Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(22)

Pamela's laughter delighted Apollo. It didn't have the perfectly musical sound of an amused goddess; instead it was filled with earthy joy and brought to mind images of hot firelit nights and slippery entwined limbs.

"Now that makes total sense. I have a brother myself. He's a big, tough fireman, and he never lets me forget the time I talked him into dressing up as a Star-Belly Sneetch and reading Seuss to some local preschool kids. How was I supposed to know the media would get wind of it and snap a picture of him climbing out of the fire truck in costume?" Remembering, Pamela laughed so hard that she snorted. "His buddies had the picture blown up, laminated and posted at all the fire stations. Sometimes I still call him Fireman Sneetch, but usually only when I am well out of reach." She giggled at her own rhyming minitribute to Seuss.

Apollo had no idea what she was talking about, but her laughter was incredibly infectious, and when she snorted he had a sudden, irrational desire to lean across the table and kiss her squarely on her adorable nose.

"So I understand perfectly the trials a sister can impose upon her brother." She wiped at her eyes and caught her breath. She really should slow down on the wine. "What do you do when your sister isn't torturing you?"

Apollo considered and discarded several answers before he replied. "I do many things, but I like to think of myself predominately as a healer and a musician."

He was a singing doctor? Was that anything like a singing cowboy? The giggles bubbled up through her chest again. She drowned them in a gulp of wine, which did absolutely nothing to help her teetering sobriety.

"What kind of doctor are you?" she finally asked when she was sure she could speak without dissolving into giggles.

"I believe I am an excellent one," he said, surprised at her question.

Laughter spilling over, she shook her head. "I think we have a translation glitch, and this" - she flicked a fingernail against her almost empty wineglass - "is definitely not helping."

"Perhaps, you would like to walk with me?" He pounced on the opportunity to guide the conversation away from questions about himself. "Taking in the night air would be an excellent way for you to clear your head."

She pointed to the perpetually daylight sky of The Forum. "But it's not night out there."

He leaned forward. "In a land such as this, can we not imagine it night?"

In a caress so soft that she felt the heat from his body more than the pressure of his touch, he stroked one finger down the back of her hand. It was only a brief meeting of skin, but the small, intimate gestured seemed to pull her forward. The world around them fell away, and Pamela submerged herself in his eyes. He was just so damn outrageously gorgeous. She was flooded with a sensation that it took her several heartbeats to identify. Desire. How long had it been since she had felt the hot pull of lust for a man? Years - it had been years. And she was only thirty. It was like she'd let herself become dried up and old and passionless. Well, no more. She loosed her breath in a rush.

"Okay. I'll take a walk with you," she proclaimed. "Are you staying at Caesars Palace? I can wait here while you change your clothes."

"No. I - I am..." He mentally flailed around. Thank the nine Titans that he managed a credible excuse. "I am staying with my sister."

"Oh." She frowned at his costume. "Well, I suppose you don't really need to change."

This was something he understood perfectly. Her words said one thing, but her body language said another. Mortal women and goddesses had this form of communication very much in common.

He glanced around The Forum. Modern mortals dressed so oddly. How had he not noticed earlier how out of place he was? Poorly carved statues were the only things in this world attired like him. He suddenly realized with a start of shock that he must look like a buffoon to her. A buffoon was unlikely to romance anyone, and he must romance her to grant her desire and to break the bond her invocation had forged. In the back of his mind a thought whispered that there was much more to this than the completion of an invocation - that he wanted her to take him seriously for an entirely different reason. The thought was strangely intriguing.

What was he going to do about it?

Then Ms eyes widened. The answer to his dilemma surrounded him.

"I will simply purchase the correct clothing," he said.

Pamela's lips quirked up in a surprised smile. "Just like that?"

"Of course! Are we not surrounded by shops?"

She raised her brows and nodded. "We are, indeed."

He stood, and then he realized he needed to do something he had never before had to do. Until that moment the God of Light had never had to ask a woman - mortal or immortal - to wait for him. Gently, he touched the back of her hand again. "I will not be long. Will you wait?"

Pamela took her time considering. A naughty smile played at the corner of her well-shaped mouth. She ran one finger around the rim of her crystal wineglass while her eyes met his.

"I suppose I could wait. For a little while."

He smiled, took a couple of steps, stopped, frowned and returned to the table.

"Which shop would you suggest?" he asked in a low voice.

"Well," she said, dropping her voice to match his. "It's lucky for you that I am a shopping expert. I have instant recall when it comes to couture." She squinted her eyes, considering. "I remember an Armani's just around the corner there." She pointed to her right.