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And he knows how to be still and enjoy an evening in. It might not be his first choice, but he can do it.
His extroverted ways pull me out of the shell I’ve taken refuge in since I lost my parents, which isn’t a bad thing. And when I absolutely refused to stop going over the pages one night, he stayed with me rather than going out with his friends. He puts my wants above his, something I’ve never experienced before.
Despite that one time he told me he desired me, he hasn’t mentioned it again. He also hasn’t actually asked me on a date. He’s invited me to stay for dinner, to go dancing, to come over to work, but apart from that light brush of his lips against my cheek, he hasn’t made any physical overtures. Maybe after spending so much time with me, he’s changed his mind about wanting me.
Maybe he’s been constantly reminded that I’m a human. Female gorgons are strong with the stamina of several human men, and I know I can’t compare in that department. So there’s a possibility he’s changed his mind.
Is it even possible for a gorgon and a human to do the deed? My body is emphatic that it is. But my libido doesn’t know anything other than that she wants some attention that doesn’t require batteries.
And what about his ability to turn me to stone with his gaze? Would he turn me to stone if I accidentally looked into his eyes while we were doing the deed? I laugh out loud as I imagine it, being all sweaty and panting, writhing underneath him one minute and being turned into stone the next. Would his cock turn to stone if he was inside me when it happened?
That makes me laugh louder, and I drop my head into my hands. So many maybes and what-ifs, and all over something that may never happen. I have a job to do. Dating the gorgon isn’t in the cards for me, even if I’m more attracted to him than anyone I’ve ever met. I’ll just have to get over it.
He’s probably grateful we didn’t hook up that first night at his house. He’s changed his mind, and he’s just happy with my ability to translate ancient languages.
Ugh. I drop my head into my hands. Maybe I should just cancel going to his house tonight.
chapter
seven
Gideon
I flit around my house—well, as much as a six-foot-five-inch gorgon can flit—picking up stray shirts I tossed on the back of the couch and carrying a glass and a plate to the kitchen. I have staff to do it, but I’m in a hurry and don’t expect them to pick up after me if I can do it. Verity will be at the house soon, and I want the place tidy when she arrives.
Verity and I have been working on the translations for almost a month, and my desire for the curvy human woman hasn’t waned the more I’ve gotten to know her.Instead, I find myself even more fascinated with her. Each new meeting with her brings me something I’ve been unfamiliar with for a while. Joy.
I smile, knowing she’s on her way. My smile grows when she arrives. I smile because I now have so many memories of her and have learned so much about her.I even smile when she leaves me, looking forward to our next time together, despite wanting to take her in my arms and never let her go.
Verity is a fascinating woman. I’m huge compared to her, which makes me protective of her. But I also love the other differences. She’s a studious woman and often quiet as she contemplates some theory or another. She’s also thoughtful and often brings me snacks and drinks when she comes to my home.
She loves to read more than anything, while I like to be active and experience what life has to offer. But I’ve started to read more, to be quiet and less noisy around her, and I’ve enjoyed it more than I thought. I’m a physical person, but lately, I enjoy the quiet moments indoors with Verity reading over the pages of the manuscript.
But that could be because Verity is far more sensual than she realizes. She often touches things, running a finger over my possessions, smiling with satisfaction as if she’s connecting with my belongings.And her cheeks flush when she’s excited about something. I’ve seen that flush on women before in my bedroom. And when she smiles at me, it makes me want to ravish her.Sometimes, it’s fucking hard to control myself.
I hear a knock at the door and go to answer it myself rather than let the butler do it. I know it’s Verity. I can sense her out there.I smile my most charming smile as I swing it open wide. “Verity! So glad you made it.”
Verity blinks up at me, her eyes on a spot somewhere between mine, and her mouth twitches with a smile. “Gideon. How are you today?”
“Just fine. Come on in.” I close the door as she glides into the house, her feet encased in shoes so soft and quiet they could be ballet slippers.
We soon settle into the usual places, with Verity at a table in my library and me on the other side. She seems unusually animated today as she digs out her phone, a pair of glasses she uses when reading, and a pad of paper with a pen stuck in it from her purse.
“I noticed something about one of the pages, Gideon. It’s been nagging at me for a few weeks, but I had a lightbulb moment this morning,” she says, reaching for the book. “I think I’ve found something.”
My eyebrows lift, and I lean forward, my interest piqued. “What is it?”
Verity takes a deep breath, trying to contain her excitement. “The Elysian Chronicles. It’s the key. I’ve been cross-referencing the languages—Sumerian, Greek, demotic, and the Voynichese script. They were all meant to be read together, each unlocking a part of the puzzle.”
I move around the table to look over her shoulder at her array of notes, translations, and sketches. “Show me.”
She points to a passage in the Elysian Chronicles, her finger tracing the intricate symbols. “This section here. I couldn’t make any sense of it until I noticed a pattern that matched one of the photos of text from the Lenayovitch Tome. It’s a complex cipher. Each language represents a layer. When you translate the Sumerian text and then use the Greek to decode it further, and so on, it finally makes sense.”
My heart swells with a strange warmth and something else—something deeper. “And what does it say?”
She swallows hard, no doubt feeling the weight of the discovery. “It’s a map. I mean, there’s still so much to decipher. It’ll take years, and I’ll need a team of researchers, archeologists, historians, people we can trust, but?—"
I squeeze her shoulder, stalling her. “I’ll make it happen. Whatever you need. This is your love child, Verity.” I pause, shaking my head. “Do you realize what this means?”
