Warrior Rising (Goddess Summoning #6)(79)

“I got lucky,” Kat said, tilting her head so that he could touch her hair more easily. “Polyxena had a seriously nice head of hair.”

Achilles smiled. “I forget that this body has not always been yours. What color was your hair before?”

“Blond. It wasn’t long like this, but it was pretty good hair, too.”

“You would be beautiful in any form to me,” he said, and kissed her lips gently.

“That is a very sweet thing to say. But you’re not going to get me off subject so easily. Yes, self-hypnotism, which is not like a spell at all, can help you learn to control your body and your emotions so that you can keep both relaxed enough, no matter what is going on with you, to avoid the triggers that cause the berserker to possess you.”

“Ah, and then our son will not accidentally trigger me to be possessed by the berserker when he believes he cannot possibly drown because he is the grandson of a sea goddess,” Achilles said, looking into her eyes.

Trapped in the blue depths of his soul, Kat saw a future where she lived and loved at this amazing man’s side and she knew she would want his babies—she’d want them, and their grandchildren, and whatever was the ancient and magical Greek world’s equivalent of the traditional family and the picket fence. Hell, she even wanted the damn dog. She wanted it all. “And what if he is a she?”

Achilles blinked, obviously not having considered this as a possibility. Then he snorted and his lips twitched up in his little almost smile. “I suppose I will have to double my practice of self-hypnotism then—or perhaps not practice it at all. Would becoming a berserker be a good or bad thing when suitors try to woo my daughter from me?”

Kat grinned. “I think control is still the key here. If he shows up sagging or wearing emo pants and eyeliner, we let the berserker loose. If he looks like a good kid, you just growl and scare him a little.” Achilles’ brow knitted together in confusion. Kat laughed. “How about this—you only eat the suitors we don’t like.”

He frowned at her. “Not even the berserker actually eats people.”

She lifted her brow.

“Well, not usually he doesn’t,” Achilles amended.

Kat was just trying to decide if she really wanted to question Achilles further about the whole “usually he doesn’t eat people” thing when a woman’s shriek carried clearly into their tent. Achilles had just leapt to his feet when the shriek was followed by gales of giggles. He’d taken one hesitant step toward the tent flap when Kat grabbed his hand and pulled him back to bed.

“As embarrassing as it is to admit, that is Jacqueline. And, no, she doesn’t need rescuing.”

Achilles sat back down on the bed beside her. “Is she always that loud?”

“No. That’s her ‘oh, baby, I think I just won the lottery shriek and giggle.’ Which means that I can tell you with one-hundred-percent accuracy Patroklos is not still pissed off at you. He is out there giving Jacky the time of her life.”

“Huh.” Achilles grunted. “The boy is certainly causing a ruckus. He and Jacqueline should be quieter—more reserved.”

Kat’s brows shot up. “Achilles, you are a stodgy old spinster. My god, listen to you—you sound about a hundred years old.”

“I am not a spinster.”

“And to think Hera and Athena accused Jacky and me of being spinsters just because we’re, well, old. You, Mr. Hero Warrior, are actually an old fuddy-dud, without being old.” More giggles drifted through the tent to them, this time punctuated by a deeply sensuous and insistent male voice. “And he,” Kat jerked her chin in the direction of the tent flap, “is definitely no ‘boy.’ ”

“Are you lusting after my young cousin?” Achilles asked, blue eyes sparkling.

“How about I answer that question after I get all the details from Jacky tomorrow?”

“You are a tease,” Achilles said and, growling playfully, he pulled her back on the bed with him.

“Yep, and you are a spinster,” Kat said, pretending to struggle.

“Would a spinster do this?” Achilles bent and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was not wild and out of control. He remembered to pace himself—to monitor his breathing and be sure that lust didn’t overwhelm him and bring on the berserker. But that didn’t mean the kiss wasn’t deep and passionate and an intimate promise of more to come.

When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, Kat was breathless. “If I take back the whole spinster thing, will that mean you’re going to stop kissing me like that?”

“Never,” Achilles whispered.

“Glad to hear it, because I don’t want you to ever stop.”

“I won’t my Katrina, my princess…”

And Achilles made love to her. Slowly, languorously, letting her body serve as his blueprint he built her pleasure, one touch at a time, until they both found completion.

As Kat drifted to sleep in his arms she thought that having a man who loved her slowly and carefully was the most erotic experience of her life.

Venus materialized inside the dim tent after the lovers were deeply asleep. Moving silently as a shade, she brushed the bed curtain aside and smiled down at Achilles and Katrina. True love, she thought happily. I knew this woman was meant for somethingspecial the first instant I saw her—and Love is never wrong.