heights of Olympus and back. He knew she would be willing to let him bury his sorrow in her, to pass a few moments in indulgent bliss.
For a moment, the invitation danced on his tongue. When it came down to it, however, what he really needed at the moment was sleep and serenity. Knowing she wouldn’t take his denial as rejection, he leaned his head against her chest and listened to her heartbeat.
“Not tonight, Suzette, but thanks.”
She took his chin in her hands and turned his face up to hers, kissing him gently on the lips. “Anytime, Dee. I know what it’s like. Anytime.”
A clearing throat brought both of their attentions to the office door, which must have been open the whole time, and to the ashen-faced woman trembling in the frame.
Riona stood, blank-faced and curious. “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry if…” Her head dashed wildly to the side; her body followed. “I can come back later. I’m sorry.”
Rising to her feet, Suzette trailed a finger down Dee’s chin. Even though he knew tonight wasn’t to be, his lips couldn’t help parting when her fingertips made contact. “Seriously, Dee. Anytime.”
And without an ounce of shame or apology, she left the room.
Riona oozed through the door, sullen and sulky. Clearly she’d not been a victim of the sandman either. Where the hell did that bastard fairy spend his time these days?
To hell with coffee. Time to get tipsy.
From another drawer of his desk, Dee took out two glasses and a bottle of ouzo. “Have a seat, Riona. I can see you feel like I look.”
“On the contrary, Dee, the last thing I feel is half-Greek god and strong as steel.” Her fingers beckoned with a twitch. “More.”
“You sure? This isn’t exactly a wine cooler.”
“The blood of generations of Irishmen runs through my veins. Don’t insult me, Dionysus Zitka. Booze is like breath, as my grandda would say.”
When a woman asked nicely, Dee felt compelled to oblige. But she’d be feeling that double shot in the morning, that’s for sure. Hopefully, despite a nasty hangover, intoxication would grace both of them with a bit of shut-eye too.
“I didn’t mean to be so harsh,” he offered by way of a spontaneous apology, remembering how she’d been badger-killing mad at him the night before. “It’s just, I don’t want to see something bad happen to either one of you. Marc’s been my best friend for three years, and I’m pretty sweet on you too.” He took a swig of the alcoholic ambrosia and hissed. “In a totally professionally, or big brotherly type of way, that is.”
“Pfft! Don’t mention it.” Riona tipped a sip and growled as the burning liquid slipped over her palate. “Damn, that is some strong stuff. It’s cool, Dee. We sort of deserved it. Me especially.”
“How so?”
He would have sworn her feet were shuffling just out of his line of vision. “Marc’s not to blame. I was pushing him. I felt the charm, yeah, but he got himself together enough to back away. Or at least he was trying to, before I decided he was going to be a human jungle gym.”
Dee waved his hand through the air dismissively. “Lesson learned, right? I think you guys will be fine, as long as you listen to me and don’t let yourselves be alone again. But if that’s really how it went down, I think you owe Our Good Father an apology.”
Leaning forward, she placed the empty glass on the corner of his desk. “That’s why I’m here, actually. That, and Lucy convinced me to stop by. I was sort of hoping you wouldn’t mind going with me to see him.”
Dee arched an eyebrow. “Lucy? Shagging-on-the-shag-rug girl?”
The memory of looking up from where she lay with Lucy on her living room floor, and seeing Dee and Marc’s gaping expressions returned to her. “Oh, my God. Is that what you guys call her?”
He nodded. “Yeah. You discuss the near ballroom bump you and Marc had with your girlfriend?”
The witch flushed. “She’s not my girlfriend. Not that it’s any of your business, but we haven’t ‘shagged.’ And no, not in detail. No mention of demons or goddess half-sisters, that’s for sure. Lucy said I should be the bigger man and try to make peace.”
“Lucy sounds like she knows her stuff.”
“Well, she’s an HR person. A recruiter of some kind, I think. Yeah, she’s been pretty cool about my moodiness through all this.”
“But you’re not an item?” There may have just been an inappropriate tone