Blood of Zeus: Book One by Meredith Wild & Angel Payne

Blood of Zeus: Book One by Meredith Wild & Angel Payne

Author:Meredith Wild & Angel Payne [Wild, Meredith & Payne, Angel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781642632187
Publisher: Waterhouse Press


Chapter Sixteen

Maximus

On a last-minute whim a few years back, I decided to try running the LA Marathon. I ended up carrying another guy for the last five miles, since he’d promised his girlfriend he’d see her at the finish line despite the lung disease kicking his ass. His name was Montague. He insisted I call him Monty. And the grin on his face never vanished, despite how he’d hardly been able to breathe.

Right now, I feel like changing my name to Monty.

Because somehow I’ve made it through the last hour talking about the pitfalls of primitivity, lust, and unbridled appetites without giving in to a single one of mine. And without casting so much as a glance toward the woman who’s still searing me with her simple presence.

I can do this. Already have done it. Mostly.

Only three minutes left…

Screw it.

“I say no more to you, answer no more.”

As soon as I’m done reciting the line from Canto VI, I close my leather-bound book with a one-handed whomp. “That seems like a serendipitous place to stop for the day, yes?”

I’m answered with a collective groan of relief from across the room. I raise my voice so my follow-up cuts through the din of rustling backpacks and reactivated phones.

“To be clear, ladies and gentlemen, my leniency extends no further than this early dismissal. Your term project proposals are still due by five p.m. today. That’s a printed version, bound in proper format, on my desk in the Archer Building. This project is worth fifty percent of your grade.”

By the time I conclude the speech, it’s clear I’ve been tuned out in favor of chattering about tonight’s events. The Conquistador Crush is one of the highlights of the school year at Alameda, a ten-day whirlwind kicked off by a formal fundraiser ball, a rock concert on the campus green, and then a four-day weekend carnival.

Tonight I have to don a monkey suit and make an obligatory appearance at the formal bash. The fact that they’re staging this year’s event in the library courtyard, literally steps from my office door, is little consolation. At least I’ll have a good excuse for escaping the throng. There should be a good-sized stack of papers on my desk before the afternoon has waned.

The emptied hall should give me some relief. But as long as Kara remains, I can’t erase the visceral awareness of her. Pretending to ignore her through the hour hasn’t stopped every drop of my blood from percolating for her—especially in this moment, when her stubborn stillness forces me to raise my stare to her.

“Goddamn.”

The word escapes me, primal and guttural, as I fully take her in. The dark gleam of her loose-braided hair. The enticing pearl buttons of her silky white blouse, and the matching zipper pulls of her pristine ankle boots.

But most of all, another pair of sleek and sinful jeans—black this time—hugging every line below the waist as she rises up and crosses the short distance between us.

“Kara.”

“Maximus,” she replies in an equally icy tone.



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