Page 35 of Hercules

He pulled in again, focused on closing the last inch of space between his body and hers. No surprise about that success—until his little scribester collided into his ribs with a sound he couldn’t interpret. Not a full-out cry, yet more than a simple gasp. What…the…

While he hadn’t fully let her out of his sights, he retightened the rivets of his stare—to find she’d torqued the damn bolts already. The flames that’d just fixated him were now like fresh-fired copper, still intense and hot but malleable…vulnerable.

So damn scared…

“Listen to me.” He didn’t bend meaning on the repetition. It was a solid order now. “Lois. You won’t be alone. Even if it’s the damn North Pole, I’m not going anywh—”

She clutched all ten fingernails into his waist. “Do not tell me it’s the North Pole.”

He almost chuckled at her sarcasm—except that it wasn’t. The woman was more terrified about landing on an iceberg, even with flames topping ten feet all around them.

“It’s not the North Pole.” Because even if Apollo had more than thirty seconds to think about all this, he wouldn’t be that creative.

“Damn it, demigod.” Her grate was almost as strained as her twist into his shirt. “If you’re wrong about…”

“I’m not wrong.” But the fresh infernos in her eyes had him suddenly wishing to be. The ways he already thought about repurposing all that kindling… “And we’re both going to be okay. Okay?”

Turning it into the shouted demand wasn’t a necessity. Wasn’t like he needed the answer since she had no choice about trusting him right now—even if it came with her ear-splitting shriek and all-over shivers that had him wondering if her nervous system came with batteries.

But before his own synapses took off with that—because he remembered candlelight and gas lamps didn’t mean he’d turn down a mental trip to a well-stocked batteries rack—the wind howled louder, and Lois huddled harder against him. Her arms roped around his neck; one leg hoisted around his waist.

All by her own call.

Choosing to take his shelter.

Choosing to fully trust him.

In return, he went for a volition of his own. By scooping his other arm up, completing his circle of possession around her body. Of protection.

As Apollo turned up the power to fully lift them again, his head ducked into the curve of her neck, and his mind took off with an unignorable indictment.

Maybe things were better with her trust along for the ride.

No matter how thoroughly she kept denying it.

CHAPTER 10

“Oh my God.”

The words left Lois in a rush, exhausted as if she’d just finished a full round of planks—the stupid piking moves included—but just as relieved.

It wasn’t the North Pole. But it was damn near close to a similar surprise.

Apollo had flung them right back to the Batman-meets-Blade Runner dwelling, complete with its half-cave walls and designer lighting system. Everything was the same, down to the discarded nectar vials and bloody floor in the kitchen.

Not that the man to whom she still clung was looking that way. Correction. The man who insisted on clutching back, prodding his fingers into her back and his thumbs against her waist as she pulled back from the second her equilibrium normalized.

Whatever normal was anymore…

“Ermmm…Mr. Hercules…person…”

She shifted the top of her torso back, battling for a vibe that said decorous over deliberate. Because if her deliberation had full rule here, she’d be locking her hands to his face and demanding if this joint had a bedroom too. One where she could surrender her scepter, hoping he already knew a dozen raunchy uses for it.

Decorous, remember? Like Jiji always taught you?

A clenched sigh. Her grandmother always did find the crappiest times to barge in on every functioning thought in her skull.

In most cases, that was an advantageous thing. In this case, no freaking way. As sensical thought gave way to Jiji’s laughing smile, more basic instincts took over other awarenesses.