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"Burning?" His brow wrinkled.
"Yeah, you've been lying out there in next to nothing all day. I'd be fried to a crisp." But Phoebus didn't even look hot. On the contrary, he looked outrageously handsome in his hastily purchased swim shorts and nothing else. He was one long expanse of golden tan skin and luscious muscles.
"You mean burned by the sunlight?" He chuckled as if he found the idea new and amusing. "No. I do not worry about burning. The sun and I are old friends." He shifted up on one elbow and turned towards her. "Have you finished?"
She chewed her lip as she studied the sketch. "I think so. I actually like it, but I don't know if Eddie will go for it. What do you think?" She handed him the sketchpad.
He studied it carefully. Nodding, he said, "I do think it was a wise choice to make the small fountains in each of the heated rooms more ornate than you originally intended."
"Yeah, I'll just be sure to keep the walls plain marble, then the effect won't be so overwhelming. If he wants more decoration, I'll try to steer him towards the mosaic flooring you suggested."
"You said that he keeps mentioning the importance of authenticity. You can assure him that this sketch is based entirely upon the ancient plans of a working Roman bath. Of course the throne at the edge of the central pool is not exactly..." He paused, glancing up at Pamela. And the smile in his eyes died as something behind her caught his attention.
"Here you are. Finally!"
The woman's voice, filled with frustration, cut over Pamela's shoulder. Before she could turn to see who was speaking Phoebus had leaped to his feet.
"What an unexpected pleasure," he said.
Pleasure? Pamela thought he sounded way more annoyed than pleased. She looked over her shoulder, and had to hold her hand up to shield her eyes from the bright orange light of the setting sun, which perfectly silhouetted the curvaceous shape of a tall woman. She could vaguely make out the flowing lines of a short dress and the fact that the woman's hair was piled up around her head in a style that looked very much like a crown. She didn't spare Pamela a glance. Instead, she launched immediately into a tight-lipped chastisement of Phoebus.
"I waited and waited for you. You didn't come and you didn't come and still you didn't come. So I was forced to come to you."
Phoebus frowned. "I do not believe I specified a time at which I would return."
"I assumed you would return after you - "
"Forgive my rudeness, Pamela," Phoebus interrupted her as he reached forward, snagging the woman's wrist and pulling her around the chaise to face Pamela. "Allow me to present you to my sister. Pamela Gray, this is my twin sister," he hesitated and gave the woman a sharp look, "Diana."
Pamela stood up, smiling brightly with her hand extended. "It's wonderful to meet you, Diana. And please, don't blame Phoebus if he's late for something. It's entirely my fault. When I found out how much he knows about ancient Rome, I couldn't stop picking his brain."
Artemis looked from the mortal's friendly smile to her outstretched hand. She could feel her brother's censoring glare almost as surely as she could feel the invocation thread that still bound her to this woman. Reluctantly, she took Pamela's hand in her own and was surprised by the firm confidence in the woman's grip.
"Wait!" Pamela said, eyes widening in surprise. "I know who you are! You're the beautiful woman from the Zumanity show." Her eyes sliced over to Phoebus. "I can't believe you didn't tell me she was your sister."
"Perhaps he was embarrassed by my performance," Artemis said with a haughty lift of her chin.
"That's ridiculous," Pamela said, giving Phoebus a perplexed look. "Your performance was amazing - athletic, and seductive and incredibly romantic."
One of Artemis' perfectly shaped golden brows arched. "You found it romantic?"
"Definitely!" Pamela said, nodding her head enthusiastically.
"Diana knows that her performance did not embarrass me," Apollo said quickly. "I just hadn't realized she would be appearing last night, so it did surprise me. I would have mentioned it, but after the show I had more on my mind than my sister's theatrics."
He shared an intimate smile with Pamela.
"Tell me, Pamela," Artemis said, as if her brother had not spoken. "Has Phoebus been romancing you properly?"
Pamela's face blazed from pink to scarlet. Her mouth opened and then closed.
"Diana!" Apollo barked. "That question was unnecessary as well as inappropriate."
"Was it?" she hurled back at him. "I think not, Phoebus.'" She enunciated his name distinctly. "The chain is still there! Less than before, but not gone."
Diana's words made no sense to Pamela, but she saw Phoebus' expression change instantly from anger to shock.
"I want it gone," Diana continued in a hard voice. "Need I remind you that our stay here is only temporary? We must leave before dawn."
Pamela felt her stomach tighten. What they were arguing about might make no sense to her, but the word temporary was crystal clear. They were leaving. Soon. Of course she would only be in Vegas for a week herself, but she had been honest about it, telling him up front that she was only visiting to do a job for a client. Phoebus had made love to her and spent the entire day with her, and hadn't once mentioned that he had to leave in the morning. She was an f-ing fool. What had she thought she'd been doing, playing house? Shit. Shit. Shit. She should know better than this. Her inexperience in the dating world was showing. She shouldn't have expected more than fun and temporary games from a one-night stand.
"Ya know," Pamela broke into the sibling rivalry using her brisk, matter-of-fact businesswoman's voice, "if there's one thing I understand, and understand well, it's that sometimes brothers and sisters need to battle things out. In private." She picked up her sketchpad from where Phoebus had discarded it on the lounge chair and stuffed it into her leather bag while she hastily slid her feet into her Mizrahi flats. "Actually, Diana, your timing is excellent. I was just thinking that I really should get back to my room and do some more prep work for tomorrow."
"No, Pamela! Please don't - " Phoebus sputtered.
She barely glanced at him. "I've spent too much time playing this weekend as it is. Good-bye, Phoebus."
Artemis was shocked. The mortal was actually walking away from her brother. Through their invisible connection the goddess could feel much of what was going on inside of the woman. She was... Artemis concentrated, sifting through the emotions pouring through the bond that linked them. Pamela was very upset. And embarrassed. And hurt. She was certain that Apollo had used her. The mortal was breaking into little pieces on the inside, but on the outside she was showing only cool annoyance. Had Artemis not been linked to her, she would never have guessed the turmoil taking place within the mortal woman. How odd. Could this woman's hidden strength have something to do with why the invocation had yet to be fulfilled? Could it be that this young mortal saw through their charade? Diana looked at her with new respect. Apollo had been right about one thing. Pamela certainly was not a simple, silly woman.
"Pamela, my brother is correct. I am being insufferably rude."
Diana's voice stopped Pamela's retreat. She looked at her lover's sister, who smiled at her. Pamela suddenly saw Phoebus' dazzling good looks reflected on her beautiful face.
"I have been experiencing some" - she hesitated and glanced at her brother before continuing - "difficulties of a personal nature of late. I haven't been myself. Please believe me that the last thing I desire is to drive you from my brother."
Pamela met Diana's aquamarine eyes. "Whether I go now or later really doesn't make that much difference, does it? You just said you're leaving in the morning."
"But not forever!" Apollo said hastily, moving to Pamela's side and taking her hand. "You can not believe that I would walk away from you and never return."
Pamela pulled her hand from his grasp. She shook her head and even managed to smile.
"Look, we had fun. Let's leave it at that. You don't need to make a big thing out of it."
Artemis stared at her brother's shocked face. Why didn't he say something? The mortal was leaving him! She obviously didn't want to - not only could Artemis feel Pamela's pain screaming within her own head, but it was apparent in the stiff, mechanical way she held herself. Pamela was hurt and upset. She wanted comfort, not speechless ineptitude.
Apollo, however, was being silently inept.
"We did not mean to offend you," Artemis quickly said. "This is just a misunderstanding. Please. Don't go away upset."
"I'm not upset," Pamela responded.
"I would be." Apollo finally found his voice. This time he didn't touch her. He stood very still and tried to convey everything he was feeling through his words. "I would be upset and angry if I thought that you were planning to leave me before dawn, and you hadn't told me. I should have told you. I meant to. But you must understand, my sweet Pamela, that I knew I would be returning, so to taint our day together by telling you that I must leave soon seemed a cruel thing to do. I can see now that I was wrong. Can you forgive me?"
She should tell him that it was no big deal. She should say that she didn't expect any damn thing from him. And keep walking. She could call V and they'd have a great girlfriend talk about how men are shitheads. Then tomorrow she'd go back to work and forget about him. She'd just slept with him; it wasn't like she'd married him or anything too crazy like that.
But those eyes caught her. Again. She could swear that she saw an echo of herself there, deep within them. He had that same "somethin's missin"' about him, and he'd touched her - body, heart and soul. If Duane had embalmed her, Phoebus had brought her alive again. She didn't want to go back to her tomb of complacency, and she knew herself well enough that she understood that this weekend had been a turning point. Pamela wouldn't go back to being satisfied with the safety of her life. She'd get out there; she'd flirt and take more chances - with or without Phoebus. But everything within her was screaming that she wanted to take those chances with him.
"Okay," she said, biting the word off. "I forgive you." And then crossed her arms and waited. The ball was in his court. Surprisingly, it was his sister who fielded and returned it.
"My brother and I must speak. It is a family matter, and I - "
"Not a problem," Pamela snapped. "I'm out of here."
"Pamela, is it correct that you have a brother, too?" Artemis' gaze was calculating.
Caught again in the motion of turning away, Pamela nodded tightly.
"Then you understand that sometimes family problems can overrule our individual desires. We are needed at home. Please do not judge my brother harshly because of that."
Pamela answered her with equal candor. "I'm not judging your brother harshly; I'm protecting myself."
"You do not need protection from me," Apollo said. Unable to stop himself from touching her, he brushed her long, bare neck with his fingertips. When she shivered, he was unsure whether it was because she desired or rejected him. "Meet me tonight. Let me see you again before I must leave. You have my oath that I will return."
She shouldn't. He made her feel too much. Pamela opened her mouth to tell him no, and then she thought about the night without him. It would be like the morning sky without sunlight - bleak... empty... like her life had become. She wouldn't go back to that, even if it meant taking a chance on getting her heart broken. At least now she knew that her heart was working again.
"Fine," she said, making sure her voice remained neutral. "You can take me to dinner. Snackous Maximous doesn't count as a real meal anyway."
"He will choose the place," Artemis said with a satisfied smile.
"Fine," Pamela repeated. "If we meet at eight o'clock, will that give you enough time to get your family business straight?"
Artemis nodded slightly at her brother.
"Yes," he said. "I will call for you at your room."
"No!" Pamela said too quickly. She cleared her throat and gave a little cough like the word explosion had been a tickle and not a knee-jerk. "I'll meet you at the wine bar. Just like before." Then she instantly regretted saying "just like before." Just like the night before... when they'd ended up in her bed making love until past noon...
His smile was a caress as he remembered all too well what the previous night had held. "I will meet you, sweet Pamela, at our wine bar. Just like before."
This time nothing prevented her retreat.
