For The Love Of A God Rosanna Leo (best novels in english txt) 📖

told her he was a god. Who did that? And did he really believe it, or was he just taunting her? Either way, it didn't inspire a lot of confidence.

"Could we not talk about Eric, Dad?"

"I think maybe we need to, sweet pea.” Jim took a breath, deciding how to tackle the subject which stymied him. “He did this, Maia. He fixed me. And it doesn't matter how long those docs want to keep me in here for observation, no matter how much they expect me to disappear into my former diseased self, I know I'm cured."

She stared at her father, the man she'd trusted implicitly her whole life. The man who'd never failed her. He didn't look particularly insane. “I really hope so, Daddy. But surely you have to understand Eric had nothing to do with—"

"He was here, you know,” he cut her off. “Before the day you brought him."

"Okay. Maybe he was visiting someone he knows. I don't see what it has to do with anything."

He smiled at her, not frustrated at all, just full of warmth and acceptance. “Eric was in my room, Maia. He came to see me. And before you tell me I'm imagining things, let me remind you my mind was always sharp, even when I was sick."

Her mind railed. Why would Eric visit her father?

It hit her just then that she'd never given Eric directions when they drove to visit her father. He'd simply known where to go.

How?

Jim stared off into space as he recounted the moment. “He never said a word while he was here. But he walked over and laid his hands on my face and my body. And I swear to you I felt a deep heat course through me, like I was being passed under a huge heat lamp. And the room got really bright then. It took me a second, but I realized the light was coming from him, from ... Eric. And his light surrounded us, and I began to get the feeling back in my arms and legs. Maia, it was incredible!"

He grasped her hand tightly, and she could almost feel the same heat in him. “Dad, I don't know..."

He gripped her hands even more forcefully. “You do realize who he is? What he is?"

Maia couldn't meet his eyes. To hear her intelligent, practical, scientific giant of a father talking this way was almost too much. He was surely either sick in the head, or she was.

And yet the feelings Eric produced in her were too magical, too incredible. He looked like Eryx. He knew all about Greece and its myths. He'd caught her outside the museum when she fell and had appeared out of nowhere to do so. He seemed to understand her every dream and shared her passion. He talked like he was ageless. He'd laid hands on her sick father, seemingly to restore his health.

And, God help her for daring to remember, he'd certainly made love like the god of love. Even with her limited sexual experience, she just knew another man could never make her feel so good. So divine. In a short space of time, he had completely captured her heart.

"What is he then, Dad? You tell me."

Jim looked at her as if it all made perfect sense. “He's Eryx, Greek god of love."

She stood and readied herself to leave.

"Maia, I swear I'm not on any meds right now.” He pulled her back down to the bed to sit with him. “Look, you know the stories as well as I do; you've read all the ancient accounts. After the death of the priestess Chloe, there were no more tales told of Eryx. As far as mythology is concerned, he died along with her. Zeus, Poseidon, all the other guys took a new wife every week. Eryx simply went away. Is it so implausible he took human form and lived among mortals? Can we just discount it?"

"Yes, Dad, it's a myth! It's a lie made up by some old guy with a long white beard!"

"And would you tell a modern Christian, a Muslim, that their gods don't exist any longer? That their religions are lies? How do we know, Maia? Maybe he is Eryx."

"He called me his beloved, Dad. What am I supposed to do?” she demanded. “What does it make me? His new priestess? Am I supposed to walk off into the sunset with him, get a mortgage for a ruined temple in Athens, and set up house? This is crazy."

Jim burst out laughing. “It is crazy, but it's wonderful crazy. How many people can say they've touched a god?"

"Daddy, he's not a god. He's a very beautiful man who needs some help. He must be sick.” The tragedy of it was tearing her heart out. She longed for him, longed to gaze into his eyes, but this story was too much to bear. She curled up against her dad and fought the agony which had been tearing through her for a week.

"Do you love him, sweetie?"

"I barely know him."

"I ask again, do you love him? Maia, within minutes of seeing your mother the first time, I knew I was hopelessly in love with her."

"How nice for you,” she shot back angrily. “But your marriage didn't end very well, did it? It's nice to know you want the same misery for me."

She stood and headed for the door. She didn't want to talk to her dad anymore. Although she loved that he was healthy, she wanted her old dad back. The practical Jim Douglas who told her not to talk to strangers. The man who valued science above religion, who didn't believe anything unless he could touch it and verify it.

Of course, Eric had touched him, and his reality had changed.

He was still sitting there, the picture of health, grinning like an idiot as she reached for the door handle. “Have faith, Maia."

She turned on her heel and left.

Although it was now way past closing time, and the museum would be