The morning seemed to drag by as Grace went through the usual round of clients. No matter how hard she tried to focus on them and their problems, she just couldn't quite succeed.

Over and over, she kept seeing deep, tawny skin and searing blue eyes.

And that smile...

How she wished Julian had never smiled at her. His smile could definitely be her undoing.

"... so then I said, Dave, look, if you want to borrow my clothes, fine. But leave off my expensive designer dresses 'cause when you look better in them than I do, then I just want to give them to the Salvation Army. So, was I right, Doc?"

Grace looked up from her pad where she was doodling pictures of stick men holding spears.

"What, Rachel?" she asked the patient who sat in the armchair across from her.

Rachel was an elegantly dressed photographer. "Was I right to tell Dave to leave off my clothes? I mean, damn, it's pretty bad when your boyfriend looks better in your clothes than you do, right?"

Grace nodded. "Absolutely. They're your clothes and you shouldn't have to lock them up."

"See, I knew it! That's what I told him. But does he listen? No. He can call himself Davida all he wants to, and tell me he's a woman in a man's body, but when it comes down to it all, he still listens to me like my ex-husband did. I swear..."

Grace inadvertently checked her watch again. Her hour with Rachel was almost up.

"You know, Rachel," she said, cutting her patient off before Rachel could begin her routine spiel about men and their annoying habits. "Perhaps we should hold on to this until our Monday session with Dave?"

Rachel nodded. "Will do. But remind me on Monday that I need to talk to you about Chico."

"Chico?"

"The Chihuahua that lives next door. I swear that dog is giving me the eye."

Grace frowned. Surely Rachel wasn't implying what she thought she was. "The eye?"

"You know. The eye. He may look like a pooch, but that dog has sex on his mind. Every time I walk by, he looks up my skirt. And you don't want to know what he did to my running shoes. The dog is a pervert."

"Okay," Grace said, cutting her off again. She was beginning to suspect there was nothing she could do for Rachel and her obsession that all males in the world were dying to possess her. "We will definitely cover the Chihuahua's infatuation with you."

"Thanks, Doc. You're the best." Rachel grabbed her bag off the floor and headed out the door.

Grace rubbed her brow as Rachel's words rang in her head. A Chihuahua? Jeez!

Poor Rachel. Surely there was some way to help that poor woman.

Then again, it would be infinitely better to have a Chihuahua looking up her skirt with lust than a Greek love-slave.

"Oh, Lanie," Grace breathed, "how do I let you get me into these things?"

Before she could contemplate that further, her intercom buzzed.

"Yes, Lisa?"

"Your eleven o'clock canceled, and while you were seeing Ms. Thibideaux, your friend Selena Laurens called six dozen times, and I am neither exaggerating nor kidding. She left a stack of urgent messages for you to call her on her cell phone ASAP."

"Thanks, Lisa."

Picking up the phone, Grace called Selena.

"Oh, thank God." Selena spoke before Grace could say a word. "You have got to get your butt down here and take your boyfriend home. Now!"

"He's not my boyfriend, he's your-"

"Oh, you want to know what he is?" Selena asked with a note of hysteria in her voice. "He's a friggin' estrogen magnet, that's what he is. I have women mobbing my stand even as we speak. Sunshine loves it, she's sold more pottery this morning than she ever has before. I tried to get him home earlier, but I can't even make a dent in this crowd. I swear, you'd think we had a celebrity out here. I've never seen anything like it in my life. Now get your butt down here and help me!"

The phone went dead.

Grace cursed her luck. Buzzing Lisa, she told her to cancel her appointments for the rest of the day.

As soon as she reached the square, Grace saw what Selena had meant. There had to be at least twenty women surrounding Julian, and dozens more gaping at him as they passed by.

The ones closest to him were elbowing and pushing each other, trying to gain his attention.

But the most unbelievable of all were the three women who had their arms draped over him while another one took a picture.

"Oh, thank you," a woman in her mid-thirties purred to Julian as she snatched the camera out of the hands of the woman who had taken their picture.

She cradled the camera to her breast in a way meant to draw Julian's attention there, but he didn't seem the least bit interested.

"This is just so wonderful," she continued to gush. "I can't wait to get home and show this to my critique group. They'll never believe I found a real-life romance-novel cover model in the French Quarter."

Something about the rigid way he stood made Grace suspect that Julian didn't care for the attention. But to his credit, he wasn't openly rude.

Still, his smile didn't reach his eyes and it was nothing like the one he'd given her last night.

"My pleasure," he said to the women.

The giggles that erupted were deafening. Grace shook her head in disbelief. Women, get some dignity!

Then again, given Julian's face, body, and smile, she felt a little giddy every time he looked at her, too.

So who could really blame them for acting like pre-pubescent girls at a shopping-mall rock concert?

All of a sudden Julian looked past his sea of raging hormonal admirers to meet her gaze. Grace arched an amused brow at him.

Instantly, his smile vanished. His eyes focused on her like a hungry predator that had just found its next meal. "If you'll excuse me," he said, then waded through the women and headed directly toward her.

Grace gulped, noting the instant hostility of the women who frowned en masse in her direction.

But worse was the sudden, raw surge of desire that tore through her, making her heart pound out of control. And with every step he took, it increased tenfold.

"Greetings, agapeemenee," Julian said, lifting her hand up to place a kiss on the backs of her knuckles.

A heated wave of electricity danced up her spine. And before she could move, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a hot, soul-wrenching kiss.

Instinctively, she closed her eyes and savored the warmth of his mouth, his breath. The feel of his arms holding her close to a rock-hard chest. Her head reeled from it.

Oh, but the man knew how to give a kiss! Julian had a way with his lips that defied explanation.

And his body... Never had she felt anything like those lean, hard muscles flexing around her.

It was only the barely audible "hussy" one of the women sneered that broke the spell.

"Julian, please," she whispered. "There are people watching us."

"Do you think I care?"

"I do!"

He pulled his head away from hers with a low growl and set her back on her feet. It was only then she realized she'd completely surrendered her weight to him, and he had supported it without effort.

Her cheeks scalding, Grace caught the envious stares of the women as they reluctantly dispersed.

His face showing the depth of his displeasure and reluctance, Julian let go of her and stepped back.

"Finally," Selena said with a sigh. "I can almost hear again." She shook her head. "If I'd known that would work, I'd have kissed him."

Grace gave her a sideways smirk. "Well, it's your own fault."

"How do you figure?" Selena asked.

Grace indicated Julian's clothes with a wave of her hand. "Look at how he's dressed. You don't bring a Greek god out into public wearing shorts and a tank top two sizes too small. Jeez, Selena, what were you thinking?"

"That it's one hundred and two degrees out, with one hundred and ten percent humidity. I didn't want him to die of heat stroke."

"Ladies, please," Julian said, placing himself between them. "It's far too hot to stand out in the street fighting over something as trivial as my clothing." He swept a hungry look over Grace, then smiled a smile that could make any woman melt. "And I'm not a Greek god. I'm just a minor half-deity."

Grace missed what he was saying for the fact that the sound of his voice captivated her. How did he do that? How did he make his voice so erotically charged?

Was it from his deep, rich accent?

No, there was more to it than that, but for her life she couldn't figure out what.

In truth, all she wanted to do was find a bed somewhere and let him have his way with her. To feel his luscious skin beneath her hands.

She looked at Selena and caught the way Selena stared hungrily at Julian's bare legs and rump.

"You feel it, too, don't you?" Grace asked.

Blinking, Selena looked up. "Feel what?"

"Him. It's like he's the Pied Piper and we're all mice enchanted by his music." Grace turned about and noted the way women stared at him, some even craning their necks to get a better view of Julian.

"What is it about him that just pulls us against our wills?" Grace asked.

Julian arched one arrogant brow at her. "Against your will?"

"Well, honestly, yes. I don't like feeling like this."

"And how do you feel?" he asked.

"Sexual," Grace said before she could stop herself.

"Like a goddess?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

"Yes," she said as he took a single step toward her.

He didn't touch her, but then he didn't have to. His very presence overwhelmed her. Intoxicated her as he dipped that magnetic gaze to her lips, then to her neck. She swore she could already feel the sensation of his lips buried in the hollow of her throat.

And the man hadn't even moved.

"I can tell you what it is," he all but purred.

"It's the spell, isn't it?"

He shook his head as he reached one hand out to gently drag his forefinger down her cheek. Grace shuttered her eyes as a wave of fierce desire scorched her. It was all she could do not to turn her head and capture that finger between her teeth.

Julian leaned closer and nuzzled her cheek with his. "It's the fact that I can appreciate you on a level the men of your age cannot."

"It's the fact he has the tightest gluteus rumpus I've ever seen," Sunshine said, interrupting them. "Not to mention a voice and accent to die for. I really wish someone would tell me where I could get one of those."

Grace burst out laughing at Sunshine's unexpected comments.

Looking less than pleased, Julian turned to face Sunshine.

"Look at him." Sunshine gestured toward Julian with the pencil in her charcoal-covered hand. She also had a smear of charcoal across her right cheek. "When was the last time you met a man so well toned that you could actually see the blood pumping through his veins? Your boyfriend is... well, way buff. Monster buff." Then with a serious face, she added, "Lord, king buff."

Sunshine turned her sketchbook around to where Grace could see her rendering of Julian. "See the way the light brings out the golden color of his skin? It's almost as if he were really kissed by the sun."

Grace frowned. There was some truth to that.

Julian leaned down at her, his blue eyes searing her with their heat. "Come home with me, Grace," he whispered in her ear. "Now. Let me take you into my arms, strip your clothes from your body, and show you how the gods meant for a woman to know a man. I swear to you, you'll remember it for the rest of eternity."

She closed her eyes as the scent of sandalwood filled her head. His breath tickled her neck while his cheek was so close to hers, she swore she could feel his whiskers touching her.

Every part of her wanted to surrender to him. Yes, please, yes.

Her gaze dropped down to his shoulder. To the hard sculpting of his muscles. To the hollow of his throat. Oh, how she longed to run her tongue over the golden bounty of his skin. To see if the rest of his body tasted as good as his mouth.

He would be splendid in bed. There was no doubt.

But she meant nothing to him. Nothing.

"I can't," she breathed, taking a step back.

Disappointment filled his eyes. Then, his look turned hard, determined. "You will," he assured her.

Deep inside, she knew he probably spoke the truth. How long could a woman turn down a man like him?

Shaking off the thought, Grace glanced across the street to the Jackson Brewery. "We need to go buy you some clothes that fit."

"Can I help it if he's a head taller than Bill and twice as broad?" Selena asked. "It was your bright idea for me to bring him along."

Grace screwed up her face at Selena. "Fine. We'll be in the Brewery if you need us."

"Okay, but be careful."

"Careful?" Grace asked.

Selena indicated Julian with her thumb. "If women start to stampede, take my advice and get out of their way. I still don't have any feeling in my right foot from the last group."

Laughing, Grace headed for the road, knowing Julian would follow her. In fact, she could feel him right behind her. His presence undeniable, he had an awful way of invading every thought and sense she possessed.

Neither one of them said a word as they crossed the busy street and headed into the first shop they reached.

Grace glanced around the department store, looking for Menswear. Spotting it, she made her way over to it.

"So, what's your style preference?" she asked Julian as she paused by a display of folded jeans.

"For what I have in mind, nudity works best."

Grace rolled her eyes. "You're trying to shock me, aren't you?"'

"Perhaps. I have to admit I rather like the look of a blush on your face."

He stepped toward her.

Grace retreated, placing the display of jeans between them. "I think you'll need at least three pairs of jeans while you're here."

He sighed as he gazed at the pants. "Why bother, when I shall be gone in a few weeks?"

She glared at him. "Jeez, Julian," she snapped in aggravation. "You act as if no one ever dressed you during your past incarnations."

"They didn't."

She froze at his hollow, empty tone. And the significance of his words.

Grace looked skeptically at him. "Are you telling me that in the last two thousand years, no one has ever bothered to put clothes on you?"

"Just twice," he said in that same flat tone. "Once during a blizzard in the English Regency period, one of my summoners covered me in a frilly pink dressing gown before she shoved me onto her balcony to keep her husband from finding me in her bed. And the second time was far too embarrassing to mention."

"You're not funny. And I know no woman would keep a man for a solid month and not put some clothes on him."

"Look at me, Grace," he said, spreading out his arms to show her his hard, delectable body. "I'm a sex slave. No one before you ever thought I needed clothes to perform my duties."

His heated gaze held hers enthralled, but what made her ache was the pain in those deep blue eyes that he tried so hard to conceal. A pain that touched her profoundly.

"I assure you," he said quietly, "once they had me inside them, they did everything they could to keep me there, including one summoner in the Middle Ages who bolted her bedroom door, and told everyone on the outside that she had the plague."

Grace averted her gaze as his words singed her. The things he described were unbelievable, and yet by the look on his face, she could tell he wasn't exaggerating the tales.

She couldn't imagine the degradations he must have suffered over the centuries. Dear Lord, people treated animals better than what he was describing.

"They summoned you, yet none of them ever conversed with you or clothed you?"

"Every man's fantasy, is it not? To have a million women throwing themselves at him, wanting no commitments, no promises. Wanting nothing from him, other than his body, and the few weeks of pleasure he can give them?" His flippant words didn't quite mask the acid undertone.

That might be other men's fantasies, but she could tell it wasn't his.

"Well," she said, returning to the jeans, "I'm not like that and you're going to need something to wear when I take you out in public."

Anger snapped so menacingly in his eyes that she took an involuntary step backward. "I wasn't cursed to be viewed by the public, Grace. I am here for you, and you alone."

How nice that sounded. Still, she wasn't about to fall for it. She couldn't use another human being the way Julian described. It was wrong, and she would never be able to live with herself if she did such a thing to him.

"Be that as it may," she said in determination. "I want to take you out in public. So you'll need clothes." She started digging through the sizes.

He fell silent.

Grace looked up at him and caught the dark, angry look on his face. "What?"

"What?" he shot back.

"Never mind. Let's see which of these fit best." Grabbing several sizes, she handed the pants over to him. One would think she'd handed him a load of dog crap the way he reacted to the jeans.

Disregarding his appalled look, she had to practically shove him into a fitting room and close the partial door sharply behind him.

Julian entered the small cubicle and froze, assaulted simultaneously on three hostile fronts.

The first was the smallness of the space and the cold, fierce terror that washed over him from it. For a full minute, he couldn't breathe as he fought the urge to run from the tight, cramped space. He could barely move without bumping into the walls, door, or mirror.

But even worse than his claustrophobia was the face in the mirror. He hadn't seen his own reflection in centuries. And the face staring back at him looked so much like his father that he wanted to splinter it. He saw the same smoothly sculpted planes, the same contemptuous eyes.

The only thing missing was the deep, jagged scar that had run down his father's left cheek.

And for the first time in countless centuries, Julian saw the jarring sight of the three thin commander's braids that hung to his shoulder.

His hand shaking, he reached up and touched them as he did something he hadn't done in an exceptionally long time; he remembered the day he had earned them.

It had been after the battle at Thebes when his commander had fallen and the Macedonian troops had started to panic and retreat. He had grabbed the commander's sword, regrouped them, and led them to victory against the Romans.

The day after the battle, the Macedonian queen herself had braided his hair, and placed her own personal beads on the ends.

Julian gripped the tiny glass beads in his fist.

Those braids had belonged to the once proud and mighty Macedonian commander who had led a conquering army so strong that he had forced the Romans to flee in cowering terror.

The sight haunted him.

He looked down at the ring on his right hand. A ring he had worn for so long that he had grown immune to its presence, and had long ago ceased to remember its significance.

But his braids...

He hadn't thought about them in a long, long time.

Touching them now, he remembered the man he'd been. He remembered the faces of his family. The people who had once rushed to serve his needs. Those who had respected and feared him.

A time when he had commanded his destiny, and the known world had been his for the taking.

And now he was...

His throat tight, Julian closed his eyes and removed the beads from the ends of his hair before he started unbraiding it.

As his fingers loosened the first braid, he looked down at the pants he had dropped on the floor.

Why was Grace doing this? Why did she have to treat him like a human being?

He'd grown so accustomed to being treated as an object that he found her kindness toward him unbearable. The other summoners' cold, impersonal distance had enabled him to tolerate his sentence, to not remember who and what he'd once been.

What he'd lost.

It enabled him to only focus on the here and now, and on the momentary, fleeting pleasures to be had.

But human beings didn't live that way. They had families, friends, futures, dreams.

Hopes.

Things that had been lost to him centuries ago. Things he would never know again.

"Damn you, Priapus," he breathed as he viciously uncoiled the last braid. "And damn me."

Grace did a double-take as Julian finally left the dressing room wearing a pair of jeans that looked as if they had been made solely for him.

The tight tank top Selena had loaned him stopped just below his hard, narrow waist and the jeans rode low on his lean hips, leaving just a tiny peek of his hard, flat stomach and the small coffee-colored hairs that ran from his navel downward to disappear under the denim.

Grace had a strong desire to walk up to him and slide her hand down that inviting pathway and investigate where it led. And all too well, she remembered the sight of him standing naked in front of her.

Drawing her breath in sharply between her teeth, she had to admit he looked good in jeans. Even better than he'd looked in shorts-if such a thing were possible.

Sunshine was right, he had the best butt denim had ever cupped and all she could think of doing was running her hand over that rump and squeezing it tight.

The female salesclerk and woman beside her stopped talking and gaped.

"Are these acceptable?" Julian asked Grace.

"Oh, yeah, baby," Grace said breathlessly before she could stop herself.

Julian gave her an amused grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Grace moved around him until she could see what size the pants were.

Oh, yeah, nice, nice butt!

Distracted by his shapely posterior, she inadvertently let her fingers brush against the skin of his back as she touched the tag. She felt Julian tense.

"You know," Julian said, looking at her over his shoulder. "That would feel a whole lot better if we were both naked. And in your bed."

She heard the sharp intakes of breath from the salesclerk and customer.

Heat exploding over her face, Grace straightened up and glared at him. "We really need to talk about what kind of comments are appropriate when we're in public."

"If you took me home, you wouldn't have to worry about it."

The man was relentless.

Shaking her head at him, Grace found two more pairs of jeans, a few shirts, a belt, a pair of sunglasses, socks, shoes, and several pairs of large, ugly boxers. No man could look good in boxers, she decided. And the last thing she wanted was for Julian to be any more appealing.

She made him change into a navy crew-neck shirt, his jeans, and running shoes before they left the department.

"Now you look almost human," she said teasingly as he came out of the dressing room.

He gave her a cold, dead look. "Only on the outside," he said in a voice so low she wasn't sure she heard it.

"What was that?" she asked.

"I'm only human on the outside," he said louder.

She caught the anguish in his gaze. Her heart lurched.

"Julian," she said, her tone chiding. "You are human."

He pressed his lips together, his gaze now shadowed and guarded. "Am I? Is it human to live for two thousand years? To only be allowed to walk the earth a few weeks at a time?"

He looked around them at the women who were trying to sneak a peek at him over and around racks. Women who came to a complete stop as they caught their first glimpse of him.

He swept his hand out, indicating the spectacle around them. "Do you see them doing that to anyone else?"

His face turned hard, dangerous, as his gaze delved into hers. "No, Grace, I've never been human."

Needing to comfort him, she reached up and placed her hand gently against his cheek. "You are human, Julian."

The doubt in his eyes wrung her heart.

Unsure of what she could say or do to make him feel better, she let the matter drop and started for the door. She was almost to it before she realized Julian wasn't with her.

Turning around, Grace spotted him easily enough. He'd gotten sidetracked in women's lingerie and stood next to a rack of extremely skimpy black negligees. Grace's face flamed. She swore she could hear the lecherous thoughts in his mind.

Worse, she had better go get him before one of the women offered to model it for him.

She quickly went up to him and cleared her throat. "You ready?"

He gave her a slow, thorough once-over that let her know he had a vivid image in his mind of her wearing that gauzy thing. "You would be breathtaking in this."

Grace looked at it skeptically. The thing was so flimsy it was pretty much-transparent. Unlike Julian, she didn't have a body that turned anyone's head, not unless they were extremely desperate. Or had been in prison for a couple of decades. "I don't know about breathtaking, but I'd definitely be cold."

"Not for long, you wouldn't."

She sucked her breath in at his words, not doubting the truth of it for a minute. "You are so bad."

"Not in bed, I'm not." He dipped his head toward hers. "I'm actually very-"

"There you are!"

Grace jumped back at Selena's voice.

Julian said something to Selena in a strange language Grace didn't understand.

"Now, now," Selena said with a chiding note in her voice. "Gracie doesn't understand ancient Greek. She slept through the entire semester."

Selena looked at Grace and clucked her tongue. "See, I told you one day it would come in handy."

"Oh, yeah," Grace said with a laugh. "Like I knew back then that one day you were going to conjure up a Greek love-sl..." Grace let her voice trail off as she realized what she'd almost said in front of Julian.

Embarrassed, she bit her lip.

"It's all right, Grace," Julian said quietly.

Still, she knew it bothered him. There was no way it couldn't.

"I know what I am. You can't offend me with the truth of it. I'm actually more offended by the word Greek than I am love-slave. I was trained in Sparta, and fought for the Macedonians. I made it my habit to avoid Greece as much as possible before I was cursed."

Grace cocked her head at what he'd said, or more to the point what he hadn't said. There was nothing about his childhood.

"Where were you born?" she asked.

A tic started in his jaw and his eyes darkened ominously. Wherever his birthplace had been, he didn't care for it. "Very well, I'm half Greek, but I don't claim that half of my heritage."

Okay, big nerve there. From now on, she would drop Greek from her vocabulary.

"Back to the black nightie," Selena said. "There's a red one over here that I'm thinking would look a whole lot better on her."

"Selena!" Grace snapped.

She ignored her, and led Julian to where the red negligees were kept. Selena picked up a sheer red baby-doll number that was split down the front and only held together by two ribbons at the shoulders and one in the middle. Crotchless red panties and a lace garter belt completed the ensemble.

"What do you think?" Selena asked as she held it up in front of Julian.

He gave Grace a speculative glance.

If they kept this up, she was going to die of embarrassment. "Would you two stop?" Grace asked. "I'm not wearing that."

"I'm buying it for you anyway," Selena said in a firm voice. "I'm relatively sure Julian can get you into it."

Julian gave her a droll stare. "I'd rather get her out of it."

Grace covered her face with her hands and groaned.

"She'll come around," Selena said conspiratorially.

"I will not," Grace said from behind her hands.

"Yes, you will," Julian said, as Selena went off to pay for the red negligee.

There was such arrogance and assuredness in his words. She could tell the man wasn't used to anyone defying him.

"Have you ever failed?" she asked.

The teasing in his eyes faded and she saw the veil come down over his face. He was hiding something with that look, she knew it. Something very painful, judging by the sudden tenseness of his body.

He didn't say another word until Selena returned and handed him the bag. "Now," she said. "I'm thinking some candlelight, nice mood music, and-"

"Selena," Grace said, cutting her off. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but instead of focusing on me for a minute, can we talk about Julian?"

Selena glanced at him. "Sure. What about him?"

"Do you know how to get him out of the book? Permanently?"

"Absolutely clueless." Selena turned her attention to Julian. "Do you know?"

"I keep telling her, it's impossible."

Selena nodded. "She is stubborn. Never listens to a word said unless it's the word she wants to hear."

"Stubborn or not," Grace inserted, focusing on Julian, "I can't imagine why you'd want to stay cursed in a book."

He looked away.

"Grace, give the man a break."

"That's what I'm trying to do."

"Fine," Selena said, finally giving in. "Okay, Julian, what wretched awful act did you commit to get sucked into the book?"

"Hubris."

"Ooo," Selena said ominously, "that's a baddie. Grace, he may be right. They used to do things like rip people to shreds over that. You should have paid attention in your Classics class. The Greek gods are really vicious when it comes to handing out punishments."

Grace narrowed her eyes on both of them. "I refuse to believe that there's no way to free him. Can't we destroy the book or summon one of your spirits or something to help?"

"Oh, so now you believe in my voodoo magick?"

"Not really, but you did manage to get him here. Can you manage to help?"

Selena chewed her thumbnail in thought. "Julian, what god was most partial to you?"

He took a long, deep breath as if completely bored by their questions. "In truth, none of them were overly fond of me. Being a soldier, I sacrificed mostly to Athena, but I had more direct contact with Eros."

Selena flashed him a wicked grin. "The god of lust and love, I can see why."

"It's not for the reasons you think," he said dryly.

Selena ignored him. "So, have you ever tried to appeal to Eros?"

"We're not speaking to each other."

Grace rolled her eyes at his flippant sarcasm.

"Why don't you try calling him?" Selena suggested.

Grace glared at her. "You know, Selena, you could try to be a little more serious. I know I've mocked your beliefs over the years, but this is Julian's life we're talking about."

"I am perfectly serious," she said emphatically. "The best way would be for Julian to summon him directly and see if he can help."

What the hell? Grace thought. Last night, she would never have believed anyone could conjure up Julian. Maybe Selena was right.

"Would you try it?" Grace asked him.

Julian gave a frustrated sigh, as if he were ready to shake both of them.

Looking greatly peeved, he leaned his head back and said quietly to the ceiling, "Cupid, you worthless bastard, I summon you to human form."

Grace threw her hands up. "Gee, I can't imagine why he wouldn't respond to that."

Selena laughed.

"Fine," Grace said. "I don't believe in this mumbo jumbo anyway. Let's go put this stuff in my car, get some lunch, and try to think up something a little more productive than 'Cupid, you worthless bastard.' Shall we?"

"Fine," Selena said.

Grace handed Selena the bag that contained the clothes Selena had brought over. "Here are Bill's things."

Selena looked into the bag with a frown. "Where's the white tank top?"

"I'll give it back later."

Selena laughed again.

Julian trailed along behind them, listening to their bantering, as they made their way outside the store.

Luckily, Grace had found a rare parking place right outside the Brewery.

Julian watched as the women put the bags in the car. If he dared admit it, he actually liked the fact that Grace was so interested in helping him.

No one ever had before.

He had walked the whole of his life in solitude with only his strength and his wits to save him. Even before the curse, he'd been weary. Tired of the loneliness, tired of having no one on earth, or beyond, who gave a damn about him.

It was a pity he hadn't met Grace before the curse. She would have definitely been a nice balm to soothe his restlessness. But then, the women of his time had been very different.

Grace saw him as an equal whereas the women in his day had seen him as a legend to be feared or placated.

What made Grace unique? What was it about her that allowed her to reach out to him when even his own family had turned their backs on him?

He didn't know for sure. She was just special. A pure heart in a world populated by selfish ones. He'd never thought to encounter anyone like her.

Uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts, he glanced around the thronging crowd of people who didn't seem to mind the oppressive heat of the strange city.

His ears picked up on a couple arguing a few feet away, the wife angry over something the man had left behind. They had a small boy no older than three or four between them as they approached the sidewalk in front of him.

Julian smiled at them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a family together, going about their routine business. It touched a part of him he barely remembered he had. His heart. And he wondered if they knew just what a gift they had in each other.

While the two parents continued to bicker, the child stopped, his attention focused on something across the street.

Julian held his breath as every instinct in his body told him what the little boy was about to do.

Grace closed the trunk to her car.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blue blur headed for the street. It took her a full second to realize it was Julian running across the lot. She frowned at his actions, until she saw the small boy who was stepping off the curb into traffic.

"Oh, my God," Grace gasped as she heard car brakes squealing.

"Steven!" a woman shouted.

With a move straight out of Hollywood, Julian jumped over the low parking lot wall, plucked the child up from the road, and, holding the boy against his chest, he ran up onto the fender of the braking car, then turned a side flip, up, over, and away from the car.

They landed safely in the other lane a spilt second before a second car jerked around the first and plowed straight into them.

Horrified, Grace watched as Julian slammed into the hood of an old Chevy. He slid up it, into the windshield, and was then flung forward onto the street where he rolled for several yards before finally coming to a stop.

He lay on his side, unmoving.

Total chaos broke out everywhere as people screamed and shouted, and crowded around the accident.

Terrified, Grace trembled all over as she pushed her way through the crowd, trying to reach Julian. "Please be okay, please be okay," she whispered, over and over, praying both of them had survived being hit.

As she finally broke through the people around him, she realized he hadn't let go of the child. The boy was still carefully cradled in his arms.

Unable to believe the sight, Grace paused, her heart hammering.

Were they alive?

"Never saw nothing like that in my life," a man said beside her.

His sentiment was echoed everywhere.

Slowly, fearfully, Grace approached Julian as he started to move.

"Are you all right?" she heard him ask the child.

The small toddler answered with a screaming wail.

Oblivious to the piercing sound, Julian rose carefully with the boy in his arms.

Relieved they were alive, Grace couldn't believe her eyes. How in the world could he move?

How had he managed to keep his hold on the boy through all that?

He staggered back a step, then quickly caught his balance, all the while maintaining his grip on the child.

Grace steadied him with a hand against his spine. "You shouldn't stand," she told Julian as she saw the blood that coated his left arm.

Julian didn't seem to hear her.

His eyes were dark and strange looking. "Sh, little one," he said, holding the boy with one arm while he cupped the child's face with the other.

Moving only his upper body, he gently rocked the boy in the soothing, confident pattern only a parent would use. His gaze haunted, Julian laid his cheek against the top of the boy's head. "Sh, I've got you," he murmured. "You're safe now."

His actions startled her. It was apparent this was a man who had soothed children before.

But when would a Greek soldier have been around children... ?

Unless he'd been a father.

Grace's mind whirled at the possibility as Julian carefully handed the sobbing boy to his hysterical mother who wailed even louder than the toddler.

Dear Lord, was it possible that Julian could be a father? If so, where were his children?

What had happened to them?

"Steven," his mother wept as she held the boy against her chest. "How many times have I told you to stay by my side?"

"Are you okay?" the father and the driver asked Julian.

Grimacing, Julian ran his hand over his left bicep as if testing the arm. "I'm fine," he said, but Grace noted the way he still favored his right leg where the car had hit him.

"You need a doctor," she said as Selena joined them.

"I'm fine. Really." Julian gave her a halfhearted smile, then lowered his voice so that only she could hear it. "But I have to say, chariots hurt a lot less than cars when they slam into you."

Grace was aghast at his misplaced humor. "How can you make a joke? I thought you were dead."

He shrugged.

As the man continued to thank him profusely for saving his son, Grace glanced at the blood on Julian's arm just above his elbow. Blood that evaporated from his skin like some weird science fiction movie effect.

Suddenly, Julian put his full weight back on his injured leg, and the pain crimping his brow vanished.

She exchanged a wide-eyed stare with Selena, who had also seen it. What the hell was that!

Was Julian human or not?

"I can't thank you enough," the father said again. "I thought he was dead."

"I'm just glad I saw him," Julian whispered. He reached a hand out toward the boy's head.

His fingers were about to brush the light brown curls when he paused. Grace watched emotions war on Julian's face before he recovered his stoicism and dropped his hand back to his side.

Without a word, he headed to the curb.

"Julian?" she asked, rushing to catch up to him. "Are you really okay?"

"Don't worry about me, Grace. I don't break and I seldom bleed." This time, there was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice. "It's a gift of the curse. The Fates forbid I should actually die and escape my punishment."

She flinched at the anguish she saw in his eyes.

But his survival wasn't the only question she had. She wanted to ask him about the child, about the way he had looked at the boy as if reliving some horrible nightmare. But the words lodged themselves in her throat.

"Man, he deserves a hero cookie," Selena said as she joined them. "Upstairs to the Praline Factory!"

"Selena, I don't think-"

"What's a praline?" Julian asked.

"It's Cajun ambrosia," Selena explained, "something that should be right up your alley."

Against Grace's best arguments, Selena led them inside, to the escalator.

Selena took the first stair, then turned back to look at Julian, who stood between them. "How did you do that thing where you flipped over the car? It was awesome!"

Julian shrugged.

"Oh, man, don't be modest. You looked like Keanu Reeves in The Matrix. Gracie, did you see that move he did?"

"I saw it," she said softly, noting just how uncomfortable Selena's praise was making Julian.

She also noted the way the women around them gawked.

Julian was right. It wasn't normal. But then, how often did a man like him appear in the flesh? A man who oozed such raw sexual attraction?

The man was a walking pheromone.

And now a hero.

But most of all, he was a great mystery to her. There was a lot about him she was dying to know. And one way or another over the next month, she was going to learn it.

When they reached the Praline Factory on the top floor, Grace bought two fudge-pecan pralines and a Coke.

Without thinking twice, she held a praline up for Julian.

Instead of taking it from her hand, he leaned forward and took a bite while she held it.

He savored the sugary confection in a way that drove heat through her body, while those searing blue eyes stared at her as if he were wishing she were what he feasted on.

"You were right," he said in that low tone that sent shivers over her. "It is delicious."

"Wow," the female clerk said from across the counter. "That's some accent you got there. You must not be from around these parts."

"No," Julian said. "I'm not."

"So where you from?"

"Macedonia."

"Is that out in California?" the girl asked. "You look like one of those surfer types who hang out on the beach."

He frowned. "California?"

"He's from Greece," Selena supplied for the girl.

"Ah!" the girl said.

Julian arched a censoring brow at her. "Macedonia isn't-"

"Buddy," Selena said around her mouthful of praline, "around here you'd be lucky to find anyone who would know the difference."

Before Grace could respond to Selena's harsh words, Julian placed his hands on her waist and brought her right up against his steely chest.

He leaned down and caught her bottom lip between his teeth, then gently stroked her lip with his tongue.

Her head swam from the tender embrace.

He deepened his kiss an instant before releasing her and stepping back.

"You had sugar on your bottom lip," he explained with a devilish smile that displayed his dimples to perfection.

Grace blinked, amazed at how hot and cold his touch made her. "You could have just said something."

"True, but my way was far more enjoyable."

She couldn't argue that.

Quickly, she stepped away from him and tried to ignore Selena's knowing smile.

"Why are you so afraid of me?" Julian asked unexpectedly as he fell in by her side.

"I'm not afraid of you."

"No? Then what scares you so? Every time I come near you, you cringe."

"I'm not cringing," Grace insisted. Damn, was there an echo?

He reached out to put his arm around her. Grace quickly sidestepped him.

"You're cringing," he said pointedly as they got back on the escalator.

Even though she was on the step below, he braced his arms on each side of her, then leaned his head close to her own. His presence surrounded her, enveloped her, and made her strangely giddy and warm.

She stared at the strength of his tense, tanned hands on the belt behind hers. The way the veins stood out to emphasize the power and beauty of them. Like the rest of him, his hands and arms were gorgeous.

"You've never had an orgasm, have you?" he whispered in her ear.

Grace choked on her praline. "This is not the place to talk about it."

"That's it, isn't it?" he asked. "That's why-"

"That's not it," she interrupted him. "As a matter of fact, I have."

Okay, it was a lie, but he didn't have to know that.

"With a man?"

"Julian!" she snapped. "What is it with you and Selena that you think you can discuss my personal life out in public?"

He dipped his head lower, down to her neck so close that she could feel his breath falling against her skin, smell the warm, clean scent of him. "You know, Grace. I can give you pleasure the likes of which you can't imagine."

A shiver went over her. She could easily believe that.

It would be so easy to let him prove those words.

But she couldn't. It would be wrong, and no matter what he said, it would bother her. And deep down, she suspected it bothered him, as well.

She leaned back ever so slightly and met his gaze. "Has it ever occurred to you that I don't want it?"

He looked shocked by her words. "How can that be?"

"I told you. The next time I get intimate with a man, I want more than just his necessary parts involved. I want his heart."

Julian stared hungrily at her lips. "I can assure you, you wouldn't miss it."

"Yes I would."

Flinching from her as if she'd slapped him, he straightened.

Grace knew she'd struck another nerve. Wanting to discover more about him, she turned to look up at him. "Why is it so important to you that I give in? Does something happen to you if I don't comply?"

He laughed bitterly. "As if anything could be worse."

"Then why can't you just enjoy your time here with me without any..."-she lowered her voice-"sex?"

His eyes flared. "Enjoy what? Enjoy getting to know people whose faces will haunt me for eternity? Do you think I enjoy looking around here knowing that in a few days I'll be pulled back into a blank, empty hole where I can hear, but I can't see, can't taste, feel, or smell, where my stomach churns constantly from hunger and my throat burns with an unquenchable thirst? You are the only thing I'm permitted to enjoy. And you would deny me that."

Tears pricked the backs of her eyes at his words. She didn't want to hurt him. Truly, she didn't.

But it had been a very similar ploy for sympathy that Paul had used to get her into bed, and that event had torn her heart out.

After the death of her parents, Paul had claimed to care about her. He had been there to comfort her and hold her. And then when she had finally trusted him with her body, he had hurt her so badly, so cruelly, that even now it cut her all the way to her soul.

"I am so sorry, Julian. Really, I am. But I can't do this." She left the escalator and headed back through the mall.

"Why?" Julian asked as he and Selena caught up to her.

How could she explain it to him? Paul had hurt her so badly that night. He had had no regard for her feelings. She had begged him to stop but he had persisted.

"Look, it's supposed to hurt the first time." Paul had said. "Jeez, just stop crying. I'll be finished in a minute and then you can leave."

By the time he was finished, she was so humiliated and hurt that she had cried for days.

"Grace?" Julian's voice broke through her whirling thoughts. "What is it?"

It took all her strength to hold her tears back. But she wouldn't cry. Not out in public. Not like this. She would not be pitied.

"It's nothing," she said.

Needing a breath of fresh air, even if it was hotter and thicker than steam, she headed out the side door of the Brewery toward the Moonwalk.

Julian and Selena followed.

"Grace, what made you cry?" Julian asked.

"It's Paul," she heard Selena whisper to Julian.

Grace glared at Selena as she forced herself to calm down. Drawing a ragged breath, she turned back to Julian. "I wish I could just fling myself into bed with you, but I can't. I don't want to be used that way, and I don't want to use you! Can't you understand that?"

His jaw tense, he looked away.

Grace followed his gaze and saw a group of six rough-looking bikers headed in their direction. Their leather outfits had to be stifling in the heat, but they didn't seem to notice as they ribbed each other and laughed.

It was then Grace saw the woman with them. A woman whose slow, seductive walk was the female equivalent to Julian's graceful, loose-limbed saunter. The woman also possessed the kind of rare beauty that would best any actress or model.

Tall and blond, the woman wore a skimpy leather halter and tight short-shorts that hugged a figure Grace would kill to possess.

And the woman was slowing down, falling behind the men as she slid her black sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to stare straight at Julian.

Inwardly, Grace cringed.

Oh, good Lord, this could get ugly fast. None of the scruffy, tough-as-nails bikers looked like the type who would tolerate their girlfriend looking at another guy. And the last thing she wanted was a fight on the Moonwalk.

Grace grabbed Julian's hand to pull him in the other direction.

He refused to move.

"C'mon, Julian," she said urgently. "We need to get back inside."

Still, he didn't budge.

He glared at the bikers as if he wanted to kill them. Then, before she could blink, he shrugged off her hold, and rushed forward. He grabbed one of the men by his shirt.

Dumbfounded, Grace watched as Julian punched the man in the jaw.

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