Devon returned to the kitchen, his pulse racing. Dancing with Rebecca had begun a stirring inside his heart, a heart he’d feared had remained stone even when Aphrodite had turned him back to flesh and blood. A stirring like the first tentative shoots of flowers in early spring. A promise of things to come, of things to change.

Am I capable of change? After spending the last two centuries caged in stone with no hope of escape or death, he’d had no thoughts of change, only survival or death. But he was free now, free in a way he’d never imaged and he was here with a woman unlike any he’d ever met before.

He’d learned more about her today while they’d shopped and spent time together than he ever had another soul. She was a woman who loved walking in the morning and seeing the sunrise crest the trees with its brilliant splash of colors. She had ambitions someday to run a museum, and she was obsessed with art, especially sculptures. Her brilliant mind left him spinning in wonder. He found it so easy to talk with her, to tell her about his own life, the parts that he wasn’t ashamed of, and every moment with her felt like a precious grain of sand slipping into an hourglass. He didn’t want to think about when the week was up and what the goddess would do with him then.

Rebecca’s voice came from behind him. “Devon, I’m sorry if I did or said something that upset you.” He turned to face her. Her lips trembled, and her eyes brimmed with tears that she was doing her best to pretend weren’t there. The hardness of his heart fractured, creating a great spider web of cracks that spread across the walls he’d built up for so long. The beating heart he’d spent years ignoring was burning for her in a way he barely understood. But the feeling of lightness inside him, the burdens of his past sins, seemed to fade whenever Rebecca was near him.

“You didn’t. You could never upset me,” he said in a low, husky tone. She met his gaze as he closed the distance between them, and he saw a spark of brilliant lightning in her eyes, an energy that called out to him like the sweet song of a siren on distant rocks in a stormy sea. After two centuries without a woman in his arms, he was done waiting, done playing by a fickle goddess’s rules.

He raised a hand to cup Rebecca’s cheek and slanted his mouth over hers. He explored her lips, learning the shape and feel of them in a way he had only imagined during his long imprisonment. Before this moment, his kisses had been frivolous, a playful game that had teased with promises. The time for teasing was over. He wanted her, and he was done playing the gentleman.

With each press of his lips, he stoked the fire inside her into something hotter. Devon pulled her into his arms, and she responded. Her mouth on his sent spirals of hunger through him. He needed more. With a soft growl, he lifted her into the cradle of his arms and carried her through the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom. She broke the kiss, panting softly against his neck.

“Devon, what are we—?”

He hushed her with a kiss as he set her on the edge of her bed, then leaned over and captured her mouth again, cupping her face and reveling in the warm velvety touch of her lips. A whimper of need escaped her as he reached for the buttons of her tweed vest. Her hands grasped his wrists, stopping him.

“Wait,” she gasped, and he stepped back. His body tensed as he tried to calm himself. If she wanted to stop, he would, but by God he prayed she didn’t want to. “I can do it much faster,” she said, her fingers nimbly slipping buttons through their slits until she’d cast the vest aside. Then she was pulling her white blouse out of her skirt and unbuttoning it as well.

Devon removed his black T-shirt but didn’t touch his jeans—that would only come after he’d pleasured her to her satisfaction. He wanted to see the tightly wound Rebecca flat on her back, spent and exhausted with glorious ecstasy before he took her. He’d had a lot of time to ponder why Aphrodite had been so angry with him, and perhaps ironically the endless thoughts of what he should have done long ago now only fueled his libido.

“God you’re beautiful,” she whispered as she reached up to touch his bare chest.

He chuckled. “You are the beautiful one.” He slipped his fingers through the lacy straps of her black… What manner of stays were these? He’d never seen a contraption like it before. It was too small to properly cover a woman; rather, it lifted her breasts up and presented them for his hands and mouth, yet did nothing to hide her glorious breasts. Whoever had invented this bit of cloth had his eternal gratitude. He knelt in front of her and studied her skirt, wondering how best to get it off.

“It has a zipper. You just pull on the little metal thing and it undoes itself in the back,” she said, her voice breathless. She rolled onto her side, trying to show him the zipper.

“Ahh! I see! The same as on my jeans,” he laughed softly in delight. Before she could react, he’d gotten to his feet, flipped her onto her stomach, and unzipped the skirt, tugging it down. She gave a little squeal as he then flipped her onto her back again.

“Devon!” She placed her palms flat on his chest, and he towered over her at the edge of the bed.

“Do you wish for me to stop?”

“No…just give me a minute, okay? It’s been a while since I’ve done this.” Even though it was fairly dark in the room, with evening shadows stretching through the windows, he could see the blush on her face spreading down to her collarbone. His chest tightened and he smiled, stroking her lips with his fingers.

“It will be all right, love. I’ll go as slow as you desire,” he vowed, even if it would kill him. He didn’t want her nervous or afraid—he wanted her wild and excited. If it took hours to reassure her, then so be it. He would take all the time required for her to trust him. He’d been a masterful lover once. But by that fateful with night Aphrodite he’d grown careless and lazy when it came to women and she had rightfully cursed him. Two hundred years in stone had changed some things inside him, but the old lover was still there, a man who knew how to please his woman. The difference now was his priorities—pleasing Rebecca instead of himself.

He bent over her and kissed his way down from her lips to her breasts, tugging the lacy cups down to free her tempting breasts. Her nipples pebbled against the cold air, but he covered one with his hand and the other with his mouth. Rebecca moaned and arched back. He chuckled as her hands dug into his hair, holding him to her breasts.

“God, Devon…”

“I’m just getting started.” He tugged the lacy scrap of cloth from her hips, baring her completely. Then he knelt again in front of the bed and wedged his shoulders between her thighs.

She gasped, trying to sit up. “Wait—what?” Clearly she was not expecting what he had planned.

“Lie back and enjoy, love,” he commanded.

“O-okay.” She lay back down, and a thrill rippled through him at this little victory. Devon placed a kiss on her inner right thigh, then her left, before he used his fingers to stroke her folds. She was wet and hot, and it was going to drive him mad to wait to sate his needs, but he wanted her to experience what he could do with this mouth.

He kissed the top of her mound, letting her feel his tongue flick against the small bud of arousal, and she let out a keening whimper. From that moment on, he showed her how much he wanted her to enjoy what he could give her.

She climaxed twice, her sweet taste upon his tongue, her trembling legs against his shoulders, and her gasping words of ecstasy in his ears as she came down from those glorious heights of pleasure. The evening light illuminated her like pale alabaster with only a hint of rose, and he had never seen anything more glorious in his life.

And she is mine. In this moment, I own every part of her.

He rose, his hands fumbling for the buttons of his jeans, his breath coming fast as he realized he was going to bed a woman, something he hadn’t done in two hundred long years.

“Devon.” Rebecca’s voice caressed his name, and he froze as another voice, one that filled him with dread shook him deep inside like thunder.

“Be careful Devon…Your time of sacrifice has not yet passed.” The echo of Aphrodite’s laughter clung to the air like a hint of perfume, faded and invisible but still there.

He dropped his hands from his jeans and stepped away from the bed, away from Rebecca. How could he have forgotten his vow to Aphrodite? He had seen to her pleasure, yes, but the deity’s terms now came back to his mind, haunting him. The devil is in the details, they say, and with a scorned goddess this was doubly so. He could not sate himself, could not enjoy Rebecca as he would have any other woman. Not if he wished to remain in the world of the living.

His shoulders went rigid as he fought to regain control. His body surged with unsatisfied hungers, and he struggled to bury them.

Rebecca sat up, her hair falling down around her shoulders, covering her breasts before she raised her hands to shield her body. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Words failed him when they never had before. “I cannot do this.”

He grabbed his abandoned shirt from the floor and stumbled from the room. If he stayed close to her, naked and beautiful as the morning sun on snow in winter, the desire would bloody well damn him for all eternity.

* * *

Rebecca didn’t chase after him. That was something the old Rebecca would have done. She would have gone after him and demanded answers, only to be disappointed and get her heart broken. She was done being that sort of woman.

Devon had opened up a new side of her. She’d gotten a taste of what she’d wanted from life, from a relationship, and she wasn’t going to allow anyone to mistreat her again. Whatever had happened between them tonight had scared him off, that much was clear, but she wasn’t going to blame herself. Still, his rejection didn’t hurt any less no matter what she told herself. She got out of bed, took her robe from her closet, and headed for the shower.

The hot water beating against her skin was a blessed relief. She leaned against the back of the shower wall and closed her eyes.

I have a two-hundred-year-old, gorgeous, sexy-as-hell man in my house thanks to an ancient Greek goddess. I’m living in a world where I can’t have the one thing I want—his heart.

Rebecca blinked away the tears in her eyes. Wait, she wanted his heart? They’d only known each other a short time, and she stoutly did not believe in love at first sight. Yet, she couldn’t deny that she felt something for him, something that ran deep, like still waters in a vast lake. But she was afraid to face those feelings and the uncertainty of the future.

What if he ended up being like every guy she’d dated before? Arrogant, selfish, and incapable of loving a woman while still respecting her as an equal partner. Hell, it was the reason he’d been imprisoned in stone in the first place! She wasn’t a maid or a chef on call. She had a full-time career that had stresses, worries, and complications, just like every other person. She hadn’t met a man yet who’d truly understood that.

Which is probably why I’ll die alone.

The sobering thought threatened to start a fresh wave of tears. Rebecca buried her face back beneath the spray, wanting to hide in the hot, steamy glass box forever. But she couldn’t do that. She had to get out, even if it was the last thing in the world she wanted to do.

With a weary sigh, she turned off the water and reached for her towel. She yelped when she realized Devon was standing there, still bare-chested and wearing nothing but his jeans, watching her with hooded eyes.

“I upset you.” His voice was ragged as emotion tore through his voice. “I’m sorry. I never wanted that. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Rebecca’s throat constricted. “I wasn’t…” The lie burned bitterly upon her lips.

“I wish I could undo the hurt I caused, but I cannot. The fault is mine.” His throat worked as he struggled to continue. “Aphrodite cursed me.”

“I know,” she replied, clutching the towel over her body.

“But you do not know the conditions she placed upon me.” His blue eyes burned with fury, but Rebecca wasn’t afraid.

“Conditions?”

He stepped closer but still kept his distance. “I have seven days to prove that I can put a woman’s desires above my own. If I were to seek out my own satisfaction, even after you reaching yours, I have no doubt that I would be turned back into stone.” He looked over her body, and she could feel it, almost as though he’d caressed her. “We came too close in your bedchamber. I almost lost control and took you the way I wanted, the way I craved…”

It all made sense now, and Rebecca exhaled, her lungs burning. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath while he spoke.

“You mean you can’t…finish?”

“Yes.” He came to her then, towering over her as he cupped her face in his hands. Their mouths were only inches apart, and she could see into his eyes. For a moment she thought she glimpsed his very soul. The shifting glints of light fused with desire melded with something deeper, something more pure, and it left her breathless.

“You were such a temptation that I would have damned myself for all eternity to have but one moment with you.” And then he kissed her.

It was a kiss made of dreams and starlight that spun her world in a dizzying array of colors and sensations. His warm body, the feel of his arms as he slid them around her. The taste of her own tears mixed with a hint of his sweetness upon their lips. The devastating perfection of that single, fleeting, yet somehow everlasting kiss was imprinted upon her soul.

There would be no other man who would hold her heart captive as he did in that moment.

We’re both cursed.

“What are we going to do?” she asked as they broke apart.

He rubbed his hands up and down her back. “Try to survive six more days.” Both of them were afraid to ask the question: What would happen when those six days had come and gone?