Sun God Seeks…Surrogate? (Accidentally Yours #3)(36)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“Nice to know I wasn’t alone,” I mumbled.

He threaded his fingers through his hair. “I have yet to find a reason or to come to terms with it, but the need to be with you, to be physical, is extremely”—he peered into my eyes—“potent.”

“Potent?” I gulped.

His fierce gaze burrowed into me as he nodded slowly.

If we hadn’t slept together yet, then I sure as heck wanted to now. If we had, then I wanted him again. And again and again and again. I wanted to feel his hard flesh buried deep inside my body. I wanted to feel the friction of his sculpted chest against my br**sts.

“Wow. Is it getting really hot in here?” I fanned my face with my hand.

Without breaking his hungry gaze, he replied, “Yes, very, very…hot.”

I was about to lean forward and show him exactly what I meant by “hot,” but then he turned away and said, “But we can never be together. We are not of the same ilk, Penelope.”

Ilk? Was he trying to say I wasn’t good enough for him? That I was from some lower class not worthy of his greatness?

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked in a not-so-happy tone.

“There is no future for two beings as ourselves. We live in different worlds, and I am forever bound to my role—its very nature precludes having a life with a human woman—or any woman.”

“Oh.” That was a better response than I’d expected. At least he wasn’t shunning me for being human. But still, I didn’t know how to respond without sounding needy or pathetic. Because what I really wanted to say was, “Are you out of your frigging mind? You can’t throw up your hands! You giant stubborn ass!”

He continued, “I struggled with the limitations of my existence for thousands of years, but eventually, I grew to accept the truth: My plight is eternal. It does little good to fantasize about it changing.”

Once again, he turned his gaze on me, and I thought I might turn into a pathetic little puddle of nothingness. The sting of rejection bit hard.

“And believe me, Penelope,” he said with a gravelly voice, “after the things I’ve dreamt of doing to you, it would break a mortal man’s soul in half to walk away. But I have no other choice.”

How could he simply accept there was no hope for change in his life, no hope for us? As petty as it might be, I suddenly felt angry. “Funny how your brother seems to disagree. Didn’t you say he’s marrying a Payal?”

Nick sprung from the couch. “Because he is a selfish fool. It’s only a matter of time before he is forced to choose his duties over Emma. He will hurt her.”

I didn’t know what to say. His resolve, his belief was ironclad. And if he didn’t think love was worth fighting for, then maybe he wasn’t the man I thought.

Maybe he just doesn’t think you’re worth fighting for.

Ouch. Thank you, self-deprecating thoughts. Your timing is impeccable. Shoo!

“I will see you through this ordeal, Penelope. And then we will go our separate ways.” He moved toward the doorway that led to the bedroom wing of the house.

“Are you sure about your destiny?” I asked.

He stopped, but did not bother to turn around. “I am a god. I am always sure.”

Who knew a man filled with so much heat could be so cold.

CHAPTER 20

I paced the length of my room for about twenty minutes before deciding I wasn’t buying his “I’m a god, so don’t argue with me” garbage. At a minimum, he owed me an explanation about our plans to save my mom if Viktor didn’t return. And how could she possibly be a Payal but not know? How could I be a Payal and not know? And if we were Payals, what exactly did it mean? Was I inherently evil?

I wanted my answers. This was my life! Mine. And nobody would take away my right to drive the Penelope-mobile.

Go take that man his lemons, Penelope!

I searched the living room and kitchen—a very nice stainless steel and granite-everything kitchen—but saw no signs of Nick. I found it hard to believe he would go far when monsters had my name on their hit list.

Then I went to Nick’s room but didn’t see him there either. (Again, I resisted looking at what was in his nightstand, which almost killed me.) When I turned to leave, a movement outside the large French-style glass doors caught my attention.

Nick.

He was soaking in the swimming pool, his bronzed face tilted toward the hot sun and powder blue sky. His muscular arms stretched along the edge of the pool, and the swells of his insanely powerful biceps sparked a wave of tension deep in my belly, reminding me that when all was said and done, humans were still animals.

Grunt, grunt. Me want big, strong, stubborn man. Me like. Grunt, grunt.

Yes, he spoke to my inner cave girl in a way I’d never comprehend. How incredibly frustrating, given how he’d flat-out rejected me.

I swallowed hard, slid open the door, and stepped onto the sprawling flagstone patio. I sucked in a lungful of the fresh desert air from the gentle breeze.

Breathtaking.

The area surrounding his estate was a tropical oasis of palm trees, lush green plants, and bright tropical flowers—oranges, yellows, and reds—that contrasted with the monochromatic starkness of the surrounding desert. On one side of the yard was a fifteen-foot wall made up of stacked boulders. A waterfall ran down their smooth rounded faces and flowed into a pebble-lined trough that trickled into the swimming pool. Opposite the waterfall, stood an enormous adobe chiminea with overstuffed chairs.

This was the perfect place to lie in the sun, sip a piña colada, and relax with a good book.

Or make out. With Nick.

Ugh! Stop that!

I marched over to the pool and hovered above him. “Hi.”

He remained perfectly still, his face tilted toward the afternoon sun.

“Nick, we need to talk.”

No movement.

“Oh, the silent treatment. I get it. Big bad Sun God is going to ignore the pesky little human. Well, I have news for you; we’re not done yet, and I’m not going to scurry away like some timid little monkey”—I’d much more like to dry hump you like a dirty little monkey—“even if you are a god.”

No response.

“Okay. Fine.” I pulled off my shirt and jeans, leaving on my black bra and underwear, and slipped into the shallow water, right beside him.

“I’m not leaving until we talk. But now that I have your undivided, divine attention, I’d like to say that I’m extremely disappointed. I mean, I get let in on the big news—there are actual, real live gods living on the planet—but instead of it being a nirvana-like experience where I feel enlightened and inspired, I just feel sad. Wanna know why?”