Three cars were parked in the circular driveway. A silver Lexus, yellow Hummer, and a red Lamborghini.
“Are those all yours?” she asked as she unbuckled her seatbelt, jabbing her chin in the direction of the vehicles.
“Yes, those are a few of my cars,” he said, turning off the engine. “The rest are in the garage. Help yourself to any of them. Assuming you know how to drive a stick?” He smiled and winked.
She took the bait. “I love driving a stick. So much power in my hands. The freedom to move as fast as I want. The control.”
The smile faded, replaced with raw desire. “I’ll get your suitcase from the trunk.”
Here she’d told him she wouldn’t have sex, and the first chance she got, she teased him with sexual innuendo. Not only would she have to learn to keep her hands to herself, she’d have to keep her mouth closed too. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
She got out of the car as Braden slammed the trunk shut and carried her bag past the fountain and toward the front door. With her purse over her shoulder, she followed, but stopped at the statue to get a better look.
It seemed familiar. And it frightened her a bit to tell the truth.
“You like that? He came with the house,” Braden commented as he strode to stand beside her.
She shivered and not just from the cold. “Who is he?”
“Achelous. The Greek River God.”
Her teeth chattered. “Never heard of him. He wasn’t in ‘The Odyssey’ or any of Sherrilyn Kenyon’s books.”
He laughed. “No, I wasn’t familiar with him either until I moved in and then I Googled him.”
“Yeah? What does Google have to say about him?”
“Achelous and Hercules both loved the same nymph, Deianeira. It’s said Achelous changed into a bull to fight Hercules, but Hercules won and tore Achelous’s horn. Then Naiades, some sort of mermaid, retrieved the horn and gave it back to him filled with flowers. This statue is a replica of one in Versailles, France.”
Achelous held a cornucopia of flowers, not an ice cream cone. He was actually kind of attractive for an old guy, but something told her his body wasn’t the only thing made of stone. His heart was as well.
Like a warning, a chill ran through her. “For some reason, he creeps me out. Good thing I’m only moving in temporarily or I’d remove his ugly toga-ed ass from the property.”
“Right. Good thing.” He slapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Why don’t we get you inside where it’s warm?”
They walked up the steps to the porch. He lifted her bag and turned the doorknob, motioning with a wave of his hand for her to go inside.
The beauty of the entranceway alone robbed her of air—white and gray marble floors, tall ceilings, and a crystal chandelier hanging over a shiny wood table which held a crystal vase of flowers. This room alone was worth more than everything she owned. How could she live here? She’d stain the floor with the sole of her shoe or bump into the table and shatter the vase. What had she gotten herself into?
He dropped the suitcase in front of the marble staircase and took her hand. She couldn’t let him know how all this intimidated her, so she shrugged as they walked past the table and into a large room with three brown leather couches and furniture which obviously came as a set, unlike her mismatched pieces of borrowed furniture. “Nice.” Her gaze swept the room stopping on a blob of silver fur curled up on the couch. “For the love of Moses, what is that thing?”
Braden laughed and walked to it then sat and patted it on its head. “You know him. This is Zeus the cat. Ryan and Portia made me take him in because Ryan’s allergic. It’s only temporary, until I find him a permanent home.”
Oh, yeah, her sister had mentioned they’d inherited a cat along with the house, but she’d never seen him when she visited. “How’d my sister sucker you into that? Did she give you a little pout and a tear?” Something passed over his face. Yep, she nailed it. “She got you good and you totally fell for it.”
He continued to pet the cat, rubbing him behind his ears. “She didn’t want him to end up in a shelter. He’s twenty. It’s not like anyone would adopt him.”
She frowned. “How long do cats normally live?”
“Vet said fourteen to seventeen years, give or take.”
She joined him on the couch. “And Zeus is twenty? Go, Zeus! I want to know your secret.”
The cat meowed and stood, arching his back in a stretch. He padded over to her and settled on her lap before closing his eyes and purring. “Huh? I guess this means he likes me.” She scratched his neck and caught Braden watching her with interest. “What?”