Giving It Up for the Gods (5 page)

If she had an ounce of common sense, she’d stop mooning over a jerk like Jase. Damn, she was desperate to get fucked. Tonight.
Hey, Saul, you’re about to get lucky. Maybe.

She dried herself and dressed quickly. For the first time, she understood why her sisters liked satin and lace. When it came to seduction, black cotton undies just didn’t hack it. Besides, hers reeked of some idiot’s spilled beer. Add in that her underwear was as tattered as her clothes, and she was never likely to get screwed.

Maybe if she rummaged around a bit, she could contrive something.

The wardrobes were hand-carved oak, and they were probably as old as this house. Elizabethan or early Jacobean maybe? She pulled out a man’s denim shirt and shrugged it on. Saul’s or Jase’s? She wasn’t sure, but it hung below her knees.
And Neptune’s balls, were the sleeves designed to fit a gorilla?
A good eighteen inches of fabric dangled over her hands and flapped around like broken wings. Rolling those sleeves up was out of the question when her wrist ached every time she used her right hand.

Inspiration struck. Damn but she hoped this shirt belonged to that I’m-not-interested Jase. She shrugged it off her shoulders and let it pool on the floor at her feet before she grabbed the scissors she hadn’t used on her hair. Two quick snips, and the sleeves were just over two and a half feet shorter. There, now it had short sleeves that didn’t flap about over her wrists. Next, the hemline got a short back and sides.

Yeah, that fit better, but it still hung off her toned Siren’s body. She winced when she pulled the belt from her ruined skirt and wrapped it around her waist. Not exactly haute couture, but it would do. An irreverent part of her wondered how many catwalk models went without panties or a bra.

Ready to face the world, she added a sway to her hips and sauntered back down the stairs. As she neared the lounge, she heard the bad-mannered teenager whine, “She was right. I’m as useless as a cat at a dogfight. Why should the gods use a messenger when they’ve got cell phones?”

Lindy cursed softly. Sometimes her mouth moved ahead of her brain. She’d been hurting and angry earlier, but she hated the pain she heard in his voice. All because that irritating teenager stirred her quick temper. She pushed open the door and flashed him a friendly smile. “Hey, Mercury guy!”

All three men stared at her; then Saul grinned and pointed at the table. “Help yourself to coffee and cake.”

“Why not butcher my favorite shirt while you’re at it?” Jase muttered.

Her smile was pure devilment as she pirouetted before them. “Thanks. I just did.”

The teenaged messenger turned his back, lost in a world where he had no purpose. He stood framed between the slender stone pillars on either side of the bay window and stared out into the night.

Coffee addict extraordinaire, Lindy poured herself a cup, then moved to his side. For a god who was thousands of years old, he acted about twelve. “Don’t go all dumb-ass and emo on me. I’ve got one word for you. Con-fid-ent-iality. Cell phones and e-mails can be hacked. You can carry the most sensitive messages in an instant. I’m betting that makes you a valuable commodity. Whatever you charge for your services, you should double it. That way the gods will appreciate the things you do for them.”

His smile was instant and dazzling, giving a glimpse of the man he should be. He had the severest case of arrested development ever, but his frown rivaled the one Jase had turned on her earlier. “But I don’t charge anything.”

She took a piece of fruitcake from the table and, in true Yorkshire style, topped it with cheese. As she ate, she studied the room. The wood paneling was probably antique, and the stone fireplace ran from floor to ceiling. On a good day, she’d love to sit on the blue-cushioned window seat and stare out into the gardens. What a shame they didn’t cut back the huge bush that blew about outside the window and blocked the view.

Then she turned her attention back to the youngster. “Sucker. No one really appreciates anything that’s handed them on a plate. Set some sky-high charges and stick to them. That way when these apes send you for cakes, you know they really, really want them. You’ve got a pretty special talent. Just button the smart mouth and study economics. Start with the law of supply and demand. That’s how things work for us Sirens. Just think. So few of us, so many men…”

* * * *

Jase’s mood darkened, and his fury boiled like molten pitch. He hated that one Siren equaled one slut. Lindy was his. The idea of any other man, god, or demon touching her shattered his hard-won control. Red haze misted his thoughts. Anger spun like a vortex inside him. His horns shot out and stood to attention.
Mine
, his instinct growled. What the hell did he want with a Siren? Especially one who came prefucked and bragged about her conquests.

May the gods have mercy on his friends if she sang one of them into her bed. He sure as hell wouldn’t. His snarl was low, deadly, and brimming with menace. His demon demanded blood. Male blood, the sort that dripped from severed limbs. Lindy, he wanted to cosset and caress. Then he remembered Neptune had named her as the solstice sacrifice. A never-been-with-a-man, freaking virgin. His horns retracted, but he’d be damned twice over if he’d let that rank sea god have her. She was his. Full stop.

For all her fierce tongue and warrior’s heart, Lindy must be confused and vulnerable. Scared even. Not that Jase should worry over a Siren’s well-being. He hated them as much as he hated the Olympian gods. And who knew Sirens had kind hearts? The ones who helped condemn him had been ice-cold, interfering bitches. Maybe Lindy was special. The other Sirens nagged and whined until they got their way. He knew that firsthand. Lindy seemed somehow softer, especially now he’d seen her with Merc. Not that she was any less in-your-face annoying.

The Siren race had sunk their dainty claws into his first love, Cardea, and harangued her until she didn’t know the truth from their lies. Worse, she’d made ridiculous accusations, and people accepted them as fact. Still, this tiny woman, barely covered by his cut-down shirt, comforted Mercury when she’d every right to rage at him. Thanks to her, Merc had something positive to think about. Maybe he’d even open a textbook sometime soon. Anything was better than the teen playing endless computer games and lolling about the house all brooding and listless.

Given Jase’s history, it wasn’t surprising he loathed Sirens. Except Lindy. Her smile warmed the room like sunshine. Even with her hair hanging in knotted rat’s tails, the way she sauntered across the room wearing nothing but his shirt gave him a hard-on. And the other two best keep their hands off her if they didn’t want him to introduce their faces to his fists.

His body tensed as he tried to get his cock under control. Siren or not, one glance at her gray-hued eyes and tumbling titian curls made his boner pulse and throb. He wanted to say something meaningful or witty. Instead, his mouth took on a life of its own. “You can bastardize my favorite shirt, but you can’t put a brush through your hair?”

That’s it
. He’d just put himself in the same class as Mercury. And he’d not just scored a D minus, he’d flunked the test completely. He was an aggravating smart-ass without an ounce of charm. Lindy was petite and alluring, plus she had the longest legs…and her improvised outfit showed every toned inch of them. Even his demon purred at the sight of them.

If Jase could just get her alone, he’d carry her back upstairs and nibble his way from her slender ankles, past her toned thighs, and home in on her cunt. He’d tongue her pussy and finger her clit until she whimpered and moaned. Then he’d screw her until she begged for mercy. Yeah, that beat his other plan—the one where he punched Saul and Merc senseless for staring at what was his. Demons’ breath, did he really want to screw a Siren?

A freaking, low-life, lying Siren. No way
. Even a one-night stand was too much after the misery and pain they’d caused him. Much as he hated the idea, his mouth watered, and his cock…
Think of icebergs and frozen wastes, damn it
. Only, part of him was literally up for it. He just hoped his friends, or worse Lindy, didn’t notice.

His human side wanted something permanent. Damn it, even his demon side was leaning that way. With Lindy, he wanted the proverbial forever and a day. With her, he felt almost human. Even though he wasn’t. He eyed her like a sex-starved teenager, but she held up her hand.

Her glower became an angry, screw-you scowl. “Hello. Wrist. Hair. Not happening until the bones have fused back together.”

Jase growled and glared at the slender wrist she cradled to her chest, which meant he was staring at her tits—and hard as he tried, he couldn’t look away. Almost against his will, he smiled—but what did the damn woman think she was doing, edging closer to Saul? That was why he hated Sirens. Thanks to them, he’d become a creature of darkness, a demon. If he didn’t regain some control, he’d turn on his friends—over a sodding Siren.
Who said the Fates didn’t have a sense of humor?

Chapter Five

Jase winced when Lindy reached left-handed for her coffee. Then she unwittingly layered more guilt on his shoulders.

“My cracked ribs are still sore,” she said matter-of-factly, “but they’re healing up nicely. A compound fracture of the wrist takes a little longer.”

Earlier, he’d flung her over his shoulder and bounced her down the nightclub’s back stairs. No wonder she’d beaten on his back. Every step he’d taken had made her pain a million times worse. Not that she’d complained, even once. That was remarkable for anyone, but for a Siren…

Jase loved Saul like a brother, but he wanted to pound his friend’s skull into splinters. No way should his smug friend over there on the sofa have let her freeze as she rode pillion on his motorbike. And what the hell had Saul thought he was doing when he tossed out that wheelie? Had he wanted her clinging to him the way a spider does its web? Or had he known about the broken wrist and planned to hurt her? If he touched her again, Saul was going down. Despite everything Lindy suffered during their journey, she still comforted that annoying kid Saul adopted.
Then, to round off things nicely, I tossed her down on the bed.

Jase’s ability to see the past, present, and future deserted him around Lindy. When he turned his sight on her, he saw nothing, which meant her life would intermingle with his. Ten minutes ago, he’d have said
impossible
. A Siren for a soul mate? A freaking in-your-face Siren. The Fates must be laughing themselves senseless. Apparently, they’d found a new way to piss him off.

His cock ached to possess her, and his balls thrummed with desire. Okay, his body was a traitor to his brain. Maybe he should just fuck her and move on. Besides, she probably hated him and Saul now. If he could turn back the clock and start over, he would. But if he could do that, he’d have changed things with Cardea. Instead, he’d suffered centuries of pain because of her lies. He paced the room, trying to ignore his protective instincts, but just like when Pandora opened her box, there was no going back now. And when had Lindy moved in so close beside Saul on the sofa?

Then Mercury squashed down on the other side of her, grinned, and said, “There’s coffee cake, fruitcake, and chocolate éclairs. If you want something more substantial, I could toast you a currant tea cake.”

If that boy stared down her neckline, he’d be dead meat. And what the hell was Saul doing, getting up close and personal with her thigh?

Jase growled. “Of course she’s hungry. Go toast that teacake. Now. And you, princess, there’s no need to play sardines on the sofa.”

He pulled the overstuffed leather armchair close to fire, scooped Lindy up in his arms, and deposited her in its depths. Determined to make her comfortable, he shoved the footstool under her feet. When he realized he’d displayed her legs like goods in a shop window, he snarled an ancient Roman curse under his breath. Worse, judging by the grin on Saul’s face, he was considering making a purchase.

Furious with himself, Jase stormed off and fetched a blanket. He tossed it over Lindy, barely missing her head, then carefully tucked it around her legs. “If you haven’t the sense to find some warm clothes, cover yourself up with this.”

Lindy winced as the weight landed on her wrist. She held his gaze for longer than he expected, then clearly decided she liked the warmth.

There. See? I’m looking out for her now, but shouldn’t she be thanking me? Shit, I didn’t mean to, but I’ve hurt her wrist—again
. Demons’ breath, he was an idiot. He ran one hand over his loosely tied ponytail, grinned inanely, and folded down the blanket’s topmost corner. “Lift your arm.”

When she did, he wrapped the blanket around her torso. Although he thought about it, he didn’t cop a feel of her Siren’s curves.
Damn, this woman is one serious temptation.

Then he rounded on Saul. “And you. Wipe that grin off your face. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

THE BLANKET FELT warm and soft against Lindy’s skin, luxurious really. What with having the air crushed from her lungs and the freezing bike ride, she’d take any comfort this oddball trio offered.

Confused by Jase’s mix of brusqueness and thoughtfulness, Lindy curled her legs beneath her and glared at the surfer type with the badass aura. “Come on, Saul or whatever your name really is. I’d really like to hear some explanation of why a primal god and his bad-tempered minion rushed to my rescue. And I definitely need to know more about him.” She nodded toward the teen as he stared at her legs. “If he’s really Mercury, what the hell does that make the two of you? Jupiter and Mars? Or maybe,” she mocked, “Venus and Vesta?”

How crazy could one lone Siren act? Taunting a god and his friends definitely topped her stupid list.

Mercury stared at her like an overgrown puppy; then he laughed. “I told them using modern names wouldn’t fool you.” He hooked a thumb toward Saul. “Blondie over there was once known as Saturn, and the bad tempered one’s—”

“Jase. Just Jase. And you, boy, you’ve got a big mouth.”

Lindy clutched the chair arm so hard the leather creaked, and she felt something crumble. The wooden frame perhaps? Mixing with gods never turned out well. The Sirens learned that when Juno set them up in a singing contest with the Muses. That cost them their feathers and their wings. Grounded, they’d taken to the seas like unwanted jetsam; then they’d found refuge in Atlantis.