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“I meant that you might see it as a practicality. If you order food, you might as well order sex.”
“I learned to cook. Apply that how you will.”
Apollo laughed. “All right. Point taken. But your right hand can hardly be a true substitute for physical passion.”
“I’ve had enough to last a lifetime.”
“Obviously not, if you have a desire for her.”
“It is inconvenient. And I’ve no wish to act on it. I just do not wish to feel it either.”
“It must be galling for you. To want something you cannot have.”
“I am very familiar with the feeling.”
“Not in this context,” said Apollo.
“You certainly know nothing of it.”
Apollo laughed. Bitter. Hard. “Oh, you think you know everything about my life? About what I feel. About what I can have. When you have not been a part of my life, not really in all these years.” His friend shook his head. “You have no idea what I want.”
“No,” he said, feeling somewhat shamed. “I don’t suppose I do.”
“She wishes to dance with you?”
“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “And I have no wish to put my hands on her.”
“Your mistake is believing that the only thing anyone ever wanted from you was your face, Cameron. You have other attributes. Focus on those and find her charm.”
“My money?”
“I believe the gentler ladies would call it your manhood, Cam.”
He gritted his teeth. “Thank you.”
“Of course, I’m assuming that everything is fine there... I feel as if you would’ve told me.”
“Enough,” he said, waving his hand. “Everything is fine there, thank you.”
“Charm her. Anyway, you need to figure out how to look as if you are doing so when we are at the product launch. And by the way, I have begun marketing it as an event not to miss. One with a very special guest.”
“You are very good at what you do.”
“As were you. So figure out how to become good at it again.”
“I don’t know how to be who I was. It feels... Wrong somehow.”
He sighed heavily. “Irina is dead. Whether or not you get on with things.”
Then Apollo hung up, and left Cameron to contemplate that. He dug into his closet, and took out a suit. It had been a long time since he’d worn one.
Then he went downstairs, where he knew Athena would be waiting in the old ballroom. He had not—for the first time—looked ahead at her.
And the moment he walked into the room, he regretted that choice. For he was not prepared. Not for the devastation of her beauty. Not for the way the yellow gown she was wearing conformed to her curves. Soft and draping around her breasts, highlighting the subtle golden glow of the supple mounds. The waist was corseted, the skirt flaring out in a soft chiffon followed her hips.
Her black hair was swept up into a bun, curls trailing down and framing her face. She had no makeup—he’d provided none, it had not occurred to him—but she glowed all the same.
She was like a sunrise.
