Once a Myth
Hello,
If your recruitment agency becomes aware of a short, blonde, preferably foreign employee who doesn’t speak much English, and confirm that she is amiable, submissive to authority, and a diligent worker, please advise at your earliest convenience.
The other girl you sent is straight from Hades, and I’m probably going to have to kill her because she’s the first to make me—
Delete.
Delete.
Delete.
Sighing hard, I left the email short and to the point. The exact opposite of Jinx would be a frumpy blonde who kept her eyes cast on the floor, her temper non-existent, her obedience in check, and her attractiveness not hardwired to affect me.
Whatever fate Eleanor had found upon my shores was my own affair, not the men who’d sourced her. I didn’t like the thought of killing her just because I had a visceral reaction. I wasn’t cruel without cause—even though humans had no such qualms with slaughterhouses. The methods of death and dismemberment used behind closed doors made me seem like a prince of philanthropy. Therefore, I had to decide if I was going to be a monster or magnanimous.
Eleanor was in sound health. Her value topped any of my current stock. She had plenty of years of servitude in her young body, and it would be a waste to destroy her, all because I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants.
So…starting today, I would behave myself.
Starting today, Eleanor fucking Grace would never ask me ‘why her’ again. Instead, she’d be asking why she suddenly meant nothing.
Nothing more than a girl purchased by ill-gotten gains.
A goddess who deserved a safe home, a merciful master, and firm guidelines to keep her world from colliding with mine.
Chapter Twenty-Three
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
I stretched in annoyance where I lay beneath the sun sail on the deck outside my villa. I’d spent a leisurely morning hiding from giggly goddesses and tormenting assholes, doing my best to once again plot a way free.
I’d commandeered the stationery provided in the bedside drawer and sketched a map of the island from memory. So far, I’d found the central hub where the restaurant and main facilities lived—also the place to avoid, thanks to its welcoming nature for guests to mingle and Sully to reign like a tyrant.
I’d set out at dawn this morning and jogged down the remaining sandy paths, finding forks leading to more accommodation, dead-ends into the jungle, lanes to the beach, and a few tracks leading deeper into the island.
I had no interest in going into the heart of this prison. My freedom wouldn’t be found there…it would be found out here.
I looked up at the bright horizon.
Home called to me past the watery cage and miles of twinkling sea.
The knock came again, wrenching a reluctant groan and swinging my legs off the lounger where I’d sprawled. The black bikini I wore winked beneath the open-style kimono. The lacy ivory material dappled my skin with sun patterns, browning a stencil onto my flesh the longer I stayed outside.
The knock rapped again, this time with impatience.
The urge to ignore whoever it was kept my body heavy and locked on the lounger, but the knowledge that ignoring the summons would just bring possible pain ushered me up.
This wasn’t the real world where I had a choice. I couldn’t keep hiding behind a locked door because the lock belonged to someone who had a key.
A man who had all the keys.
To everything.
My happiness.
My health.
My hope.
Dammit.
The floppy cream hat I wore blocked one eye as I stood and padded my way from the deck and across the pristine floor of my villa, leaving breadcrumbs of golden sand behind.
My heart skittered from its normal rhythm, worrying that my visitor wouldn’t be the friendly girl who brought my breakfast this morning. I’d yet to ring for lunch. I’d cocooned myself in an oasis of loneliness and had no desire for an interruption.
Of course, I knew who it was before I opened the door.
Bracing myself for the inevitable buffeting of awareness, hate, and heat, I wrenched open the thick barricade and came face to face with my nemesis. “You.”
He jolted, his gaze instantly devouring my body.
My nipples pebbled despite myself. My stomach melted against my control.
I should’ve changed.
Despite the tropical temperatures, I should wear jackets and sacks to hide myself as much as possible. I didn’t want him looking at me. I didn’t want him anywhere near me.
Ignoring the need to cross my arms and hide my figure, I snapped, “Leave me the hell alone.”
His eyes found mine again. A lazy smirk twitched his lips rather than the fiery snarls from last night. For a moment, we locked in another battle of piercing proximity. The hair on my nape stood up. Whenever we were together, the island seemed hotter and cooler all at once. My body became overly sensitive and totally troublesome with its responses.
I blamed the first morning and the memory of elixir.
I blamed him for all of it.
With a noble incline of his head, he bowed graciously. “Good afternoon…Jinx.”
His suit of choice today was light grey with the finest chalk pinstripes. His tie was silver. His shirt white. His shoes as polished and as perfect as any CEO who worked in a city rather than one who ruled over an atoll.
I hated that he once again managed to steal what little air I had left. I loathed that despite my rancour—that only increased the longer we interacted—I found him indescribably attractive.
Once again, his perfectionism made me detest him all the more. “It was good until you appeared on my doorstep.”
His eyes flashed, but he swallowed back his temper. “You and I…we need to get something straight.” He cricked his neck as if I’d interrupted his script on how this meeting would go. Whatever cordial response he might’ve delivered died beneath a whip of anger. “I dislike you as much as you dislike me.” I froze as he planted his hand above my head on the door frame. “Actually, dislike is too gentle a word. I’d say what I feel for you is more like—”
“Disgust.”
He clucked his tongue in reprimand. His gaze snagged mine, blazing blue. “If I disgusted you, I wouldn’t be able to make you wet.”
I sucked in a breath. “We discussed that. Don’t mistake biology for—”
“I made you wet because there’s something going on between us. Just like you make me hard because, for some reason, I have a morbid fascination with fucking you.”
I struggled to stay standing and not punch him or run into the sea. “There’s nothing going on between us.”
He signed condescendingly. “Such a little liar.” His hand slipped from the doorframe and traced gently down my arm.
Instantly, goosebumps sprang, shivers attacked, dampness gathered.
No.
Just no.
I was mortified.
I was horrified.
I hated myself…not just him.
Removing his touch, he raked his hand through his hair and leaned back, giving me space to breathe and room to drown in despair.
“Something is going on between us, and neither of us are interested in the mess it’s causing.” He swallowed hard. “Contrary to what it seems, I despise arguments. I much prefer smooth waters, Eleanor Grace, and I’m willing to make a compromise to ensure our co-inhabitation doesn’t end with one of us killing the other.”