Accidentally in Love with…a God?(Accidentally Yours #1)(55)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“I thought it was garbage somebody dumped there,” I answered defensively.

Guy hesitated. “It’s a weapon.”

“That little thing?” I stared at the offending, lifeless rock on the floor.

Guy snatched up the necklace. “Obviously, Emma won’t mind if we borrow this for a closer look.” Guy stopped and smirked. “But I’ll be sure you get it back.”

Oh. I bet he would. It was the magic key to Naughty-God Land.

Xavier looked sad. “Do you still believe Cimil is behind this?”

Guy gave him a consoling pat on the back. “I don’t know, my friend. If she is, she’ll pay.”

Poor Xavier. He seemed to have a case of hero-worship for Cimil.

Guy called the guards outside who appeared within seconds. “Call the leads in Mexico. Tell them to find Tommaso and ask him where he obtained this necklace. I want to know where the mine is.”

He shoved the necklace into his pocket. “Emma, I have to go.” He placed his index finger under my chin, tipping my head to meet his gaze. I was still in stun-mode from what just occurred.

Shame? Astonishment? Desperation? The wheel-of-emotions spun in my head. Click. Click. Click! Ah. There it was. Horror. That was a good one.

Necklace or no necklace, that insane display of reckless lust was all me. One-hundred percent Emma. Damn. What was I doing fooling around with the God of Death and War? This mess had grown far beyond the old predicament of me being obsessed with a seductive voice in my head. This was a whole other ball game.

I gave him a rigid nod, trying to conceal the mental breakdown I was preparing to unleash.

“Hey,” he said, sensing something was amiss. “I promise, I’ll be back as soon as I can, but I have to gather the chiefs. Now that we understand what we’re dealing with, we must rethink our strategy. Xavier will stay with you until I come back.” He grinned from ear to ear. “And then we’re going to finish this.”

I swallowed hard. “But—um…” Now that I’d gathered my wits, which had just returned from a joy ride in the hormone-mobile, I didn’t want to finish it. I wanted to run far, far away. First from him, then from myself. How could I have come so close to ha**ng s*x with the man who’d used me, tormented me, and manipulated me?

Oooh. But he’s so hot, Emma. Cliff! Cliff! the little voice in my head whined.

No, stop it, I scolded myself. This was getting way out of hand. He couldn’t be trusted. Ever. I had to remember that. I had an obligation to help Guy free the others so that they could take care of the Maaskab, so that my family would be safe, but after that, we were D.O.N.E.

My dream of status quo—being normal—was still possible. It didn’t matter I wasn’t one-hundred percent human. I was still the same person as before. Still Emma Keane. My life was still waiting for me to return to it and finally live it! And Guy didn’t belong there. I could hardly imagine a life with him. He’d be off killing people all day and then return home—the quaint little yellow house in the country with the vegetable garden—where I’d be waiting for him, turkey loaf dinner on the table.

Then, he’d say, “Hi honey. Give me a second while I rinse off all this blood.”

“Sure, babe,” I’d respond. And then we’d eat, sip wine, and share stories about our day. Me, I’d talk about my day at the office. Him, he’d talk about inciting death and war. For dessert, we’d eat cookies—okay, that part wouldn’t be so bad—then he’d try to make love to me without frying my brain. Dreamy.

And then there was the age gap—a seventy-thousand year difference. Not so bad, right? If we were fossils.

He had to see all these dead-ends, too. Didn’t he? And that meant only one thing; that little incident was simply recreational for him. He couldn’t see our relationship any other way.

There. It was decided. All doors leading to any imaginable “happily ever after” with Guy slammed shut. Dead bolted. Security chained. Chair propped against the handle. Closed.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be long,” he said, changing into a pair of black cargoes and a black t-shirt. He must have chosen that outfit on purpose. He looked solid, sleek, and irresistible.

On the other hand…who’s talking relationship here? What ever happened to casual sex?

Shut it, little voice! Stop that. I’m not putting that evil necklace back on. “Okay. See you later,” I said with a neutral tone.

He planted a possessive, mind-binding kiss on my mouth and ran out of the room, leaving me alone, flushed, with an overly anxious Xavier. No fun.

“Any advice?” I asked. “Besides a cold shower and a shrink?”

“Not really. But you’re quite the pioneer. Bedding Votan.” He scratched his chin. “And you broke the bond. Lots of firsts. You’re a fascinating creature.”

“Thanks.”

***

I didn’t want to sit around for hours waiting for Guy’s return, so I insisted Xavier take me to the clinic for those tests he’d asked for.

I’d imagined a small office with maybe a first-aid kit and a cot, but it was a small state-of-the-art hospital, complete with surgical ward, physical therapy, ICU, and everything I guessed a modern hospital needed. He said they preferred to have their own facility because it kept their activities under the radar. Especially since they treated the occasional bullet hole and Maaskab knife wound.

I spent a few minutes giving blood, plus an hour taking x-rays. He said he wanted a record of my physical make up for posterity. Then he sent me to go see the resident psychiatrist. Funny. How did he know I needed one so badly?

Unfortunately, Dr. Lugas had no interest in discussing my personal love life, which made me realize how much I missed my girlfriends. Dr. Lugas was all business. Sixty, only a few inches taller than me, and bald, he was clearly a fan of Italian cuisine. The red sauce stain on the lapel of his white lab coat said it all.

“How long’s this going to take?” I asked, looking at Xavier.

“He’s just going to ask a few questions. He’s an expert at evaluating tolerance for stress and assesses all our guards.”

“Mine will be about as impressive as a one year old.”

Dr. Lugas asked me some basic background questions for the first twenty minutes. Then, when he asked me to describe the most stressful situation I’d been in over the last few months, well, I had a hard time choosing.

Being pushed by a jaguar into a cenote and almost drowning?

Finding out that the man who called my head his home for the last twenty-two years is a god?