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brown tips of the parched plants. Immediately, the ferns moved, as if inhaling a breath of fresh air. They swelled and turned a bright, healthy green.

Hearing the click of the phone, he moved away from the revived greenery.

Maia approached. “Well, food's on its way.” She immediately noticed the plants and ran a finger along one of the succulent leaves. “Wow. These things were really dead this morning."

"Really dead,” he teased, “rather than just dead?"

She glared at him, but he caught her hidden smile.

"Your thumb must be greener than you thought.” He led her, still shaking her head, to the couch. “So, are you happy about your father?"

She turned to him. “I don't really know what I am. Cautiously optimistic, maybe? People don't just recover from MS."

He gritted his teeth, wishing he could tell her not to worry. “Maybe it was a miracle. They do happen from time to time."

"Yeah, right. But this isn't a case of seeing the Virgin Mary in a plate of mac and cheese."

"You're a skeptic, aren't you, Maia? A true nonbeliever.” Eric narrowed his eyes at her, trying not to feel so disappointed.

"I have a background in art but also in science. My dad taught me not to believe the things I couldn't see. I would have thought you'd feel the same."

"I do,” he replied. “But I guess I still allow for the possibility there's something bigger out there than all of us. Your science can't disprove it."

"Or prove it,” she countered. “Anyway, like the doctor said, it's too early to assume he's in the clear. Look how strangely he acted when he saw you! What was that all about?"

"Must be the meds,” he responded quietly.

"Anyway, they'll be observing him for a while.” She scrunched her forehead, stymied by everything she had seen. For a moment, she just sat there quietly, staring at her hands in her lap.

Then, reality kicked in and she remembered she had Eric sitting with her. Stud-muffin Eric. Sex-god Eric. Blushing, she looked up. “Look. I'm fine now. You don't have to babysit me. I'm sure someone like you has places to go."

"Someone like me?” He grinned as he asked it. “Meaning?"

Yeah, someone like you, she thought. Manly. Sexy. The sort of person who did not generally end up in her apartment unless he knocked on the wrong door. “You know. A big shot. Shouldn't you be in a fancy boardroom right now, scowling at someone's PowerPoint presentation?"

Eric laughed. “Don't worry. I have a bunch of people to do my scowling for me. I've assembled a good team."

"Right,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I've seen your ‘team.’ She's tall and blonde and wears a size zero, except in the region of her fake boobs."

There was an amused light in his eyes then, as if he recognized her jealous tone and was excited by it. “You mean Sarah? I'll have you know she has excellent qualifications for the role."

Maia stared at him, her dark eyes hooded. “I'll bet she does."

Eric continued as if he hadn't heard her. “Besides—” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “—I've never been drawn to blondes.” He looked at her. “I've always been a sucker for brunettes."

She swallowed, and noticed how his gaze lingered on her throat. God, she must be so transparent to him. This was a man who was no doubt accustomed to sophisticated women. Elegant women. Not women who still dressed like girls and were ignorant of the finer points of seduction. Eric Lord must think she was such a love-starved fool!

So why was he here with her?

She managed, albeit clumsily, to change the subject and steer the conversation toward the one little thing they had in common: their love for all things Greek. She asked about his research, and he asked about all the digs she'd gone on with her father. Before long, she had her photos laid out before them, and they were reminiscing about favorite sites and cities.

Soon, the Chinese food arrived and he paid for it, much to her chagrin. They dug in, both of them surprised at their huge appetites. Between bites of chicken balls and bok choi, Maia asked about Eric's family. “Tell me about your parents."

Eric looked uncomfortable for a moment, but the shadow in his eyes passed. “There's not much to say unfortunately. I don't see them much. And they're basically estranged from each other.” He offered up a sad little grin. “My mom and dad love each other passionately. They just can't live together."

He thought of the willful Ares and the vain Aphrodite. He could never tell Maia the truth. She'd die from shock.

"But that's so sad,” she persisted. “Can't they get over their differences?"

"You don't know my parents.” Actually, she probably did know everything she needed to know. The myths were all based on truth. Aphrodite was as much the love-struck tease as Ares was the hard and impatient man of war. As their progeny, he saw it as his duty to temper and control those two warring sides of himself. He could never allow himself to loose the rein on the emotions stirring just below his surface.

"So, you don't see them much?"

She seemed so upset for him. Her concern was adorable. “It's okay. It's better this way. I hate to say it, but there are some destructive influences in my family. A lot of ... addictive personalities. I prefer to keep away from them. Stay on the straight and narrow, you know?” He chuckled.

"What is wrong with the Lord family?” exclaimed Maia. “Can't they even get their acts together for their son?"

"What about your mother? You've never mentioned her."

"Oh,” she said quietly. “That's because I don't know her. I was almost five when she decided she didn't want me anymore. Didn't want us."

Eric stared at her, stunned into silence. Didn't want her? Who wouldn't want her?

"My mom was an artist. She came from a totally different world than my dad. She tried joining him on digs at the start of their marriage, but

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