Eros

Chapter 5: Home in a Strange Land

He climbed out of the horseless carriage, followed Angie and her father into the house. He admired the soaring ceilings and all of its carvings. The chamber had very little furniture. The floor appeared to be made of the same type of rock he was used to, though Eros knew it was nowhere as genuine.

"Who is that?" He paused, staring at more paintings on the soaring walls. Her home was grandiose compared to the royal ship he traveled. Perhaps she was a princess? He gazed at Angie who stood a few feet behind him.

She giggled, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "That is Cupid," she answered his question.

"Cupid?" Eros choked with a shake of his head. "No, that cannot be. Cupid is nothing more than a pudgy baby with impotent arrows and sparrow's wings here. How can he make anyone fall in love?"

Her laughter spiraled around him like musical notes. "He just does. That woman there is—"

"Aphrodite, yes, his mother." He lifted his fingers and grazed the textured paint across the canvas. "She is not very beautiful."

"These are just the imaginings of the artist. I'm sure that the ancient Greeks thought she was much more."

Eros fidgeted. He did not like how Angie's gaze burned the side of his face. It was not one of admiration, he knew. It was also one of serious consideration. She was too keen for her own goodness.

"Eros, this is Maria, she will show you to the guest house," Angie's father called Daddy said.

Eros turned and followed his nod, and found a pretty young woman with her black hair tied in a knot at her nape. Her large, brown eyes widened and her mouth fell as she breathed in sharply.

"Do you not have luggage, senyor?" she asked in peculiar accent. She moved her face as if she gazed around Eros, her eyes never leaving his.

"No. Just me." He lifted his arms to indicate he was all he had with him.

"Very well, if you follow me, I will show you."

"Uh, Eros?"

Eros turned around after a few steps and felt Angie's light touch against his elbow. He arched a single brow as he studied her face. Her eyes fell to his lips, her lips parting as the pulse at her neck leaped.

Her face reddened, her touch dropping. "Good night. I'm just glad you made it safe—you know, not falling asleep and finding yourself back home?"

Eros grinned. She was, in fact, his rescuer. "Yes, you saved me from a most horrible embarrassment. I must thank you." He closed the space between them and glided his hands on either side of her face. Ignoring the father's throat clearing, he brushed his lips across hers.

Angie was breathless. Angie was soft. Angie was his.

Eros pulled away, his lips widening into a bright smile. "Sleep well."

"This way, senyor," the maid said, scowling as she led him through the house and down a cobbled pathway outside. "Not too far."

He watched the gentle sway of her hips and wondered if the goddesses walked that way. He never noticed since everyone glided from place to place. They hardly used their feet unless playing discus or other sports. He had certainly noticed her frown. Did that mean she felt unkindness toward him?

The maid stopped at a door and put her hand on the doorknob, her eyes on his mouth. "I know I am not supposed to speak to Mr. Taylor's guests, but I can't help myself."

Eros smiled, unable to help his nature as the god of love. "Too much talking. Do not talk."

"Si, but—"