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What would it be like to kiss her lips? To brush back her dark locks and pull her close, tasting her perfect full mouth? To draw a gasp from her lungs, bruising her upturned lips?
The temptation to wake her, to find out by jamming my mouth against hers and feeling the flutter of her pulse racing as I grip her neck is almost too much to bear.
I look out as the ferry begins to pull away from the dock. A muscle ticks in my jaw. My cock stirs again.
Damn Persephone.
She might not even realize what she’s doing. But I recognize the signs all too well.
She is laying her spell down all around me, not caring if I become enchanted. I stare out the window at the waves breaking against the shore and grit my teeth.
I can’t let that happen. I won’t.
But I just might let her sleep on my lap for a few more minutes…
Chapter18
Persephone
“Lass.”
My eyes flutter open, focusing blearily on the dashboard of the 1967 Ford Mustang. It’s painted this slick cherry red color and the engine is super loud; when we first climbed into it, I fished the manual out of the glove compartment to find out what kind of muscle car Hades had gotten to transport us up the French coast.
Hades is in the driver’s seat and he presses a button to roll the roof of the car back, shining bright light on my sleepy face.
I yawn. Outside the car, the coastal French countryside is flying by in swashes of sand-colored khaki, dashes of brilliant green peppered with yellow, and a fat palette brush of deep ocean blue. I sit up and rub my eyes. Ahead of me is the road, climbing up and rocketing down the hills outside Monaco. The road twists and winds like a snake and the car flies down them at a breakneck speed.
In the distance, I can see the clash of the coast with the ocean and the distant wink of what I think might be a large city.
“We’re almost to Monaco City,” Hades rasps.
I dart a look at him. He’s been moving non-stop for two days straight, ever since we ran from our villa in Valencia. His tie-dyed hoodie is rumpled. His hair is loose and it streams around his head now, a shock of dark against his tanned skin. He looks straight ahead, and he still wears the fluorescent orange sunglasses that I bought at the gift shop.
Under all that, though, I can sense how tired he must be.
“Are you all right?” I ask. I draw my hood up to keep the wind from whipping my long hair around my head madly.
“Aye,” he says grimly. “I was hoping that ye would talk to me a little. We’ve only got about ten minutes more to go. I’m just not as alert as I’d like to be.”
“Of course.” I stretch my hands up over my head. “I didn’t think I would sleep for so long.”
Something like humor flits across his face. “Ye seemed like ye needed it. I’m used to crisscrossing the globe when I need to do it. I forget that other people aren’t suited to the lifestyle that I lead.”
I scrunch up my face. “No offense, but it doesn’t seem like much of a life. Never the same people. Never the same places. How can you live so…” I pause, trying to think of the right word. “I would say you’re like a nomad, but even they travel to the same places every year.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I have my brothers.”
“Don’t you long for a piece of land with a big house and a cute dog? Where will you put down roots? Where will you like… have a family?”
I squint at him. He just shrugs again. But I do notice that his body language is tighter, more closed off. I screw up my face.
“I want to live in a massive, old, rambling French farmhouse. And I want all kinds of animals… cats and dogs, chickens, ducks and horses. I’d like an orchard, too. Oh, and a great big studio in the attic space above the house. The closest people will be miles away. That’s the kind of house that you raise a family in. The place where you grow old.”
Hades snorts. “That’s yer fantasy?”
My cheeks tinge with warmth. “Isn’t it everyone’s?”
“Not a chance.”
