'Is this from another of your local artisans?'
'An old friend in Tacoma made it.' Erik reached into the case and took the choker out for me, laying it on the counter. I ran my hands over the fine, smooth pearls, each one slightly irregular in shape. 'He mixed some Egyptian influence in with it, I think, but he wanted to sort of invoke the spirit of Aphrodite and the sea, create something the ancient priestesses might have worn.'
'They wore nothing so fine,' I murmured, turning over the necklace, noting the high price on its tag. I found myself speaking without conscious thought. 'And many of the ancient Greek cities did have Egyptian influence. Ankhs appeared on Cyprian coins, as did Aphrodite.'
Touching the copper of the ankh reminded me of another necklace, a necklace long since lost under the dust of time. That necklace had been simpler: only a string of beads etched with tiny ankhs. But my husband had brought it to me the morning of our wedding, sneaking up to our house just after dawn in a gesture uncharacteristically bold for him.
I had chastised him for the indiscretion. 'What are you doing? You're going to see me this afternoon... and then every day after that!'
'I had to give you these before the wedding.' He held up the string of beads. 'They were my mother's. I want you to have them, to wear them today.'
He leaned forward, placing the beads around my neck. As his fingers brushed my skin, I felt something warm and tingly run through my body. At the tender age of fifteen, I hadn't exactly understood such sensations, though I was eager to explore them. My wiser self today recognized them as the early stirrings of lust, and... well, there had been something else there too. Something else that I still didn't quite comprehend. An electric connection, a feeling that we were bound into something bigger than ourselves. That our being together was inevitable.
'There,' he'd said, once the beads were secure and my hair brushed back into place. 'Perfect.'
He said nothing else after that. He didn't need to. His eyes told me all I needed to know, and I shivered. Until Kyriakos, no man had ever given me a second glance. I was Marthanes ' too-tall daughter after all, the one with the sharp tongue who didn't think before speaking. (Shape-shifting would eventually take care of one of those problems but not the other.) But Kyriakos had always listened to me and watched me like I was someone more, someone tempting and desirable, like the beautiful priestesses of Aphrodite who still carried on their rituals away from the Christian priests.
I wanted him to touch me then, not realizing just how much until I caught his hand suddenly and unexpectedly. Taking it, I placed it around my waist and pulled him to me. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't pull back. We were almost the same height, making it easy for his mouth to seek mine out in a crushing kiss. I leaned against the warm stone wall behind me so that I was pressed between it and him. I could feel every part of his body against mine, but we still weren't close enough. Not nearly enough.
Our kissing grew more ardent, as though our lips alone might close whatever aching distance lay between us. I moved his hand again, this time to push up my skirt along the side of one leg. His hand stroked the smooth flesh there and, without further urging, slid over to my inner thigh. I arched my lower body toward his, nearly writhing against him now, needing him to touch me everywhere.
'Letha? Where are you at?'
My sister's voice carried over the wind; she wasn't nearby but was close enough to be here soon. Kyriakos and I broke apart, both gasping, pulses racing. He was looking at me like he'd never seen me before. Heat burned in his gaze.
'Have you ever been with anyone before?' he asked won- deringly.
I shook my head.
'How did you... I never imagined you doing that...'
'I learn fast.'
He grinned and pressed my hand to his lips. 'Tonight,' he breathed. 'Tonight we...'
'Tonight,' I agreed.
He backed away then, eyes still smoldering. 'I love you. You are my life.'
'I love you too.' I smiled and watched him ago. A minute later, I heard my sister again.
'Letha?'
'Miss Kincaid?'
Erik's voice snapped me out of the memory, and suddenly I was back in his store, away from my family's long-since crumbled home. I met his questioning eyes and held up the necklace.
'I'll take this too.'
'Miss Kincaid,' he said uncertainly, fingering the price tag. 'The help I give you... there's no need... no cost...'
'I know,' I assured him. 'I know. Just add this to my bill. And ask your friend if he can make matching earrings.'
I left the store wearing the choker, still thinking about that morning, what it had been like to be touched for the first time, touched only by someone I loved. I exhaled carefully and put it from my mind. Just like I had countless other times.
CHAPTER 9
Returning to Queen Anne, I discovered I still had a lot of evening left. Unfortunately, I had nothing to do. A succubus without a social life. Very sad. It was made sadder still by the fact that I could have had any number of things to do but had dropped the ball on them. Certainly Doug had asked me out often enough; no doubt he was now enjoying his day off with a more appreciative woman. Roman I had also turned down, beautiful eyes and all. I smiled wistfully, remembering his easy banter and quick, bright charm. He could have been O'Neill, made flesh from Seth's novels.
Thinking of Seth reminded me he still had my book and that I was going on Day 3 without it. I sighed, wanting to know what would happen next, to be lost in the pages of Cady and O'Neill. Now that would have been a way to spend the evening. The bastard. He'd never bring it back. I'd never find out what—
With a groan, I suddenly wanted to smack my forehead for my own stupidity. Did I or did I not work for a large bookstore? After parking my car, I walked over to Emerald City and found the massive display of
'Will you demagnetize this for me?' I asked her, sliding the book over the counter.
'Sure,' she said, running it across the pad. 'Are you using your discount on it?'
I shook my head. 'I'm not buying it. I'm just borrowing it.'
'Can you do that?' She passed the book back to me.
'Sure,' I lied. 'Managers can.'
Minutes later, I showed my prize to an unimpressed Aubrey and turned on the water in my bathtub. While it filled, I checked my messages—none—and sorted through the mail I'd picked up on the way in. Nothing interesting there either. Satisfied nothing else required my attention, I stepped out of my clothes and sank into the watery depths of the tub, careful not to get the book wet. Aubrey, crouching on a nearby counter, watched me with squinty eyes, apparently pondering why anyone would willingly immerse themselves in water ever, let alone for extended periods of time.
I figured I could read more than five pages tonight since I'd been deprived for the last couple of days. When I finished the fifteenth, I discovered I was three pages from the next chapter. Might as well end with a clean break. After I was done, I sighed and leaned back, feeling decadent and spent. Pure bliss. Books were a lot less messy than orgasms.
The next morning, I went to work, happy and refreshed. Paige found me around lunchtime as I sat on the edge of my desk and watched Doug play Mine Sweeper. Seeing her, I leapt from my position while he hastily closed down the game.
Paige ignored him, fixing her eyes on me. 'I want you to do something with Seth Mortensen.'
Uneasily, I remembered the love slave comment. 'Like what?'
