Tall, Dark and Divine (3 page)

What was she doing here? This wasn’t the kind of place sweet Annie Landon should be visiting. Not with the likes of Dionysus manning the bar.

“She hasn’t been here before,” Dion said, his eyes on her. “I think she’s looking for company.”

Eros didn’t even try to keep the growl out of his voice. “Leave her alone.”

Dion glanced at him. “Why? She isn’t one of yours.”

“Yes, she is.”

“You hiring mortals now?”

“Not that way. I’ve been trying to set her up.” Without really trying. But thinking about trying. Watching her. Thinking that she needed a man in her life, someone who’d appreciate her. She looked like the kind of woman it would be easy to appreciate. In a lot of different ways.

“Ah,” Dion said. “A client. Or a charity case?”

“Don’t call her that. She’s lonely.”

“I have the cure for that.” Dion smiled.

“She’s also looking for love. Not a quick trip upstairs to your bed.”

She wasn’t the type for something like that. But most women found it hard to resist Dion when he turned on the charm. Poor Annie Landon wouldn’t stand a chance.

“I could invite her into the snug behind the bar and take her against the wall if you prefer,” the god of debauchery said.

“I’d prefer,” Eros replied, his voice tightly controlled as he tried not to imagine just that, including those legs with the damn red shoes wrapped around Dion’s waist, “that you keep your hands off her. Along with every other body part. Not to mention your filthy mind.”

Dion grinned, and Eros added, “That one, and my girls. That’s it. It isn’t a lot to ask. You can have any other woman you want.”

“Of course I can,” Dion said.

“You know what I mean. Leave mine alone. Including her.”

“If you say so. So who are you gonna set her up with? Or are you thinking of keeping her for yourself?”

“Him,” Eros said, gesturing to Harry Mitchell, still gaping at Brita. She noticed him and Dion watching her and sent them a bright smile. Eros reflexively smiled back, but she only met his gaze for a second before sliding past him to Dion.

Dion didn’t notice. He tilted his head, still contemplating Harry. “The asshole whose tongue is hanging out?”

“All their tongues are hanging out,” Eros said fairly. “Brita has that effect.”

Although obviously not on Dion. The god of wine turned back to him. “Why would you pair that sweet little thing with a guy who’d give his entire year’s salary to get in Brita’s pants right now?”

“I think she likes him. I’ve watched her when he comes into the bakery. She smiles. And it’s not like he has a chance with Brita.”

“No,” Dion admitted. “But that seems a bit unfair, Ross.”

“Why? She’s mortal. He’s mortal. Brita’s immortal. And not interested in him. It’s obvious the two of them would make a better match.”

“When you put it like that,” Dion said, although he didn’t sound happy about it. “Are you sure I couldn’t just…?”

“I’m sure.” If Dion went anywhere near Annie Landon, even for a quickie in the snug behind the bar, he’d just ruin her for everyone else. Especially someone like Harry. Dion was a god, after all, if an annoying one. “Leave her alone. I’ll deal with her.”

He looked away from Dion and across the bar, just as Annie turned their way.

Chapter Four

Him
.

It had to be.

Annie had stood in the doorway from the hall to the bar for a couple of minutes trying to find the “Greek God” without much luck. She’d recognized Ari immediately, although the young woman didn’t look much like Annie had imagined. From Ari’s crisp, businesslike manner, Annie had pictured someone a bit older, humorless, and severe. But Ari looked no older than Annie herself, and although she was dressed in a dark suit with her hair pulled back into a tight chignon, she didn’t look stern. The suit draped over a perfect figure, with long legs and softly rounded hips—no junk in Ari’s trunk—and the rigid hairstyle only served to emphasize the exquisite beauty of her face. She was over in the corner talking to an older man, probably the Silenus they had mentioned, and when she smiled at him, she was so pretty Annie was honestly surprised the bar didn’t erupt in gasps of admiration.

Brita was playing pool; her hot pink dress easy to spot, even in the semi-darkness of the bar, and she was no less beautiful than Ari, with thick blond hair and a perfect figure. Every time she bent to take a shot, every man in the room stopped what he was doing, often mid-sentence, even with a glass or bottle halfway to his lips, to gape.

Annie recognized Harry Mitchell from the accounting firm down the street among the group in the corner. He’d come into the dog bakery a time or two, and Annie had always thought him handsome, although right now he looked ridiculous, with his mouth hanging open and his eyes threatening to pop out of his skull.

Brita’s opponent was male, but there was nothing remotely godlike about him. He was short, stout, and balding; just exactly the right height to bury his nose in Brita’s cleavage. He couldn’t possibly be the man the two women had been talking about.

As Annie—and the men—watched, Brita sent a ball skimming across the felt to slide neatly into the corner pocket. She looked up with a triumphant smile, one directed toward the bar. Annie turned that way, and that’s when she saw him.

The “Greek God.”

It had to be.

He was talking to the bartender—Dion?—and if Annie had ever seen a man who looked more like a Greek god, she didn’t know when. Unless it was Dion himself.

But where the bartender’s sex appeal was almost too much for comfort, this man—Ross?—was more classically handsome. He looked like an old statue come to life, carved in marble by a long-dead master.

His hair was short, tightly clustered black curls clinging to a perfectly shaped skull, just long enough to brush his collar in the back. Unlike Dion, with his leather pants and soft poet’s shirt, Ross was dressed in average, everyday business wear. The crisp white shirt, open at the neck, fit snugly across his shoulders, and the dark slacks draped long legs and what looked like an outstanding ass. He had a matching suit jacket negligently draped over the stool next to him. And the face—good Lord, the face! That might as well have been carved in marble, too, with its high cheekbones and strong jaw, plus a mouth that looked like it was made specially for kissing. Soft and firm at the same time, and perfectly shaped.

Annie knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help it. He was gorgeous. Mind-blowingly beautiful. The best-looking man she’d ever seen. Even Dion paled by comparison.

She couldn’t possibly try to pick him up. Dumped or not, lonely or not, there was no way he’d look twice at her. Not a guy like him.

And that’s when he did just that. Caught her eye and held it for a moment, before his gaze drifted south. She could feel him linger on her breasts and then on her shoes for a second before coming up to meet her gaze again.

She was on her way across the floor before she had any inkling that she was moving. It was like he’d shot an arrow straight across the room and into her, and now he was reeling her in.

The chair next to his was empty—not the one with the jacket on it, the one on the other side. She scooted up, her cheeks flushing as both men turned to look at her. “Hi. I’m Annie.”

Her voice came out breathy, Marilyn Monroe–style. Not because she was trying to sound seductive, but because the dual attention of the two best-looking men she’d ever seen was literally taking her breath away.

Up close, they were both too handsome for words. She’d already gotten an eyeful of Dion when she’d sat at the bar tossing back Cosmopolitans earlier, but his friend… Wow.

Just wow.

“Hi,” he said now, in a voice like melting chocolate, the perfect complement to those deep brown eyes surrounded by the longest, darkest, most luxurious eyelashes she’d ever seen. Most women would happily sell their souls for lashes like those. “I’m Eros.”

Eros. Not Ross.

“Like the Greek god?”

He smiled, those perfect lips curving, and Annie forgot to breathe. “Yes. Exactly like that.”

“Wow. I mean… Nice to meet you. I’m Annie.” She stuck out a hand.

He took it, his own hard and warm. “I know. You said.”

She had?

Oh, yeah. She had.

Way to go, Annie
.

“And I’m Dion,” the bartender said, appropriating her hand for himself. Instead of shaking it or even just holding it the way Eros had done, he lifted it to his lips. And instead of merely kissing it—at least it seemed that way—he brushed his lips over her knuckles, lingering for a bit longer than strictly necessary. Not that she minded, really. It wasn’t something anyone would mind. Although Eros seemed to. He scowled at Dion, who grinned and let go of Annie’s hand, albeit not without a wink. “Who are you having, sweet cheeks?”

Who
was she having?

As she blinked, unsure how to respond, Dion grinned. “Another Cosmo?”

“Please.” A shot of liquid courage might not hurt. The little bit of nerve she’d started with had flown out the window as soon as she’d made it within drooling distance of Eros. And after what she thought she’d heard Dion say, she’d take any help she could get in gaining her equilibrium back. She’d already managed to wedge her foot in her mouth, and at the moment she was too worried about saying something else stupid to dare say anything at all. Yet if she didn’t speak, she’d never talk him into going home with her.

“Here you go, sugar lips. Drink up.” Dion placed the pink concoction on the bar in front of her. Annie took a cautious sip and managed, just barely, to keep from coughing. He’d gone heavy on the vodka and triple sec and very light on the cranberry juice, and the result was that the Cosmopolitan had a bit more kick than the two she’d already had.

“Thank you,” she managed.

“The pleasure’s all mine.” He gave her another grin and slid a glance in Eros’s direction. The other man was stonily looking straight ahead. Obviously he was less than pleased about her showing up. Maybe Ari was right and he wasn’t ready to move on. Or maybe he’d been hoping for someone prettier. Annie took another swig of the Cosmo and avoided Dion’s glance.

Everything was quiet for a moment, until the bartender cleared his throat.

“S’cuse me a minute,” he said. “I see someone I know. I’ll be right back.”

He walked away. Annie watched as he headed across the floor, hips rolling and muscles moving smoothly under the thin fabric of his shirt, before turning back to her drink and to Eros, who said, “Stay away from him.”

Chapter Five

A sip of the Cosmopolitan must have gone down the wrong way because she started coughing. And kept coughing, even after he patted her back. She was firm but not bony, her skin warm through the black dress.

Eventually, she waved him off and got herself under control. When she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes. Pretty eyes. Blue. “What did you say?” she croaked.

“He isn’t your type.”

She cleared her throat. “And I suppose you are?”

“No.”

The word was out before he realized what it sounded like, the rejection too quick and too definite. She blinked, almost as if he’d hit her, and hurt flashed in her eyes.

Idiot
. Giving himself a hard mental kick, Eros added, “Dion’s a womanizer. All he’s looking for is a quick fuck.” She blinked again. This time it was probably his language. She seemed like a nice woman, red fuck-me heels not withstanding, so maybe he should watch his mouth. “He’s not the type you’re looking for.”

“How do you know what I’m looking for? Maybe a quick—” She faltered, then forged ahead. “Fuck is just what I want.”

It was adorable, the way her cheeks colored. “You blush when you say fuck,” Eros said. “Trust me on this. Dion’s not what you want.”

She opened her mouth but seemed to reconsider, because she closed it again. “I assumed you were friends.”

“We are. I’ve known him since the beginning of time.” No joke, even if it sounded like one. “That’s how I know exactly what he’s like.”

“You don’t know me,” Annie pointed out.

“Sure I do.”

She blinked. And reached for the Cosmo to take another sip. Dion must have mixed it stronger than usual because he could see her cheeks heat. The tip of her tongue came out to run along her top lip. “How?” she asked.

He moved his gaze up to her eyes, forgetting for a moment what they’d been talking about. “Excuse me?”

“You said you know me. How?”

Oh. “You work in the dog bakery on Steinway. My office is across the street.”

“The law office?”

He shook his head and watched the realization dawn in her eyes. They widened. “The matchmaking agency?”

He nodded. And waited for her to speak. When she did, it wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. “Unusual job for a man. But I guess with a name like yours, you didn’t have much choice.”

Not really, no. Although not for the reason she imagined.

She added, “How come I haven’t seen you before?”

“You haven’t worked there very long.”

“Two years.”

Well, yes. In human terms, that was a long time.

“I don’t get out much.” Eros shrugged.

She nodded sympathetically. Opened her mouth and then seemed to think better of it. Her cheeks colored again.

“What?”

She shook her head. And took another sip of the Cosmo. And coughed.

“Maybe you should go easy on the drinks,” Eros said.

She swiped at her eyes again. “Because I can’t hold my liquor?”

That. And: “Because Dion seems to have mixed that one with rocket fuel. I don’t want to have to carry you home and pour you into bed.”

There was a beat of silence where all she did was stare at him, while Eros wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

“I thought you said I wasn’t your type,” Annie said eventually.

“Actually, I said I wasn’t yours.” Although she wasn’t his, either. Another mortal. Innocent, fragile, impressionable, beautiful…and tipsy. No way. “But someone has to make sure you get home safely.”

“I can take care of myself,” Annie said. “I’m twenty-eight years old. I’ve been on my own a long time.”