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touching her soft lips!

But he couldn't.

For just a brief moment, Eryx wanted out. He wanted a taste.

She looked transfixed. He could make it so she wouldn't even remember the kiss. At the same time, he wanted Maia to remember. All of it.

He lowered his head and breathed in her quick breaths. She smelled good. Guinness, with an undertone of sugary sweetness. Probably the maple cream donut he'd seen her scarf earlier. Would she taste just as good?

He let his lips graze hers. Their softness took him aback. He was just hard up. He needed a little something to sustain him. It had been so long since he'd allowed himself to kiss a woman. One as annoying as Maia shouldn't taste so sweet, but she did.

And when his lips opened upon hers, she didn't resist. She moaned.

Gods, she was moaning, and he'd barely touched her! He was on thin ice here.

Slowly, slowly, he let his tongue slide against hers. As their tongues danced, he reached one hand up and buried it in her hair. His other hand trailed down to her throat, resting near her pulse. It was beating out of control, as if she were a rabbit being hunted by dogs. Her hand came to rest on his arm, and he realized she was shaking.

What was he doing? He'd give her cardiac arrest at this rate.

With trouble, he jerked away, hating himself more than ever. He'd sworn he wouldn't become involved. He was a god! Why couldn't he control himself around her? He wasn't even sure he liked her!

Maia stared at him, her dark eyes haunted. Eric watched as she forced herself to close her mouth. And then she closed her eyes.

"Maia,” he whispered. “I'm sorry. That was a mistake."

He reached into his wallet and tossed a twenty down on the table. And before he was unmanned completely by the torn look on her face, he elbowed his way out of the busy pub.

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Chapter Six

Two days later, Eric sat in his spacious office on the top floor of the museum, head in hands.

He should be happy.

Things were going smoothly with the project. He had the board of directors eating out of his hand, completely aligned with his vision. He'd reorganized other staff, and several departments were already functioning better, despite some grumbling. He had a superb young assistant named Sarah, fresh out of school, who ensured he had everything he needed.

In fact, from the idolizing way she looked at him, he suspected pretty Sarah would be willing to give him a whole lot more if he asked.

However, because he was focused on the work, he was not tempted by his nubile assistant.

If only he could get that ridiculous Douglas woman out of his head now.

Like a lion awaiting feeding time at the zoo, he paced his office. What was wrong with him?

Even though their work invariably threw them together often, he'd tried to avoid Maia for two days. But ever since the kiss at the pub, he couldn't stop thinking of her. The kiss had surprised him as much as her. Surprised him with its sheer innocence and lustful intensity. He'd known right away he was capable of seriously damaging that girl if he wasn't careful. What he hadn't expected was to be so gripped by hunger as well.

It was just a kiss. He'd stolen thousands of them over the years, usually when he was on a bender with Dionysus. None of them had ever meant anything to him.

So, why did this one?

Perhaps because he hadn't needed to steal this kiss. She'd wanted it as much as he had, and it excited him. Made him wonder if a second kiss, gods forbid he lose his self-control again, would drive him as wild with lust.

Perhaps because it reminded him of another woman whose kisses had driven him mad. His Chloe. His first love.

He could still see her now. A maiden in his temple. The gentle priestess who always waited for him, who always ministered to him after his debaucheries. He'd loved her innocence, her all-consuming adoration of him. That, more than anything, made him feel like a god. And when he thrust his engorged member into her soft, slick flesh, he'd always felt strangely human. At one with her. He'd loved her ability to tame the beast in him. Loved her gentle touch driving him to dizzying heights of ecstasy.

Eric's jaw clenched at the memory. How stupid he was then! How foolish. He'd been a degenerate god who'd never had the foresight to imagine his love could so enrage another.

"Damn you, Nemesis,” he whispered. “Damn you to hell."

Nemesis, his spiteful cousin. As goddess of retribution, her powers were unique. Yes, Eryx could do many incredible things, but Nemesis was different. She took pleasure in torturing others, leading them to their inevitable destruction for the sake of vengeance. And she had the power to spin vile curses that were binding, even on other gods.

Why, he'd once seen her curse Dionysus with a hundred years of impotence. And anyone who knew the god of wine and debauchery knew how dreadfully frustrating such a curse would have been.

Eryx never dreamed she would turn her hateful eyes toward Chloe and him.

"I should have just bedded Nemesis,” he said.

He'd always known she was keen on him. He was the god of love, the son of Aphrodite and Ares. He was accustomed to women falling for him. But when Nemesis came to him, five hundred years before the Christian Messiah was even a blip on the radar, he just hadn't been interested. Though she had been glorious in her nakedness and begging for his love, he simply couldn't stomach fucking the spiteful witch.

She'd made him pay for his indifference. He and Chloe both paid the steepest price. Nemesis had killed Chloe. And Eryx had been sentenced to his own personal torment, an eternity of feeling guilty for having loved.

For the god of love, it was sheer hell.

He still recalled Nemesis's

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