He doesn’t call after me again.
I close the bathroom door and slump against it. My adrenaline is already draining out of me, leaving a stark kind of clarity. Apollo was worried about me. He thought the same thing I had—that the Minotaur meant me ill.
I push off the door and, after the barest hesitation, start the shower. I need to wash the maze and the fear off me. As it heats up, I consider my theory. Minos strikes me as a smart man. No one is leaving this party engaged, and if he wanted to play matchmaker, why allow plus-ones in the first place? Something isn’t adding up. Drowning me in the duck pond might remove me, but he has to know Apollo is too smart to consider it an accident. It would eliminate any chance of pairing Apollo with one of his children.
But that logic only holds if the matchmaker theory holds. If something else is going on, I can’t assume I’m safe.
I sigh and strip out of my clothing. I’m going to have to apologize. Storming out in the middle of an argumentwaschildish. I’m better than that. Especially since I know he’s not just snarling to be a dick. He’s genuinely worried about me. There’s a good chance he is right to be, too.
It doesn’t take long to shower and go through my nightly ritual. It’s only when I’m done that I realize I didn’t bring my suitcase into the bathroom. Which means the pajamas I bought solely for this trip are out in the bedroom.
I eye the dress I was wearing before, but it’s silly to put it back on. The towels are all oversize and ridiculously fluffy. One of them will cover me well enough for the thirty seconds it will take to grab the pajamas.
It feels like a much bigger deal than it is. Before I can talk myself out of it, I open the door and step into the bedroom. Apollo sits on the edge of the bed, his elbows propped on his knees, his head hanging. “I just talked with Hector. He was able to hack the system and shut down both the cameras and the microphones planted throughout the house. When they figure out what happened, they’ll likely try to lock him out, but he’s got a good handle on the system for now. He’ll keep us updated.”
“Oh.” I should have asked about that before I stormed off.
“I already searched the room again for bugs. It’s clean. The rest of the household should be settled down soon and then we can see about mapping out the second floor. Once we finish that, we can either see about the third floor or finish up the main level.”
The reason we’re here. Right. “Okay,” I say meekly.
“Cassandra, I—” He lifts his head and, though his mouth keeps working, his words dry up.
I’ve been able to convince myself that Apollo wasn’t looking at me likethatup to this point, but there’s no denying it now. Not when we’re the only two people in this room. There’s no reason to pretend, no one to perform for. He stares at the point where I’ve tucked the towel in over my breasts like he can will it to untuck through sheer force of concentration. As if he wants to see me without anything at all.
As if he…wants me. A lot.
I have the most absurd urge to drop the towel. To see what he’ll do, if he’ll cross the distance between us and fulfill the promise alighting his dark eyes. Will he be gentle? Even better, will he use that deliciously firm voice with me as he instructs me on what he wants me to do? I shiver.
That seems to snap him out of it. He shakes his head roughly. “If you’re done with the bathroom, I’ll take a shower.”
The sinking feeling in my stomach most certainly isn’t disappointment. I step aside. “I’m done.”
Apollo doesn’t move until I make my way around the edge of the bed to where our luggage is. I’ve hung up most of my dresses, but there are still a few things in the suitcase itself. I hear the bathroom door shut and turn around to find him gone.
We haven’t talked about the details of how we’ll do our after-hours snooping, and it belatedly occurs to me that we have a problem. Once Minos realizes the cameras aren’t doing their job, surely he’ll set up some kind of security patrol. I haven’t seen any on the grounds but…
I stop short.
I haven’t seen any security on the grounds. That doesn’t make any sense. We havesixof the Thirteen here, and they never travel without teams, even if those teams excel at subtlety. Why in the gods’ names would they agree to come to the country without their security in place? I know why Apollo did, but the rest of them?
There’s no way they’re that arrogant, right?
I shake my head. Yes, they definitely are that arrogant. They all believe they’re untouchable. Even Apollo, though he’s less obscene about it. I dig through my suitcase. Normally, I sleep in the nude, but obviously that’s not an option for this trip. I shouldn’t have let Psyche convince me to add pajamas to the list of things we bought from Juliette, but after she bullied me into trying them on, I couldn’t resist.
Not to mention Hera insisted on my purchasing one of everything. Not even I was willing to argue with her when she had that glint in her dark eyes.
There are several shorts-and-tank-top combos that seem innocent until I put them on. The way they hug my curvy body makes me feel so sexy, they should be illegal. And then there are the other ones. They’re a short shift-dress style that, again, looks chaste enough until I put it on. I don’t know what clever magic Juliette pulled with the sewing, but they fit as if made for a body like mine. Not clinging where they shouldn’t and gaping elsewhere. The damn things were created for seduction.
I should have said no. Ishouldhave stopped on the way home and picked up some fleece pajamas that cover me from neck to ankles. Or at least leggings and a T-shirt. I even packed some of the latter in case I chickened out.
I run my hands over the pajamas. I’m not quite brave enough to go that route, no matter how hot Apollo’s gaze felt on me. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make him squirm a little? He did yell at me, after all.
The excuse feels flimsy at best, but I quickly pull on one of the sets, a matching black one with red lace at the top of the tank and the bottom of the shorts that is almost the same color as my hair. I braid my hair back from my face and am just wondering what I should do next when Apollo steps out of the bathroom. He’s wearing a pair of lounge pants…and nothing else.
I try to look at his face, but I don’t try that hard. How can I when he’s shirtless for the first time since I’ve known him and he’s been hidingthatbody beneath his perfectly tailored suits? Oh, I knew he had muscles; I felt them every time I pressed against him in the name of our fake relationship.
But seeing them is another experience entirely.