Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(53)

Artemis' smooth brow wrinkled as she thought about what Pamela had said, "Snackus Maximus? What type of name is that?"

"A poorly chosen one."

"I still think you should bring her here tonight. Woo her in Olympus, in your very own temple. What could be more romantic?"

"Artemis, I already explained to you that I refuse to use my powers to win her love."

"Then don't use your powers, stubborn! But this is your home, and it's certainly much more beautiful than anything the Kingdom of Vegas has to offer."

Apollo considered his sister's words. "She does appreciate ancient architecture."

"So bring her here. Tell her it's an exclusive part of Caesars Palace. At least you'll be assured privacy."

"I supposed I could use my powers just enough to veil her senses as we cross through the portal."

"Then transport her here quickly, before any of the other Twelve glimpse her."

Apollo was beginning to enjoy the idea. "I wouldn't have to worry about accidents, or metal monsters, or any of the other distractions of the modern world. I could focus on assuring her of my love." And he honestly wanted to show Pamela his home and to witness her reaction to its beauty - even if he couldn't claim it as his own.

"I'll plan the meal myself, and have my own handmaidens wait upon you. The nymphs can't be trusted."

"Excellent!" Apollo said. "Be certain that you remind them not to call me Apollo."

"Yes, yes, my maidens will continue your charade, Phoebus," she said.

"I am in your debt, Diana," he said, smiling.

She returned his smile, thinking how charming and handsome her brother was. Pamela would not be able to resist him, especially if Artemis had anything to do with it - which she would make sure she did.

"Then we've decided, and there is much to do to prepare. Time is short. By dawn Pamela must be returned to the Kingdom of Vegas. Hopefully, completely enamored with Phoebus," Artemis said. Then she clapped her hands together twice, and in the commanding voice of the Huntress of Olympus, called, "Handmaidens, attend me!"

Before a breath could pass, twelve beautiful young women materialized in a puff of glittering silver dust that looked like it had been borrowed from the light of the moon.

"Ladies, my brother has need of our aid. Here is what we must do..."

Apollo watched the flurry of activity until his sister shooed him from the room, reminding him that it was almost time for him to meet with his lover. The God of Light smiled as he readied himself. He was bringing his true love to his home. He would woo her and love her here, where he was most comfortable. She would see that she need not fear being hurt again. Safe within his realm, he was certain that nothing could go wrong.

Chapter 18

"I don't have a clue what to wear," Pamela sighed into her cell phone.

"Something hot, but not too hot," V said. "He has some explaining to do before you fall on your back, legs all akimbo again."

"My legs were not akimbo."

V's silence weighed heavily against Pamela's guilt-ridden ear.

"Okay, okay. Maybe they were a little akimbo," she admitted.

"Pammy. There's no such thing as 'a little akimbo.' That's like being a little pregnant, or engaging in a little nuclear war."

"Oh, God. I'm a slut." She covered her eyes with her hand.

"Please. You've had sex with two men in, what, eight or nine years? That absolutely does not even begin to qualify you for slutdom."

"But I slept with him on what was barely our second date," she whispered.

"You don't have to whisper. You're alone. And you're making your case to the wrong woman here. Let us review the old joke. What does a lesbian take with her on a second date?" She paused expectantly.

"A U-Haul trailer so she can move in," Pamela provided.

"Right you are. So you see, from my point of view I think you've shown amazing discretion."

"You're right. I'm talking to the wrong woman," Pamela said.

V ignored her. "Which does not mean that you shouldn't play it cool. At least for a little while tonight until Young Jedi Phoebus explains why he's cutting out on you in the morning and, more importantly, why he failed to mention that little fact before, during, or after your legs were akimbo."

"I really wish you wouldn't call him that."

"Why? I mean it as a compliment. Besides, according to your gushing descriptions, it fits him perfectly."

"He's not like a Jedi. If you want the truth, he's more like a young god."

"Oh, get a grip on yourself. Nothing trumps a Jedi Knight except Princess Leia."

"Vernelle! You're so not helping."

"Sorry. Okay, what to wear... How about that adorable little butter-colored silk dress, you know, the one with the spaghetti straps. It's a spring fashion staple and always a hit with the masses. You did bring it with you, didn't you?"

"Yes I did. And do you remember how low it's cut? Hello! It has spaghetti straps! Bare shoulders and cle**age do not add up to hot without being hot," Pamela said.

"True. Okay. Did you bring those black slacks with you? The ones with the little slits that show a pretty glimpse of your calves?"