“Oh.” I should have asked about that before I stormed off.
“I already searched the room again for bugs. It’s clean. The rest of the household should be settled down soon and then we can see about mapping out the second floor. Once we finish that, we can either see about the third floor or finish up the main level.”
The reason we’re here. Right. “Okay,” I say meekly.
“Cassandra, I—” He lifts his head and, though his mouth keeps working, his words dry up.
I’ve been able to convince myself that Apollo wasn’t looking at me like that up to this point, but there’s no denying it now. Not when we’re the only two people in this room. There’s no reason to pretend, no one to perform for. He stares at the point where I’ve tucked the towel in over my breasts like he can will it to untuck through sheer force of concentration. As if he wants to see me without anything at all.
As if he…wants me. A lot.
I have the most absurd urge to drop the towel. To see what he’ll do, if he’ll cross the distance between us and fulfill the promise alighting his dark eyes. Will he be gentle? Even better, will he use that deliciously firm voice with me as he instructs me on what he wants me to do? I shiver.
That seems to snap him out of it. He shakes his head roughly. “If you’re done with the bathroom, I’ll take a shower.”
The sinking feeling in my stomach most certainly isn’t disappointment. I step aside. “I’m done.”
Apollo doesn’t move until I make my way around the edge of the bed to where our luggage is. I’ve hung up most of my dresses, but there are still a few things in the suitcase itself. I hear the bathroom door shut and turn around to find him gone.
We haven’t talked about the details of how we’ll do our after-hours snooping, and it belatedly occurs to me that we have a problem. Once Minos realizes the cameras aren’t doing their job, surely he’ll set up some kind of security patrol. I haven’t seen any on the grounds but…
I stop short.
I haven’t seen any security on the grounds. That doesn’t make any sense. We have six of the Thirteen here, and they never travel without teams, even if those teams excel at subtlety. Why in the gods’ names would they agree to come to the country without their security in place? I know why Apollo did, but the rest of them?
There’s no way they’re that arrogant, right?
I shake my head. Yes, they definitely are that arrogant. They all believe they’re untouchable. Even Apollo, though he’s less obscene about it. I dig through my suitcase. Normally, I sleep in the nude, but obviously that’s not an option for this trip. I shouldn’t have let Psyche convince me to add pajamas to the list of things we bought from Juliette, but after she bullied me into trying them on, I couldn’t resist.
Not to mention Hera insisted on my purchasing one of everything. Not even I was willing to argue with her when she had that glint in her dark eyes.
There are several shorts-and-tank-top combos that seem innocent until I put them on. The way they hug my curvy body makes me feel so sexy, they should be illegal. And then there are the other ones. They’re a short shift-dress style that, again, looks chaste enough until I put it on. I don’t know what clever magic Juliette pulled with the sewing, but they fit as if made for a body like mine. Not clinging where they shouldn’t and gaping elsewhere. The damn things were created for seduction.
I should have said no. I should have stopped on the way home and picked up some fleece pajamas that cover me from neck to ankles. Or at least leggings and a T-shirt. I even packed some of the latter in case I chickened out.
I run my hands over the pajamas. I’m not quite brave enough to go that route, no matter how hot Apollo’s gaze felt on me. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make him squirm a little? He did yell at me, after all.
The excuse feels flimsy at best, but I quickly pull on one of the sets, a matching black one with red lace at the top of the tank and the bottom of the shorts that is almost the same color as my hair. I braid my hair back from my face and am just wondering what I should do next when Apollo steps out of the bathroom. He’s wearing a pair of lounge pants…and nothing else.
I try to look at his face, but I don’t try that hard. How can I when he’s shirtless for the first time since I’ve known him and he’s been hiding that body beneath his perfectly tailored suits? Oh, I knew he had muscles; I felt them every time I pressed against him in the name of our fake relationship.
But seeing them is another experience entirely.
He’s not absurdly carved or anything. But his chest is defined and I kind of want to take a bite out of his biceps. I give myself a shake and drag my eyes to his face. He’s not smirking at the fact that I’m practically drooling on the floor, though.
No, he’s staring at my thighs.
I tense, fighting the urge to cover myself. Not out of shame or discomfort. More like in instinctive need to retreat, to see if he’ll stalk across the distance between us and rip my hand away so he can look his fill.
I lick my lips. Focus. We have to focus. “Apollo.” His name comes out too low, too intimate. I can do better than this. I know I can. I reach for something logical and reasonable to say that isn’t “Take off your pants right now.” I clear my throat. “We can’t just wander around in the dark, obviously casing the place. Do you have a plan?”
“I did have a plan. It was a very good plan, but then you put on those pajamas.” He clears his throat and subtly adjusts his pants. Holy shit, Apollo is hard. For me. “Now I’m having a hard time remembering what it is.”
Lust clogs my brain, threatening to wash away what’s left of my good intentions. A surge of desire rushes through my body and my nipples pebble. “I can’t think when you look at me like that.”
A flush creeps over his chest and up his neck. “We have a job to do.”
He’s right. I know he’s right. I lick my lips. “What if… We’re dating, right? Or that’s what they believe. If we’re caught, we can just say we’re, uh, exploring the kinky rooms for kinky purposes. Exhibition. That sort of thing.” I can’t believe how normal my voice sounds. As if my heart isn’t trying to beat its way out of my chest and closer to Apollo. As if I’m not about to go to my knees before him and beg for him to touch me.
“We were explicitly told they’re not kinky anymore.”
“Maybe we forgot.” I don’t know what I’m saying. This isn’t furthering the plan to explore the second floor. It’s pure, selfish desire. I stare at the line of his shoulders. I want to trace it with my tongue. “I’m feeling very forgetful right now.”
“Me too.” The words come out lower. Deeper. He holds my gaze. The Apollo I know is there, of course—even when he was yelling at me earlier, he was so purely Apollo—but I’ve never seen this side of him before. He feels almost…dangerous. He seems to force himself to look away, his jaw tight. “Cassandra.”
Oh no. He’s about to do something honorable. “Apollo, I—”
“You don’t have to do this. By inviting me, Minos all but dared me to find out what he’s really about. Once he realizes the cameras are down, he’ll know who’s to blame. If you want to keep things…simple…we can say we’re going to get you a glass of water or something of that nature.”