His hand stayed in her pants, but he eased it around to her backside, pulling her close until his arousal was pushing against her jeans. He deepened the kiss, and in the silence between them, she heard his strong and steady heart pounding in time with hers.
Yes, he had one. If he’d been interested only in getting what he wanted, he wouldn’t have bothered to pleasure her so thoroughly. Even now, after she’d had her release, when she was limp and sated, he could easily flip her to her back and drive into her without even a protest from her lips, and he knew it. But he didn’t. Instead he continued to kiss her slow and gentle, like he wanted to draw out the moment. Like she mattered to him.
She reached for the button on his pants, knowing then she was going to take him in, as deep as he wanted. Not because she needed to know if he was her soul mate, but simply because she wanted him. Because she had always wanted him.
“Yes, meli,” he purred. “Touch me. I want to feel your hands on me. However you want.”
Her pulse quickened. Her throat grew thick with desire. She was just about to dive beneath his waistband and take matters into her own hands when she heard a small voice behind her ask, “Casey? Where are you?”
Casey froze. Then common sense slammed into her, and like a guilty teenager, she scrambled off Theron’s lap and fixed her clothes. Her face heated at what she’d been about to do and how easily she’d forgotten they weren’t alone. Thank heavens for the darkness.
Flushed, Casey pushed to her feet and wobbled, all the blood rushing from her head with the sudden movement. Theron grabbed her at the arms from behind and steadied her. The man moved like a silent shadow. She hadn’t even heard him rise.
“Casey?” Marissa asked again, this time in a frightened voice.
“I’m here, honey.” Reaching out a hand, Casey crossed the room toward Marissa’s voice and finally found the child. She drew the girl into her body in a hug. “It’s all right. Everything’s fine.”
Marissa pushed Minnie against Casey’s torso. “Look! Minnie found us.”
Casey dropped to a crouch in front of the girl. “I know. Theron brought her.”
“Theron’s here?”
From across the room, the flashlight flicked on. The bright light burned Casey’s retinas for a minute, but when her vision adjusted, she looked over to see Theron standing near the far wall, looking every bit the dark and sexy hero she’d very nearly boned the hell out of only moments before.
She blushed again and quickly looked back at Marissa. The girl had a sappy smile on her face as she glanced between the two of them. The child couldn’t possibly know what they’d been up to only moments before, could she?
“I told you he’d come back for you,” Marissa said, nudging Casey with her shoulder. “The old lady with the string told me.”
Casey’s brows drew together. “The one you saw before?”
Marissa nodded.
Was the child talking about Lachesis? The Fate who drew out the life thread? Assuming Casey bought into all this freaky Greek myth stuff, if Marissa could really see into the future, maybe she knew the answer to Theron’s burning question. Maybe she could tell them right now if they were really destined to be together…
Casey took Marissa’s hand in hers. “Marissa. Honey. What else did the lady with the string tell you?”
Marissa turned a clouded gray eye on Casey. “About you?”
Casey shook her head. “No. About us. Me and Theron.”
Marissa’s stare bore into Casey, and just when Casey was about to wave her hand in front of the child’s face to break the trance she seemed to have slipped into, Marissa’s pupil expanded until there was nearly no iris left and the only thing was a gaping black hole in a sea of white. “She said you’re going to see Tartarus. And Theron is the reason you’re going.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Isadora jumped at the sharp rap against her window.
It was nearly midnight. Her latest sentry, Gryphon, was keeping guard and talking smack with anyone who ventured by. The last time Isadora had checked, he’d been flirting up a storm with the kitchen help—a young girl no more than thirty—who’d brought up Isadora’s dinner.
Isadora had heard laughing beyond her suite. And of course she’d peeked. She thought back to the way the giant blond Argonaut had twirled the gynaíka’s red hair around his finger and looked down into her eyes with that mischievous glint. And the way the girl had seemed mesmerized by him even before he’d opened his gorgeous mouth to whisper in her ear.
There was something disgustingly wrong with her world. The strongest and most virile males were the Argonauts. They also happened to be the most attractive and the most dangerous—on more than one front. Oh, she’d heard rumors about their sexual appetites and the way gynaíkes supposedly threw themselves at their feet, but she’d never had the chance to view any of it in action firsthand.