Accidentally in Love with…a God?(Accidentally Yours #1)(43)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“So it’s not some weird force field of protection?” I wondered.

“Nope. Sorry. You’re still susceptible to colds, accidents, and horribly psychotic Maaskab. The bond simply creates a connection, a current of energy that links you to Guy ”

“Guy mentioned that’s why Cimil fought to protect me.” It all sounded so strange to me. Bonds, oaths, it was like a supernatural fraternity.

“The gods are compelled to protect you as one of their own—their light runs through you. You saw how Cimil was with the rest of us,” he replied.

“You’re not under their protection?”

Tommaso’s eyes drifted to my chest.

“Hey! Stop that.” I scooped a few handfuls of bubbles and made a larger heap over my br**sts.

He arched a brow. “Sorry. Can’t help it. You have very nice bubbles.”

I rolled my eyes. “Time for you to leave.”

He stuck out his lower lip making an exaggerated pout, his golden eyes sparkling. “Fine, but to answer your question, it’s a different for us Uchben. We gave our oath to them.”

“And you can break it—leave at any time?” I asked.

“Yes, Emma. I’m not a prisoner. I’m an Uchben because this is how I choose to live,” he said.

“How did you become one?” I wondered if they recruited in malls. Or maybe online?

“My father was an archeologist, working in Guatemala, when his camp was attacked by a group of Maaskab. He was found by the Uchben, barely alive. After he recovered, they made him an offer. I think he said yes, just because he’d have access to so many resources. He became one of the Uchben.”

“That’s strange. He decided to be a soldier?”

“No. He didn’t become a guard, he continued his work. There are Uchben of every imaginable kind: doctors, scholars, politicians, even beauticians.”

That explained Tommaso’s fabulous haircut.

“Well, whatever you choose to do, Emma, about the oath, just remember, you have other options.”

“Options. Do you mean, like you? Protecting me, I mean?” A very large part of me hoped he’d say no. Tommaso was smart, mysterious, handsome, strong, had a sense of humor, and was…human. That alone felt special. If he said “yes,” it would change things, make life much more complicated. Because maybe I needed both Guy and Tommaso, just in different ways. One belonged to reality and the other, well, to my fantasies and nightmares.

“Absolutely.” He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on my mouth, then left.

Hiccup!

Chapter TWENTY-SIX

“Votan, I’ve heard so much about you. What a pleasure! A true pleasure.” The slender, aged man with a graying beard vigorously shook Guy’s hand and then practically yanked him through the front door of his Italian countryside-style cottage. Guy had heard many stories about the eccentric Catholic priest, but no one mentioned his exuberance.

“Kind of you to make time for me, Father Xavier. I’ve heard great things about your work.”

“Please, call me Xavier. I don’t go by Father anymore.” He pointed to his collarless neck and chuckled. He wore a blue running suit and slippers.

Father Xavier worked in the Vatican City archives for thirty years until he retired to work for the Uchben. He was one of their most famous scholars. He now lived on the compound and ran the Uchben’s Historical Research Department. They’d originally sought him out because he was an expert on Mesoamerican culture, Greek mythology, and the works of Friar Bernardino de Sahagún, the Franciscan missionary who traveled with the early Spanish explorers, documenting the Aztec and Mayan folklore.

“As you wish, Xavier, thank you for making time so late in the evening.”

“Any time. I can’t tell you how excited I am to meet you in the flesh,” Xavier said, fervently looking Guy up and down as if he were a rare relic.

It didn’t bother Guy much. He was used to being treated like a, well, god. Except by Emma. She treated him like a used doormat. That’s right, a used one. Because new doormats were at least shown the respect of being proudly displayed at the front door. Used ones got thrown out back to collect dirt and mud from the yard.

Really, who did she think she was, anyway? Toying with him like that. One minute she was throwing herself at that unworthy human, Tommaso. Then she was rubbing her tempting little body to all over him. And it wasn’t because he had powerful pheromones, either. He’d been suppressing them around her. Best he could, anyway. After all, keeping his emotions in check was a challenge around her. But did she honestly believe she could manipulate him into letting her call her parents? She must have been able to sense his lust for her through the bond. She thought to control him with it. And, ho-ho, and what a masterful performance! Nearly had him convinced!

That’s not why you left, though, is it? It’s because you can’t have her, and you know it. And what about at the cenote? You felt her lust then. No faking it there.

He felt the heavy thud of doubt kick him in the gut. She couldn’t—it’s not…no. Impossible. She’d told him a hundred times how much she hated him and wanted him gone. She’d rejected his protection, and even now, she seemed to want nothing more than to return home and take her chances with the Maaskab.

But despite the bitter words she’d repeated over the years, his mind couldn’t help but toy with the notion of Emma’s desire perhaps being genuine.

He swallowed hard.

If it had been, then she’d now be more furious than ever for the way he’d walked out.

She’d be bat-shit-livid.

He now needed to know if she’d just been pretending. Why was dealing with women so difficult?

Stop your whining and man up! You’re a warrior. A god. You were put on this Earth to fight and protect. Not fuddle around like a love-sick human. He sighed.

“Oh, manners. Such terrible manners. Please, sit Votan, or Mr. Santiago? What do you go by these days?”

“You can call me Guy.”

Xavier raised one brow. “Guy Santiago. An odd choice for such a being of your stature, but modern—yes, I like it.”

Guy shrugged, “That’s what Emma calls me. I guess I’ve become accustomed to it.”

Xavier gave one polite nod. “Can I get you tea? Coffee? Oh, I know. A nice Chianti.” Xavier swept away a large stack of magazines from the small dining table. They all had a woman named Tyra on the cover.

“Wine will be fine, thank you.” Guy took a seat at the table, barely fitting on the tiny cherry wood chair. “Listen, Xavier, I do not need to tell you how sensitive what I’m about to tell you is.”