Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Or Ixion ran his fingers through it.
Ixion gives me a smirk as if he has a better claim to the woman I married than I do. The fact that he might be right nearly has me reaching for the gun in my shoulder holster. I can even see what she finds attractive about him—he’s a white man with short blond hair, a neatly trimmed mustache, and the kind of muscular body that one gets from a life of work. The mustache alone should write him off, but he’s a handsome fucker and charming enough to make it work for him.
I hold his gaze for long enough that a bright pink takes up residence in his cheeks. Only then do I speak. “Get out.”
Ixion doesn’t immediately obey. He looks to her first, waiting for her nod, then rising easily to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early.” She even manages a smile for him, which is more than I ever get from her. “Have a good night.”
“You too.” He doesn’t shoulder check me as he walks past, but he clearly wants to. I let him have my back as I listen to him walk down the hall to the door. When Hera acquired her trio, I had Apollo look into them. They all held exemplary records with Athena before they resigned and came to Hera. There was literally nothing to criticize, no good reason to step in and demand she retain the guards I handpicked for her instead.
It irritates me deeply.
“Zeus.” I hadn’t realized there was warmth in her tone for him until there’s none for me. “You’re home late.”
If I were a better man, I wouldn’t relish the thread of jealousy beneath her question. It’s faint enough that I’m not entirely certain it’s real, but I want it to be real. I want Hera to care enough to worry about whose bed I might be spending time in. Because of that weakness, I can’t bring myself to address it directly. “And you had Ixion here late.” I make a show of looking at my watch. “He must be costing a fortune in overtime.”
“You have no idea.” Her hazel eyes flash. “Take a shower. You’re not coming straight from someone else’s bed to mine.”
“You first, Wife.”
“Gladly.” She’s off the couch and across the room in seconds, disappearing through the doorway leading deeper into the penthouse.
Hera represents another failure in my year as Zeus. Marrying her accomplished my goal of getting Demeter and her formidable alliances on my side, but if I had tentative hopes of this marriage being a true partnership—let alone something more—they died on my wedding night. My home has since turned into a battleground again, each interaction another fight in an ongoing war. Sharing a bed? It’s just another facet of that.
I should deny her. She’s actively trying to orchestrate my death and I highly doubt that the most recent failure will set her back for long. Letting her be close enough to access me when I sleep is foolhardy to the point of being suicidal. Having sex with her is even worse. Even knowing exactly how intensely she wants me dead, I…forget myself.
Knowing that doesn’t stop me from walking to the spare bedroom and taking a quick shower. It isn’t enough to keep me from pulling on a pair of shorts and padding barefoot across the hallway to the primary bedroom. Opening the door allows a sliver of light into the darkness. Hera has pulled the curtains already; can’t entertain even the slightest possibility that someone might see what happens in our perfect darkness.
She steps out of the bathroom, a silk robe wrapped around her lithe body. She meets my gaze boldly and reaches without looking to shut off the light. My breathing feels unnaturally loud as I move unerringly toward the bed. Toward Hera. The faint slither of her robe dropping down her body to the floor makes me so hard it’s difficult to think. It’s always like this. No matter how cold we are in the daylight hours, no matter what violence her plots entail, in the dark all I can think about is the feel of her, the way she tastes on my tongue.
It’s because of that desperation that I hold back. That I have to hold back. I have to be sure. “Hera.”
“Gods, you are unbearable.”
I ignore that. “Say yes.”
“I’m naked and waiting in your bed, you utter bastard. Get over here and do your husbandly duties so I can get some sleep.”
When we were married, we signed a contract explicitly spelling out that an heir and a spare are required, but she demanded a full twelve months before actively attempting to get pregnant. I was more than happy to oblige that particular demand. Hades already has an heir on the way, which creates pressure for me to do the same, but there are few horrors I can imagine beyond forcing a pregnancy on a person, so even after the year is up, I’ll wait for Hera to decide for herself that she’s ready to stop taking her birth control.