Goddess of the Rose (Goddess Summoning #4)(86)

When Hecate returned from wherever, she would have a conversation with her about Asterius. Then she'd deal with the goddess's response, whatever it may be. Until then she would cherish this honeymoon period they had been granted and thoroughly enjoy the fact that she had finally fallen in love.

Satisfied with her plan of attack, Mikki left the bench and checked the surrounding beds and fountains to make sure she was heading in the right direction. Hecate's comments about the men coming and going through the rose gate had worried her, and, no matter what the goddess said, she was going to keep that worry fresh. Right now her instincts were telling her to check the gate for herself - then announce a curfew, even though she loathed the thought of acting like a den mother at a naughty sorority. She'd like to talk with Asterius about it, but it only made sense to place some limits on when the gate could be open. And also, she needed to find out who exactly could open it. Asterius could, of course, and he'd said she could, too. The Dream Weavers had mentioned that the Elementals had collected the threads of reality while he had been bespelled, so they had to be able to open the gate. But who else? It would be a massive headache if every woman in the realm could wave her fingers and have the damn thing part like the Red Sea. Clearly, there was a lot of work for her to do.

Checking her mental watch, Mikki picked up her pace. She really did need to get a move on and call her handmaidens. She could, of course, call them right now and have them meet her out here in the gardens, but it seemed too Nurse Ratchet-like. She'd much rather get the gate checked, hurry back to her room, change out of her wet (and torn, then pieced back together this morning) chiton, have Daphne bring some lovely tea and eventually have a comfortable meeting with the girls over a late brunch. And anyway, it was still early. The handmaidens weren't stupid. They could certainly look at the weather and realize that there was little work in the gardens they could do in the rain. Maybe they would even climb back in bed. Mikki smiled to herself, hoping they weren't climbing back into lonely beds - tonight she certainly wouldn't be.

The rain had moved lazily from drizzle to mist to a moon-colored fog that drifted over the roses as if they were in the Lake District of England. The fog thickened the farther south she walked, and Mikki was preoccupied with thoughts of the evening to come, trying to decide if she could sneak Asterius up to the hot springs for a whole new meaning to "scrubbed clean," when multiflora roses reared in front of her nose and she almost smacked into the wall.

"Remember, next spell tell Wind to blow away the fog after the rain," she mumbled to herself while she scanned the gate for signs of wear and tear. "You look good," she pronounced, patting part of the foliage.

"Priestess! Can you help us?"

Mikki looked around, trying to see where the deep voice was coming from. It was unmistakably male, which seemed out of place in the gardens.

"Here, Priestess! We're out here!"

Mikki realized that the voice was coming from the other side of the rose wall. She bent a little so she could look through a less-dense part of the climbing branches, and her eyes widened in surprise. Four men stood just outside the gate, surrounded by thick gray fog. Three of them were dressed as she imagined ancient Greek men should dress. In toga-looking outfits, with one arm bare, and regal purple embroidered cloaks tossed over their broad backs. They were all tall, well built and youthfully handsome.

The fourth man was clearly their leader and the one who had spoken. He stood in front of the others and was dressed in much the same style she was used to seeing Asterius wear, with a cuirasse over a short, pleated tunic. But there is where his similarity to her lover ended. This man was beautiful, tall and golden. Even in the foggy morning he shined. His skin was tanned to that singular color only a few true blondes get naturally - a healthy, burnished brown that looked like the purest of honey. It covered a body that was perfection. He was athletically built, without being too heavily muscled and brutish. His hair was thick and wavy, cut short enough to be masculine, but left long enough to be endearingly boyish. His eyes were so blue that Mikki could feel them searching through the roses to find her.

She'd never seen a man that handsome in person. Usually such perfection was limited to Hollywood and the machinations of filmmakers and plastic surgeons.

"There you are, Priestess!" He smiled, and his incredible face lit with warmth. "We're here. We answered your call."

She smiled back (who wouldn't return a smile like that?). "My call?"

"Well, Priestess, I can only pray to the Great Goddess that I could be lucky enough to be called by a beauty such as you."

Ridiculously, Mikki felt her face flush. "I've heard that blue eyes are weaker than brown or green. I think you've just proven the rumor true."

He laughed, and the sound was as catching as it was seductive. "Ah, I see my prayers have been answered! The goddess has granted me a priestess who has wit as well as beauty." He took a few steps toward the rose gate. His friends followed.

Mikki watched him move with a natural confidence that was easy and attractive - and so unlike Asterius's inhumanly feral grace that the comparison was jarring. She didn't desire the golden man, but she did feel a sliver of envy for the woman who had called him, followed instantly by a rush of guilt. What the hell was wrong with her? She'd just left Asterius's bed after proclaiming her love for him! And here she was gawking all calf-eyed at a handsome stranger? Maybe the rain had seeped through her head and into her brain, waterlogging it.