Goddess of Love (Goddess Summoning #5)(65)

He disappeared into what Venus assumed must be the kitchen, and she reached behind her and flipped up the light switch. She turned back to study Griffin's home, and felt herself freeze with shock as she stared with disbelief at the huge iron sculpture that predominated the room. Though he had borrowed the subject from another artist, she knew the work was Griffin's. It had the same graceful, sensuous lines as did all of his sculptures. It was exquisite, and it made her feel breathless and humbled and more surprised than she had been in centuries.

"This piece is my favorite. I didn't exhibit it tonight because it'll never be for sale," he said softly, handing Venus a glass of white wine.

"It's Botticelli's The Birth of Venus." She was amazed her voice sounded so normal. "Only it's not."

"His painting inspired it, but Botticelli's Venus never felt right to me. So I fixed her." His laugh was a little nervous. "Or at least I tried."

"You fixed her," Venus said, still staring at the sculpture. The seashell had been hammered from what appeared to be a single huge sheet of copper, and Griffin had aged and tarnished it, so that it had a green mossy tint that reminded her of the sea. The Venus that was rising from the ocean was created by more of the copper, only this metal had been polished until it glittered like faceted gems. His lines were sweeping and erotic. He'd fashioned her hair from tiny pieces of metal that lay over one another, giving the effect of a mermaid's tail as it wrapped around the generous curves of her body. She was no longer nymphlike. Instead she had the alluring sensuality of a more adult woman who was ripe and experienced and intriguing. Venus moved closer to the sculpture. "It's hard to believe you did this all of metal. It looks too warm - too realistic."

"Kind of a switch on what women are, don't you think? They look soft, but are really stronger than men usually give them credit for being."

She glanced over her shoulder at him and caught his cocky smile. But she found it sexy and endearing rather than overly arrogant. The man certainly did know women. Smiling, she asked,

"Why Venus?"

He grinned back at her. "Don't you remember? When we met I said she's my favorite goddess."

Venus nodded faintly. She hadn't remembered. She hadn't really even thought about it.

"Yeah, I'm intrigued by her," he said, staring at the sculpture. "The Goddess of Love, born from the sea - not even needing a man to come into being." He shook his head. "I suppose it's always seemed a little sad."

"Sad? What do you mean?" Venus felt her mind fluttering about like it was suddenly filled with confused butterflies.

"Well, think about it. The Goddess of Love doesn't need a man. It makes me think that the goddess carries love around with her, creates it for other people, but doesn't keep any of it for herself. It makes her seem untouched and untouchable." He raised his glass to her and his playful grin was back. "But your hobby is mythology. What do you think of your namesake?"

She waited a long time before answering. Then she said the most honest thing she could. "I think she would love your sculpture of her."

He walked over to her and fingered the escaping wisps of her silver-blond hair. "So, my goddess, have you decided what I am yet?"

"What you are?" His nearness was making her breath come faster.

"Before we got to the gallery you said a man who is an artist and a warrior had to be either exceptional...unusual..." He paused, twining a strand of hair gently around his finger. "What else was it you said?"

Venus raised one brow at him. "I said a man who is an artist must be either exceptional, unusual, abnormal, aberrant, or maybe simply peculiar."

"And, my goddess, what is your decision about me?" His blue eyes were boyishly mischievous.

"I'm leaning toward exceptional or peculiar."

Griffin moved even closer to her. "Let me see if I can shift the vote in favor of exceptional."

He didn't give her time to respond. He simply cupped her face in his hand and bent to possess her mouth. She let him take her in a kiss that blazed through her skin. Venus reveled in the fact that this man took her, without hesitation, without making his touch a game of worship that ended in his begging a boon of her. She'd heard it so many times for century after century: Accept this offering of my body to you, Great Goddess of Love, and please grant my request to have the maiden I desire love me. Even the immortals weren't above asking for her to help them. Vulcan had even married her, ironically, because his desire had been to hide from love. She was well and truly sick of it. Tonight she wouldn't be Venus the Goddess. Tonight she would be a mortal woman who was being loved by a mortal man, which meant she would relinquish her famous control to Griffin.

Without a word, Griffin put her glass of wine next to his on a low metal coffee table. Then he took her hand and led her to the wide stairs to the second floor and the loftlike bedroom that opened to below. His bed was large, with an iron frame and covered with a thick dark comforter and king-sized pillows. He didn't turn on any more lights, but let the illumination from the room below spill softly over them, creating an effect much like candlelight. Griffin sat on his bed and pulled her close to him so that she stood between his legs. Then he tunneled his hands into her hair, causing the precarious updo to come undone and fall down her back and around her shoulders.