Page 359 of The First Taste

I scrunch up my face. “Hades?”

He rolls his head on his shoulders. “What?”

“I’ll need a phone.”

His head snaps toward me, his look black as night. “What for?”

I straighten my spine, shooting him a glare. “Research.”

He studies my face for a few moments, clearly measuring my worth. “Okay. But Persephone…”

He leans forward, catching my hand. I still, my eyes widening. His free hand comes up to cup my face, then it slides around to grip the back of my neck.

“Dinnae forget what we have just agreed upon. And dinnae think that I’ll forget, either.”

I stare into his green eyes, blinking rapidly. “Of course,” I whisper.

His lips twitch. His eyes slide down to my mouth, then to my tits even though they are covered.

My nipples pebble, stiffening at the attention. The breath leaves my lungs in a soft gasp.

He could have me right now. Right here, on this uncomfortable wicker couch, out in the open where anyone could see. I would let him.

No, I would encourage him.

I think that fact is written across my face. He smirks for a half second before he turns me loose, shoving me back.

He points a finger at me. “Make the list, sweetheart.”

Then he gets up and swaggers off, disappearing from view. And I am left, cursing myself and my terrible taste in men.

If I had any sense, I would take that sexual tension and shove it deep down somewhere.

I would certainly be safer that way.

Hades is a vicious psychopath. I know that.

And still…

Standing up on wobbly legs, I head to my room to start making my list.

Hades

As I step off the plane onto the tarmac at a private airport, I stretch. The Valencia sun beams brightly, drenching the entire world in light. It’s less hot here than it was in Turks and Caicos, thank god. As a Scot who wears black suits almost without exception, I was definitely ready to get the fuck out of the tropics.

It’s warm here, but it’s a sultry Mediterranean heat. I glance toward the little airport, fishing a pair of sunglasses out of my pocket.

The tiny building reflects the city; white sandstone walls, neat shadowy portcullis style windows, red clay tiles on the roof. It feels so distinctly European that I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding in for the last few weeks.

Persephone descends the staircase just behind me, shading her eyes. She points to the outcropping of the city only a few miles away, sitting high on a cliff overlooking a truly spectacular aqua ocean.

“That is just…” She shakes her head, something like awe in her eyes. “Stunning. When I was in art school, I wanted to study abroad in Barcelona. But my parents said it was too expensive.”

She wrinkles her nose delicately.

My lips twitch. “Well, now yer here. Maybe we can see art while we are here.”

She looks at me, her eyebrows rising. “Really?”