a note for Parker in the morning saying she had to take a taxi and leave early. That would give her time and save her from the awkward ride back home. With a snap, her suitcase was full, and her sweater and skinny jeans were on. In another snap, she disappeared, leaving no trace she’d ever walked through the castle in the clouds.

Chapter Eleven
A Mortal’s Love

Syrinx climbed the grassy knoll, scanning the tree-studded meadows of
Norviliškes
,
Lithuania
. She held her hooded cloak around her face against the breeze. A single figure sat on the hilltop eating an apple, her Renaissance gown spread around her legs like a golden cloud upon the earth. A black stallion with a leather saddle trimmed in rubies whinnied by her side.

Of course. She always lives grand.

The woman waved as Syrinx approached, but Syrinx was not in the mood for polite conversation. “Do you know
the lengths I had to go to find you here, in the eighteenth century?”

Saturnia laughed and bit off another piece of her apple. “Come now, sis, where is the fun in staying in the same place all the time?”

Syrinx put both hands on her hips. “What are you doing here?”

Her sister gestured toward a castle with two grand turrets on either side claiming the horizon. “Paying a visit to the monastery.”

“And why would you want to go to a monastery?”

Saturnia grinned. “To test the monks’ resolve.”

Syrinx turned away. She’d chosen the wrong person to go to for advice. She was wasting her time.

“Wait.” Saturnia’s expression grew serious. “Why are you here? I thought you’d be tending plants in your greenhouse, listening to new age music on your device. What do those futuristic people call it? Ah yes, an iPod.”

Syrinx glanced down at the monastery, watching a robed bald man trim the bushes. “I need your advice.”

“My advice?” Saturnia chuckled. “Now that’s a first.”

“I know.” Syrinx plopped down beside her. “I can’t believe I’m here.”

Saturnia looked offended. “Why? You don’t think I have any good advice to offer?”

Syrinx shrugged. “We’ve never wanted the same things.”

Saturnia looked in her eyes as if she saw something there that hadn’t been there before. “Until now?”

“Maybe.” Syrinx plucked a strand of grass. “There’s this mortal I’ve been seeing. He’s a client of my flower shop. We went on a few dates. Well, actually only on one real date. The funeral didn’t count.” She realized she was rambling and shut her mouth.

“And you want to know if this mortal is worth your love?”

Syrinx nodded.

Saturnia finished off her apple and fed the core to the stallion. “Only you can answer that.”

“I guess I don’t know him well enough. He’s handsome—he could rival one of the gods at Mount Olympus—he’s definitely into me, and we have a lot in common. But I’m not sure if a relationship between a god and mortal would work, or if it is worth giving up everything I’ve ever stood for, giving up my identity, the essence of who I am.”

“Good gods, your chastity is special, but it’s not who you are.” Saturnia looked her up and down, as if trying to sum her up. “You’re a botanist and a florist, you enjoy poetry and movies, you like fishing, hiking, and running a business. You love your sister, even though you act like you hate her, and for years you tried to save mortals from drowning in your river. Most of all, you’re half river nymph, like our mother. You’re dependable, compassionate, hardworking, and sincere—everything that I’m not.” Saturnia pointed at her. “That’s who you are, and no man can take that away.”

Syrinx thought about her words. She had to remember she was talking to the goddess of lust. “I guess you’re right.”

Saturnia clutched her arm and shook her. “What are you afraid of?”

Syrinx spoke before she could think about it. “I don’t want to end up like you.”

Saturnia turned away, but not before Syrinx could see the hurt tingeing her sister’s lovely face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s the truth.” Saturnia waved her off and wiped a tear from her cheek. “It’s what I chose for myself. But you don’t have to be like me. One mortal will hardly make you a goddess of lust. Especially if what you have is special, if he’s the right one.” Her sister turned back toward her. “You have to take chances to love, or else you’ll never love at all.”

Syrinx had never heard her sister speak of love, yet here she was, speaking as if she had firsthand knowledge. Syrinx searched her sister’s perfect face. “Have you ever loved?”

Saturnia walked down the meadow to where four horses pulled a cartload of supplies along the dirt road. She laughed bitterly. “A mortal, like yourself. A long, long time ago. Before you were born.”

Syrinx had lived for eons, so the world before she was born seemed like such a small, uneventful place. Until now. “What happened?”

Saturnia shrugged. “He died. And I vowed to never love again. Not in the same way I loved him.”

Her sister suddenly had more depth than she thought. “And that’s why you became the goddess of lust?”

“It was either that or go the other way, and chastity wasn’t for me.”

Syrinx sat back, digesting this new information. “I’m so sorry. You never mentioned him.”

“Why should I? It was so long ago. And you never asked.” Saturnia brushed grass off her gown. “I have to be going. Can’t keep them waiting all day.”

Syrinx knew her sister well enough to know the conversation was over. She’d hit a sore topic, and Saturnia would never speak of it again.

“Thank you for all of your advice.” Syrinx watched as Saturnia mounted her stallion.

“You’re welcome.” Her sister turned toward the monastery and kicked the horse. As she rode down the hill, she called over her shoulder. “You have a good head on your shoulders. You won’t end up like me.”

…

Syrinx appeared in her shop just as Kaye fumbled with the lock for the front door. She grabbed the first empty pot she could and raced behind the counter. By the time Kaye opened the door, Syrinx was replanting a flat of lavender impatiens.

“Good morning, Kaye.”

Kaye gave her an exasperated sigh. “Do you ever sleep?”

“Sometimes.” Syrinx scanned the store. “Looks like you kept the place in order.”

Kaye walked over and shoved her purse under the cash register. “It was easy considering we had all of ten customers yesterday.”

Syrinx narrowed her eyes as she glanced out the window towards the woods surrounding the greenhouse. “Any strange pots tumbled over? Any break-in?”

“No. Must have been a raccoon that one time.” She looked Syrinx up and down and narrowed her eyes as if she couldn’t discern anything about what she really wanted to know. “How was the funeral?”

“Sad.” Syrinx busied herself with the group of impatiens. “Parker really took Rutherford’s death hard.”

Kaye nudged her with her elbow. “I’m sure you cheered him up.”

Syrinx wasn’t sure if she had made things any easier or made the whole trip worse. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well, the party’s still on, right? Because I ordered a crapload of baby’s breath to go along with the roses.”

Syrinx hadn’t thought of that. “I would assume so. He hasn’t spoken otherwise.”

“Good.” Kaye took the replanted impatiens and put them on the sale rack out front. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You’re looking forward to doing all that work?”

“No. To going.”

“Kaye, you know we never go to our clients’ events. It’s unprofessional.”

Her assistant walked over to the countertop and pulled out an envelope from yesterday’s mail. “That may be the case with most clients. But what if we were invited?”

Syrinx took the envelope and opened it. A golden invitation addressed by Rutherford had both her and Kaye’s names on it. “This is impossible, this is from Rutherford.”

“It’s not impossible.” Kaye touched the envelope gently. “Rutherford must have sent it before he died. You know how slow the mail’s been lately.”

Syrinx tore open the envelope.

We formally request the presence of Sylvia Rain and Kaye Underhill at the Rose Gala on Saturday, July twenty-first, at seven thirty p.m.

She smoothed her hand over the old man’s shaky writing. “We can’t go.”

“We have to go. He’s our best customer, Sylvie. Besides, you don’t want to ignore Rutherford’s dying wish.”

Syrinx’s stomach dropped. Kaye was right. Which meant she had to sort out everything with Parker before the party. When three hundred roses were involved, the last thing she needed on her mind was an awkward confrontation. “All right. But no drinking on the job.”

“We’re not
on the job
at that point. The flowers will be set up long before the party even starts. Our job will be done. Come on, Sylvie, it’s going to be an open bar.”

Just as Syrinx opened her mouth to respond, the bells jingled on top of the door. Parker Thomas walked in.

Kaye muttered under her breath. “Speaking of the devil, here he is now.”

Syrinx’s heart fell to her tennis shoes. When she’d said she needed to make amends, she didn’t mean this very minute. She still had no idea what she was going to say about that night, or the reason why she left so early the next day.

Kaye spoke for her, walking around the countertop to greet him. “Why, Mr. Thomas! We weren’t expecting you. Do you want to look at your roses again?”

“No.” His eyes drifted to Syrinx in a longing, melancholy look, then back to Kaye. “I’m here to speak with Sylvia.”

Kaye raised her eyebrow. “Absolutely. I’ll leave you two alone, then.” Pretending to busy herself by grabbing a few partially finished bouquets, she disappeared out back.

Parker approached the counter with an apology in his eyes. “I’m sorry to bother you. I just wanted to make sure you made it back safely.”

Syrinx rolled a pen over and over in both hands.
Could have done that with a phone call.
But here he was, standing in front of her in all his hunky glory looking oh so desirable. “I’m fine. I just need more time to figure things out.”

“I know.” He placed both hands on the countertop between them and leaned in as though he was going to kiss her. He stopped short of her lips, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve come on too strong. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not you.” Syrinx put the pen down and placed her hands over his. “It’s me.”

“Why don’t we start over and take things more slowly? How about develop a friendship?”

Syrinx breathed with relief. This man was too good to be true. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Good.” He smiled. “Then I have an offer for you and for Kaye.”

Syrinx showed him the envelope. “I already got your invitation.”

Parker blinked as if confused. “How did you get that?”

Syrinx cursed her insensitivity. Of course he’d ask. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I really thought this was what you were referring to.” She handed him the envelope. “Rutherford sent it.”

Parker took the envelope and ran his fingers along the writing. “I didn’t ask him to.”

Actually, maybe it was a good thing she brought it up. Better be embarrassed now than at the party when she and Kaye showed up dressed for the occasion. “So you had no idea he invited us?”

“Nope.”

Syrinx shook her head. “Then you don’t want us to go.”

“No, that’s not it at all. It would be wonderful if you and Kaye came to the party. I was going to ask you myself. It seems Rutherford beat me to the punch.” Parker studied the writing on the envelope.

Syrinx didn’t know whether to be happy or frustrated. How was she ever going to figure things out if she kept seeing him? But she wasn’t about to argue with him. The way Parker stared at Rutherford’s writing eclipsed her other concerns. “You can keep the envelope if you want. I don’t mind.”

“No, no, no.” He placed the envelope back on the countertop. It took him a few moments to collect himself. “As part of our new friendship, I was wondering if you and Kaye would like to join me for some bowling followed by some ice cream?”

Syrinx smiled. He remembered. That was exactly what she’d suggested after their first date. “I’d love to. I just have to ask Kaye—”

“Count me in!” Kaye waltzed in holding two hanging flower arrangements. “I love bowling. I may not be good at it, but I love it.”

Here Kaye was, eavesdropping again. Syrinx gave her an admonishing look. “All done with your work back there?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t hear anything secret. I only heard the last part as I was bringing these in.” She winked at Syrinx, but Syrinx wasn’t totally sure she believed her.

Parker, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind her eavesdropping at all. “Great! Meet you at Bowl-O-Rama Friday night, let’s say six?”

“Friday? That’s the night before the party.” Syrinx always liked to get to bed early the day before her floral gigs.

Parker narrowed his eyes mischievously. “Won’t you have everything already set by then?”

“Yes. We will.” Kaye answered for her. “We’ll see you at six o’clock sharp.”

Parker smiled and walked to the door. “And bring your bowling shoes.”