Chapter Two

Leia blinked. What the hell just happened? She’d had the perfect opportunity to hand him her resignation letter and she’d chickened out. Like a cowardly hen who clucked all the way into her coop to hide.

She should speak up. Right now.

She opened her mouth to do just that—

“Tell me about the trip,” is what came out instead. “Where will we be going?”

“Colorado. Rocky Mountain National Park. Specifically, we’ll be staying outside the park at the Stanley Hotel.”

She’d made a note to check the map for the closest city to fly into, probably Denver, though a private airstrip might be closer. Fort Collins perhaps. “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

She blinked. “This weekend?”

“Is that a problem?”

“I do have a life outside of this job,” she said, not that he’d pick up on the sarcasm.

He cocked his head, eyes glittering in a way she didn’t trust. “What? Hot date?”

“Something like that,” she murmured. She hadn’t been looking forward to the date anyway, if she were honest.

“You’ll have to reschedule.”

What would he do if she said duh? Ignore her probably. That was his usual reaction to her snarkier comments. She resisted the urge, not wanting a repeat of the tension from earlier.

Leia gave him a small nod. “Of course. What’s the purpose of the trip?”

Castor leaned back in his chair. “We’ll be attending a mating ceremony, so I assume they have a block of rooms reserved. You’ll want to check that.”

She lifted her head. “Mating?” That was a new one. They’d traveled to social situations before, mixing business with pleasure. “But I’m only there as your assistant. Correct?”

He crossed his arms, his muscles straining the fine material of his navy suit. “Yes.”

Leia didn’t like the dark intensity in his eyes, like a storm brewing. Something suspicious lingered there, she just had no idea what it could be. Was it extra dry in here? Where had she left her water bottle? Crap. On her desk. She could really use it about now.

The intensity honed and settled on her as he stood and came around the desk. “The wedding will be under the Banes/Canis names.”

She lowered her gaze to make a note, then the names he’d shared sank in and her head snapped up. “No.” The word punched out of her.

“What?”

“I’m not going.”

Did the sky outside darken? As a son of Zeus, Castor’s emotions were sometimes reflected in the weather, but a quick check revealed blue skies outside and his next words were softly put. “Why not?”

“I don’t go to wolf-shifter mating ceremonies.” Especially not with Castor Dioskouri.

Leia watched with trepidation as Castor leaned back against his desk, ankles crossed, seemingly at total ease. Only somehow she could tell that he was anything but. “Again, why not?” he asked.

She bit her lip but stopped when his gaze automatically dropped to follow the movement. She straightened in her chair, crossing her feet primly at the ankles, knees together. Body language that screamed keep away. Which he always had done. The body language was more for herself.

“Have you ever been to a wolf-shifter mating ceremony?” she asked.

“No.”

Huh. She would have expected that, in his long lifetime, he would’ve been to at least one. “Have you heard anything about them?”

He lifted a single eyebrow. “I’ve been around a while, Lyleia. Of course I’ve heard.”

“So, you know the pair being mated releases a pheromone which makes everyone there very…” She searched for a word appropriate to use with her boss.

“Very?”

She narrowed her eyes at the impatient snap in his voice and tried not to shift in her seat with how her body heated up. “Horny,” she bit out.

His eyebrows shot up. “I’m shocked, Ms. Naiad. I wouldn’t have expected you to know that word.”

“I am a nymph,” she pointed out drily.

Castor held up his hands. “My apologies. I forget that fact sometimes.”

Which firmly put her in her place. Most supernaturals couldn’t wait to get with a nymph, for obvious reasons. The gods had a lot to answer for with that whole giving and receiving pleasure thing. She glanced away, out the window.

“As a nymph, I’d think pheromones shouldn’t bother you.” Castor’s voice dragged her back.

Very carefully, she picked up her computer, stood up, and tucked it into the crook of her arm. “I’m not going.”

She made it to the door, only to be stopped when he placed his hand over hers on the knob. No whisper of sound reached her ears to warn her of his move, blast his demigod speed. She absorbed the heat of him through her skin, warmth traveling through her blood to pool low.

“I need a reason, Lyleia.”

She shivered as the dark, rough tones of his voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. His warm breath brushed over her cheek, his lips only a fraction of space away. What was it about this doorway today?

If she hadn’t been so keyed up, she would’ve laughed at Castor’s incredulous irritation. She wondered if the man had ever been denied anything he wanted. Instead, Leia ground her teeth.

Wolf-shifter matings were heady and hedonistic, but he was right—she could handle it under normal circumstances. However, attending one with a demigod who exuded power and sexuality was a different circumstance altogether. That she happened to have a small, apparently uncontrollable, thing for him was a recipe for disaster.

When Delilah had approached her about this job, she’d given one directive: DO NOT FALL FOR HIM.

That was it. Simple enough, to Leia’s way of thinking at the time. Delilah was a long-time friend and had known Leia’s unique qualifications to resist such a temptation. She’d successfully fended off countless gods and demigods for ages. In the gods’ heyday—now referred to as Classical Antiquity, which tickled her sense of humor since it technically made her an antique—the gods had relentlessly pursued her and her sisters and cousins. In addition, Delilah knew Leia’s history with gods. She’d picked Leia up, dusted her off, and given her a life.

Leia owed her.

However, given her feelings for him, this mating ceremony was the last place they should be together. She didn’t want Castor’s last memory of her to be breaking all his rules and throwing herself at him.

“Is it me? You don’t trust me?”

She turned her head to face him, taking in his intense blue eyes trained on her in a way that made her want to squirm. His hand still covered hers, the heat of his skin like a brand.

She tipped her chin. “I just…don’t like wolf-shifter matings.”

His strangely focused expression unsettled her. A heat lit his gaze in a way she’d never seen before, not directed her way at least. Only it couldn’t be real. She gave herself a mental slap. Snap out of it, woman. Wishful thinking gets you nowhere.

“So, you do trust me?” Something in his voice snagged at her. Like this was important to him.

She swallowed. “I trust you, Castor.” Just not herself.

He squeezed her hand. “Good. I don’t want to lose you.”

She ignored the warmth his statement sent directly to her heart. He’s talking about your work, dummy.

“And I wouldn’t push, but I need you for this,” he continued.

If she leaned the tiniest bit forward, she could kiss him. Would his kisses be as electric as everything else about him? Taste like the sky, the way he smelled? Leia swallowed down the crazy urge. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I’m attending to support a good friend on an important day in his life. However, as you’ve pointed out, things can get a little…interesting…at a wolf-shifter mating. I don’t need the complication of sex muddling things up, and you have a unique resistance to me.”

“Oh.”

“Delilah did an amazing job sending you to me. You’ve been refreshingly…err…impervious, as well as an excellent assistant.”

Leia’s heart did a decent impersonation of the Hindenburg, going up in flames as it fell to her feet. He wanted her to go with him because she didn’t want him. Message received. She cleared her throat. “Thank you. I think.”

He nodded. “I can’t go to this alone and risk doing something I’d regret. I’m asking you to protect me from all those raging pheromones. Please.”

Damn the man to Hades and back.

He’d asked nicely and given her a reason that meant helping him out in a big way. Her Achilles’ heel. Ironically, she’d known the real Achilles well and had mourned his death. The demigod had been a cousin of sorts, his mother Thetis being a sea nymph.

That had been before Leia developed her aversion to the gods.

Leia took a long breath. “Okay.”

To give him credit, he didn’t gloat. Not that he would. Instead, he looked at her closely, as though gauging her sincerity. “Okay?”

“Yes.” She drew her shoulders back. “I’ll go make our arrangements now.” And then when they got back, she’d resign.

He didn’t move away or take his hand from hers. They gazed at each other, neither seemingly willing to break the strangely intimate connection. The freshly spicy scent of him filled her yet again. She’d given him that aftershave for his birthday. Now she was both regretting and savoring the gift.

This has got to stop before we get to the mating.

“May I?” She indicated the door with a jerk of her head.

Slowly, his gaze not leaving her face, Castor stepped back.

With more haste than elegance, she yanked the door open and walked to her desk.

“You’re an angel,” he called after her.

“Or a sucker,” she muttered.

“I heard that.”

She dropped into her seat, already regretting agreeing to this. It had disaster written all over it. She needed to leave, go back into hiding, and forget she’d ever worked for Castor Dioskouri.