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“Answer, goddess.”
“Have you slept with her?”
It was the only question that mattered.
He stopped dancing, and those who shared the floor with them did, too, watching with obvious interest. “It sounds like you are requesting a game, Goddess.”
“You wish to play a game?” she scoffed, stepping away from him. “Now?”
He did not answer, and simply held out his hand for her to take. A few weeks ago, she would have hesitated, but tonight she’d had a few glasses of wine, her skin was hot, and this dress was uncomfortable.
Besides, she wanted answers to her questions.
She pressed her fingers into Hades’ palm, and the god smiled wickedly. His fingers closed over hers and they teleported to the Underworld.
CHAPTER XVIII – A TOUCH OF PASSION
Hades appeared in his office. The last time Persephone had been here, she and Hades had played a game of rock-paper-scissors. A fire crackled in the hearth, but the heat wasn’t necessary. She was already an inferno from their dance and that smile he’d offered just before they teleported hadn’t helped—it had promised something sinful.
Gods. Would it ever be possible to control her body’s reaction to him? She was terrible at resisting him, and maybe it was because the darkness in her responded to the darkness in him.
Hades offered her wine, and she accepted a glass while he chose his usual—whisky.
He lifted his gaze and asked, “Hungry? You barely ate at the gala.”
Persephone narrowed her eyes. “You were watching me?”
“Darling, don’t pretend you weren’t watching me. I know your gaze upon me like I know the weight of my horns.”
She looked away, cheeks coloring. “No, I’m not hungry.”
Not for food, anyway—but she didn’t say that out loud.
He accepted this and walked to a table in front of the fireplace. It was like the one in Nevernight, and instead of sitting side-by-side, Hades and Persephone took up opposite ends of the table.
A single deck of cards waited. She never imagined that a few pieces of plastic would hold so much power—these cards could take or bestow riches, they could grant freedom or become the jailer. They could answer questions and strip away dignity.
Hades took a sip from his glass and then set it down with an audible click, reaching for the cards.
“The game?” Persephone asked.
“Poker,” he said, taking the cards out of the box.
He started to shuffle them, and the sound drew Persephone’s attention, as did his graceful fingers. The air in the room grew thick and heavy, and she took a breath before asking, “The stakes?”
Hades smiled. “My favorite part—tell me what you want.”
A thousand things came to her at once and all of them had to do with returning to the baths and finishing what they started.
Finally, she said, “If I win, you answer my questions.”
“Deal,” he said, continuing to shuffle the cards. When he finished, he said, “If I win, I want your clothes.”
“You want to undress me?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Darling, that’s only the start of what I want to do to you.”
She cleared her throat. “Is one win equal to a piece of clothing?”
