Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(85)

"Yes, he hurt me, but that's not the part that still affects me. The hurt died with the love. What lived on was self-doubt. I didn't see it coming. I dated him for almost two years. If someone would have told me - at any time before we were married - that this man who seems so wonderful, so perfect, is really a vindictive, angry, control freak who is going to try to cage you and break you and make you a frightened wreck of yourself, I would have laughed in his face. I would never have believed it. He pretended to be something he wasn't to trap me, and I didn't see through it..." She ended in a whisper.

"The masquerade you were talking about the night we watched the fountain dance. It was your marriage."

She nodded.

"And when you found out that I was Apollo masquerading as Phoebus, you thought you had made yet another mistake in giving yourself to me."

"It's not just that. You're the only man I've been with since Duane. I've been working and keeping busy and - " She broke off, not sure of her next words.

"And you have been avoiding love," Apollo finished for her.

She gave him a quick, sideways look. "Yes."

"Which makes finding out about my subterfuge even more disturbing."

"Yes," she said again.

Apollo considered what she had told him as they followed the twisting path in silence. It made sense now, her continual withdraw from him, and why she couldn't let herself admit her love for him until she was under the intoxicating influence of his sister's power. How surprising to realize that her reticence was more about her past than his - and how refreshing. He suspected that his being a god made less difference to her than his being dishonest with her.

They turned an abrupt corner in the trail and then climbed up an unexpectedly steep incline to find themselves standing atop lumps of sand-colored boulders, worn smooth by time, from the center of which a waterfall poured down into a large, clear pool.

"James was right. This is the perfect spot for a picnic," Pamela said, looking around her in awe as she wiped the sweat from her face with her sleeve. The desert heat was tamer in the canyon, but still the hike had caused a sheen of sweat to break on both of them. Pamela breathed in the watered-cooled air and turned her face to catch the little breeze that lifted from the pool.

"I have a feeling James is usually right," Apollo said. Then he motioned to a flat-topped rock that perched nearby. "Sit with me a moment?"

The climb had served to help rid her of much of the nervous tension that recounting the past had stirred up, and Pamela sat on the sun-warmed rock, curling her legs up under her. She stared down at the sparkling pool, allowing the sound and scent of the gently falling water to soothe her. Apollo sat beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, but still he didn't touch her.

"I will not tell you that I understand what you must feel. I do not. How can I? I cannot even understand why a man would want to cage a woman. I have faults, but wanting to dominate and control women is not one of them." He pointed to the golden coin bearing his image that still danged between her br**sts. "Remember that, whatever happens between the two of us, I have pledged my protection to you. You may rest assured that this Duane will not harass you again."

"Thanks," she said, "but I prefer to clean up my messes myself."

"Now you sound like my sister."

"I'll take that as a scary compliment."

"It was meant as one." Apollo grinned. Pamela met his gaze and returned his grin. He thought how much he loved her face. It was so open, and her emotions were so honest. He could watch her smile forever. And with a start he realized that she had become his sun, and the God of Light swallowed through a suddenly dry throat. He loved her dearly, and that gave her a power over him that was frightening. If she turned from him...

He looked away from her, collecting his thoughts and reining in his emotions. If she turned from him, he would let her go. He would not haunt her life as Duane had. His jaw clenched. She hadn't turned from him yet. And she loved him - he knew she loved him. He turned on the rock so that he could face her and spoke slowly and distinctly.

"I do not understand Duane, and what it was to live under his control and to struggle for your release, but from the first night we met I recognized within your eyes an emotion that I do understand. I know what it is like to wish for more and to feel incomplete without it. What if we were fated to be together? What if everything that has happened in our lives has served one purpose - and that is to prepare us for one another. I am a god, one of the Twelve Olympians. Who would know better the intricate threads the Fates can weave?"

Her eyes sharpened on his, and Apollo chose his words carefully. "I have existed for a very long time, and for most of that existence I have lived in a bright blaze of passion and frivolity. Yes, I have done some good. I brought healing and song and light to the ancient world, but those things were almost an afterthought to me. I always felt hungry. I tried to slake that hunger in the way many men do, be they mortal or immortal. I loved and warred to great excess. It was like I was trying to fill an unending void within me."

"Apollo, I - " Pamela began, but he shook his head.

"No, these are things you should know. I will not masquerade to win you. I want no falseness between us. You must see me as I am if you are to accept me. I have told you that I did not know love until I knew you. It was more than that. I did not believe in the existence of love. After all, I had lived for eons without it, yet I had sampled all types of pleasures of the flesh. Love was obviously nothing more than a sham to which mortals clung. The God of Light had no use for such a sham. I could not feel it. I did not need it. I did not believe in it."