Page 17 of Loved By Aphrodite

He wasn’t here.

Thank goodness, because that meant she didn’t have to stay. She teleported back to Mount Olympus, right outside Hephaestus’s house. She had been gone so long, so surely he should be done by now? He did say to check in after twelve hours and it had been long past that.

She entered the house and headed straight to his workshop, stopping in the first room. That familiar scent of wood, metal, and the warmth of the smelting fires soothed her and eased away her anxieties and bad memories. While the next room contained all the modern contraptions Hephaestus seemingly preferred these days, she liked this place better. It was more him, at least the him she knew in those days of their marriage. This place reminded her of his other workshop, the one he had built in the home they shared.

After they had successfully taken away Cyncus’s magic and whisked Eros away from Vale Crossing, they couldn’t go to Mount Olympus as Eros was still a mortal demi-god. And so, the three of them lived on a remote island where no one would find them, only occasionally going to Mount Olympus when necessary. She had been surprised when Hephaestus declared that he would be living there, too, but he insisted it was only to keep up appearances in front of the other gods and Zeus. They could not risk his wrath, not after what they had done to Cyncus,and certainly not before Eros had a chance to partake of the golden apple.

And so, they lived there, watching over and raising Eros for the next fifteen years. It had been such a short span of time compared to the thousands of years they lived that sometimes it had felt like she had imagined it. But at that time, it had been more like a sweet, lucid dream after the nightmare she had lived through. Hephaestus had been there through it all, helping with Eros, building him his first bow, and even finding an instructor to teach Eros how to shoot. He taught him things that his biological father should have done.

Her heart clenched. She hadn’t thought of those days in a long while. There were pockets of happiness, yes, but the overwhelming feeling she remembered now was the guilt. Even thinking about it now made her anxiety seep back in, so she pushed it aside.

“Hello?” she called as she entered his main workshop. All the computer screens were lit up and the PCs whirred audibly, but Hephaestus was nowhere to be found. Was he still in Alaska?

A faint sound caught her attention. It sounded like water. Curious, she followed the sound until she reached a door at the other end of the workshop. She reached for the handle to open it, but instead it opened by itself.

“What—mmphh!”

A force slammed her up against the wall and a large hand clamped over the lower half of her face as a hard, muscled body pressed up against her.

“Who the hell—Aphrodite?”

She blinked up at him as his dark eyes widened. Both remained still, and a thrill ran up her spine at the feel of his chest against hers. A very naked chest.

“Sorry. I thought you were an intruder.” He dropped his hands to his side and stepped away, clutching the white towelat his waist. For some reason, disappointment filled her that he was only half naked, though she couldn’t stop staring at his wide chest, remembering how she would watch him work at the forges without his shirt on, hammering at the anvil while sweat poured down his golden skin, pounding and pounding on?—

“Ahem. Aphrodite?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Wha—oh?” Her head snapped up to meet his gaze. “I, uh…I was wondering if that program of yours was done?” Something was different about him, but he quickly turned away before she could figure out what.

“Yeah, we can take a look. I just got back from Alaska. Let me finish getting dressed and I’ll check on the progress.”

“Uh, sure.” Backing away, she left his shower room and closed the door behind her. She pressed her palms to her cheeks, feeling the warmth there. When was the last time she’d felt embarrassed? She frankly couldn’t remember, especially not when gazing at a fine male form.

And Hephaestus truly was fine.

She swallowed hard. Despite all their years together on that island, nothing had happened between them. They were like roommates, living in the same house, but never shared a bed. Hephaestus never left the island to visit any lovers; as Goddess of Love, she would have known. For fifteen years, he remained loyal to her, to their vows, and their marriage. So had she, but that was more a response to the trauma she experienced with Cyncus. Perhaps that’s why the guilt had built more over the?—

“Aphrodite?”

“Yes?” She spun around. “Have you…” Her breath caught in her throat. He was now dressed in a tight, long-sleeved henley shirt that stretched across his chest and wrapped tight around his torso and a pair of blue jeans. Back in the old days, he had never cared for dressing up, preferring comfortable outfits over whatever was in fashion. In the last couple of days, he had beendressed in clothes that had seen better days, and scuffed work-boots. The clothes he currently wore looked brand new and fit much better. However, what had truly taken her by surprise was his face—she could actually see more of it with the beard neatly trimmed now. His hair, too, was cropped short and close to his head. His tidied hair and beard allowed more of his features to shine through, like his sharp, straight nose, high cheekbones, and full lips.

“Have I what?”

She cleared her throat, her cheeks heating once more. “Nothing. I mean, can we take a look at that program?”

Wordlessly, he walked past her toward the wall of screens on the other end. Her nose detected the slightest scent of a spicy aftershave and warmth pooled in her belly at the sexy, designer smell. She grabbed onto the edge of the table as her knees buckled.

Get yourself together!

With a calming breath, she followed him as he hunched back over the keyboard, typing away as lines of code flew across the screen, hewing and humming every now and then. A few minutes later, his fingers stopped and he pushed away from the desk, muttering a curse under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, gripping the back of his chair. “Did your program work?”

“No.” He blew out a breath.

“Why not? I thought you said you could pull things apart and work around it?”

“I could…if I used the same type of magic as Eros. I can’t even get near whatever spell he’s buried deep in there because my powers simply aren’t capable of handling it. It’s like trying to use Python when a computer only speaks Java.”

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