“Apollo!” The boisterous call comes from the stairs, where a large man with light-brown skin and a head full of striking gray hair is making his way down to us. Even without Apollo murmuring in my ear, I recognize Minos. He’s been all over the gossip sites in the last two weeks. He’s an attractive man in a brutal sort of way. I saw how the Minotaur wielded that giant sword in the competition for Ares. I bet he learned the skill from his foster father. Minos moves the same way Athena, Ares, and Zeus do: like he’s got combat training.
He finally reaches our table and gives a charming smile. “Quite the show, wasn’t it?”
“Pan offers premier entertainment,” Apollo says neutrally. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Very much so.” Minos glances up into the darkness of the ceiling. “I’d pay good money to know how they pulled it off without crashing into each other.”
It’s nothing more than I already thought, and he hadn’t done anything wrong during this short interaction, but something about this man raises the small hairs on the back of my neck. As far as I know, we haven’t confirmed him as an enemy of Olympus, so it might just be that he reminds me a bit of the last Zeus with his boisterous charm and steamrolling attitude. It might be…but I’ve survived this long by trusting my instincts and they’re saying this man is dangerous.
Of course he is. Everyone in Olympus with a smidge of power is dangerous. Minos has gathered more thana smidgesince he arrived and started making waves.
He turns back to us with an easy chuckle. “I hear you’ll be bringing a guest to the party next week.” He focuses on me for what appears to be the first time since he arrived at our table. It’s not quite a lecherous look, but there’s interest in his dark eyes that sets my teeth on edge. “Pretty thing, aren’t you? I didn’t know you were dating anyone, Apollo.”
“Minos.” Apollo’s voice doesn’t go tight, but he places his hand on my thigh. Just like that, I’m not thinking about Minos at all. My brain kind of…blips. Apollo keeps speaking as if he’s not branding me right through the thin fabric of my dress. “This is my girlfriend, Cassandra. Our relationship is a recent development we kept under wraps for obvious reasons. You’ve tasted what the gossip sites are like in the city.”
Minos grins. “Relentless.”
“Exactly. Cassandra, this is our newest Olympian, Minos. He’s…not from around here.”
Minos booms out a laugh. “Not by a long shot.” He holds out a broad hand. “Nice to meet you, Cassandra.”
I gingerly place my hand in his, trying not to tense when he brushes a perfectly polite kiss to my knuckles. Pan did the same thing when we came into the restaurant, but it didn’t give me the same reaction. His flirting felt harmless.
There’s nothing harmless about Minos.
He releases my hand and turns that charming smile on Apollo. “Look forward to seeing you at the party.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual.”
Minos heads for the stairs and ascends to the third level, returning to an empty seat at a large table. I can see it from my position without craning my neck. I recognize Theseus and the Minotaur—what kind of name is that, anyway? There are another three people at the table, but they’re sitting too far back in the shadows to get a good look. “Does Minos have a wife? Other children?” I don’t think his foster sons have wives. If they do, they’ve kept the women out of the public eye since arriving because while both men have been photographed a number of times in the last few weeks, they’ve never been seen with anyone.
“No wife. A daughter and a son. They also have another woman in their party, but I’m not certain of her connection. She’s not another daughter, though.”
“I see.” I drop my gaze to Apollo. He’s still relaxed and smiling, but there’s new tension around his dark eyes. “You really don’t like him, do you?”
“I don’t know nearly enough about him.”
From Apollo, that’s saying something. He knows everything about everyone. It’s literally his job. It speaks volumes that there’s nothing to find when it comes to Minos. I’m sure it feels like failure, and Apollo is not one to tolerate that. At least when it comes to himself.
He has a lot more grace when it’s someone on his team who’s come up short.
I open my mouth to attempt something reassuring, but then I register that he still has his hand on my thigh. It’s…a nice hand. Everything about Apollo is nice. He’s not massive by any means, but I’ve seen him haul around large boxes as if it’s nothing, so he stays in shape. His hand is graceful, long fingered with perfectly maintained nails.
Even as I tell myself I’m being ridiculous, I know I’ll feel the imprint of his fingers tattooed on my skin for hours afterward. It’s all too easy for my imagination to take hold, to fill in the blanks of what it would feel like if he slid his hand higher, if he curved his fingers around to my inner thigh, if he—
“Cassandra.”
I lift my gaze from his hand to his face. I don’t know what my expression is doing, but he narrows his eyes and his tension bleeds away, replaced by…heat? His fingers pulse on my thigh. I feel that pulse all the way to my pussy, as if he skated his touch up to cup me there. I shiver. What did he say? My name? I lick my lips, achingly aware of the way his eyes follow the movement. “Yes?”
“Are they watching?”
I tuck my hair behind my ears, using the move to check. It seems likeeveryoneis watching. “Yes.”
He sighs. “Of course they are.” Again, his fingers pulse on my thigh. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
His resignation almost makes me laugh. Or it would if a pit hadn’t just opened up in my stomach. Of course he’s not kissing me because he wants to; it’s all part of the roles we’re playing. “Just like that.”
“Just like that.” But Apollo doesn’t move. He’s still searching my face for answers I’m not sure I have. This is all pretend. It will continue being pretend for the next week or so. I’ve kissed people I like less than Apollo. I don’t know if I’ve kissed anyone that I like more.