E. D. Faust's vacation home had been built to look like a charming Tuscan villa. Pamela was relieved. Yes, she'd seen the blueprints and read through the architectural notes James had given her, but after Eddie's bizarre request to make the interior look like The Forum, she had been leery about what to expect. Of course as they got out of the limo and approached the impressive double wrought-iron doors within which was set outrageously expensive, hand-blown, etched and beveled glass, she remembered that she'd thought that the outside of The Forum meant that the inside was modestly styled and classically tasteful. Please. Talk about mistaken first impressions.

She glanced at Artemis, who looked cool and beautiful in the morning sunlight. Her cheeks were attractively flushed, and one long curl of bright blond hair had escaped her elaborate coiffure.

The goddess smoothed down the skirt of her short tunic, hiccupped, and then giggled slightly. Pamela scrutinized her more closely. Oh, crap! She looked tipsy. Why in the bloody buggering hell had she not thought to keep her eyes open and on Artemis? Just exactly how many mimosas had she slurped down in thirty minutes on an empty stomach while she'd been sitting there obliviously clutching Apollo's carsick hand?

"Are you drunk?" she hissed.

Artemis gave her a bleary frown. "Immortals do not get drunk. Only mortals get drunk. Don't be a silly little flower." She shook her finger at Pamela.

Pamela rolled her eyes. "You're not immortal right now, remember!" She squelched the sudden urge to scream. Instead, she looked at Apollo for help. His face was an odd shade somewhere between white and green. She watched him wipe sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Are you okay?"

He nodded tightly. "Better now that we're out of that..." He shuddered and looked off in the direction the car had taken.

"Limo," she said. "It's a limo." She was stuck in a revolving nightmare. "All right. Here's what we do. You two try not to speak unless you're asked a question directly, and even then, I'll do most of the talking. Let's go. We might as well get this over with."

Pamela adjusted the strap on her shoulder briefcase and started purposefully up the lovely curving marble stairs. The twins followed her less purposefully. Just before she touched the antique doorbell, she heard a scuffling sound behind her and Artemis' very out-of-character giggle. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Apollo had his sister's elbow.

"She almost fell," he said under his breath.

"Impossssable," Artemis slurred.

"Oh, God," Pamela muttered.

The double doors opened, and James's smiling face greeted them.

"Please come in, Pamela. Eddie is in the courtyard waiting for you." His smile shifted to polite curiosity as Apollo and Artemis followed Pamela into the foyer.

"These are two assistants I've hired. Experts, really," Pamela said quickly.

"I'm sure Eddie will be pleased by your initiative. He has been eagerly anticipating your meeting all weekend. Come this way, please."

James led them across the foyer, a mammoth space from which two curving staircases with old-world marble railings ran up to a second level of the villa. But the marble railings were the only finished aspect of the interior.

Everything else was bare. The walls were still Sheetrock; the floor was still cement. The entire back wall, which they were approaching, was fitted with floor-to-ceiling windows, so new that they still had their orange factory stickers on them. But Pamela didn't see the rawness as she walked slowly through the unfinished space. She gazed around her, seeing only its unlimited potential.

"It is horrible," Apollo said under his breath to her. "There is no floor, no walls, no decoration whatsoever."

"No, it's perfect," she whispered hastily back to him. "The foundation is here, but the floors and walls are all unfinished; most of the fixtures have not even been installed. It's like a blank canvas. It's my job to choose wisely and to make sure this is turned into a masterpiece."

James was waiting patiently beside the glass door that led to what Pamela already knew from the blueprints to be the central feature of the mansion - the amazing courtyard around which the rest of the villa had been built in an open-ended square shape. When they reached him, James opened the door and motioned them through. It was only then that Pamela noticed the crowd of people who were gathered in the courtyard. In answer to her questioning look, James only smiled and pointed to the middle of the crowd where E. D. Faust was seated at a marble bench piled high with swatches of material.

"Ah, Pamela!" he cried when he caught sight of her.

Rising to his feet, he reminded Pamela of a movable mountain. Again today he was dressed exclusively in black, from his well-tailored slacks to his silk dress shirt, the sleeves of which had been fashioned to mimic the fullness of a painter's smock. Or, she thought as she noted the twinkle in his dark eyes, a pirate's shirt.

"Good morning, Eddie," Pamela said. "This is quite a crowd."

"All for you, Pamela!" He laughed heartily, his great girth shaking like a rumbling earthquake. "I've brought all the artisans to you. I thought it would save us time to have them here at our beck and call. They simply await our commands."

Pamela couldn't believe it. She looked around the group, and her eyes widened as she noticed that each little cluster of people had beside them mounds of what were obviously samples of everything from more fabric swatches to pieces of marble and other raw stone and paint boards that held paint and faux finish samples. Eddie had turned his courtyard into an interior designer's minimarket. It was mind-boggling and more than a little intimidating. Then she remembered she'd brought her own entourage. Well, such as they were.

"Good." She recovered control of her vocal cords semi-smoothly. "You're right. That will definitely save us some time. And let me introduce the assistants I brought with me today."

She angled her body so that Apollo stepped up beside her. Artemis, who had been standing behind her brother staring with tipsy focus at a speck of lint on the back of his shirt, suddenly realized that there was an audience to play to, and she moved languidly to the other side of Pamela.

At the appearance of the golden twins, the gathering let out a collective sigh of appreciation.

"This is Phoebus Delos, an expert in ancient Roman architecture."

Pamela was pleased to see Apollo incline his head politely at Faust, but the author barely glanced in his direction. His eyes were blind to everything except the beautiful goddess who stood at her other side. Pamela drew a deep breath, mentally crossing her fingers.

"And this is his sister, Diana. She is a model who is renowned for her beauty throughout Greece and Italy. I realize that you told me that you preferred to retain Bacchus as the model for the central figure of your fountain, but I thought that perhaps - "

Her words were broken off when Artemis moved forward with a loose-hipped, languid stride until she stood an arm's length from the bulky author. There she stopped, raised one perfect hand to the elaborate twisting crown of her hair, and with a slight pull she freed its golden length so that it spilled in a thick wave to wash around her waist. She shook her head, and it glistened hypnotically in the morning light.

"Pamela thought that perhaps you would rather model your statue after a goddess," she purred.

Pamela had to hand it to her - Artemis was one excellent actress. Just like during her performance in Zumanity, she had the crowd totally enamored. Faust looked like he'd been knocked over the head, then he blinked, and his face was transformed into a wide smile. He executed an amazingly graceful bow, flourishing his arm rakishly.

"Well met, Diana!" he boomed. "My home is honored to be graced by the presence of the Goddess of the Moon, Forests and Glens." He spared a glance for Apollo. "And you, my fine fellow, must be the God of Light. How divertingly entertaining that your mother thought to name you after the immortal twins."

Pamela's stomach twisted. Of course a man who made his career out of writing fantasy would instantly recognize the poorly hidden truth in their names. What the hell should she say? Could Faust possibly realize who they really were?

Apollo smiled and spoke smoothly. "You have found us out, sir."

"Please, there is no sir here. Call me Eddie." His eyes swung back to the woman who still stood in front of him. "Pamela, already you have proven that you are the genius I thought you to be. Now that I am face-to-face with a goddess, I heartily agree with you. The center statue of my fountain shall be changed. Bacchus is banished, and the beauty of the Goddess Diana embraced in his stead."

Pamela breathed a sigh of relief, and Artemis performed a liquidly graceful curtsy.

"No! It is not seemly for a goddess to bow," Faust reached quickly forward and pulled Artemis up from her deep curtsy.

"Finally," Artemis said breathily, "a mortal who knows how to treat a goddess."

Pamela bit her lip, but Eddie chuckled with good humor, took the goddess's hand, and raised it briefly to his lips.

"But of course I do." He looked over the crowd of workers gathered around them. "Which of you has the talent to sketch this lovely goddess so that a stone master can then carve her immortal image into marble?"

"Wouldn't it be easier to have some digital pictures taken of her in different poses, and then the sculptor could work from them?" Pamela asked hastily.

"Easier, perhaps, but it feels wrong to me. Too cold. Too impersonal."

"But Diana will only be available until Friday. After that she has a... uh... prior commitment that she can not break," Pamela said.

"Then we must work quickly, because I wish to have my goddess immortalized in the ancient way. Phoebus, you're an expert in ancient Rome. How would it have been done then?"

"You are quite correct. The sculptor would have sketched his model and then worked from his sketches." Apollo paused and quirked one eyebrow up. "That is, unless you have hired Pygmalion. I believed he worked from the image of the woman he saw only in his heart." He suddenly shifted his gaze to Pamela and sent her a scorching look. "But few of us are lucky enough to have our heart's desire granted."

Pamela forced herself not to squirm. He said he was cut off from his immortal powers, but when Apollo looked at her like that, she felt hot and cold and tingly all at once.

Faust didn't seem to notice the byplay going on between his designer and her assistant; his attention had been captured by his own immortal. "Ah, but we have Diana with us, not Galatea, so a sketch of the model it shall be."

"Galatea was not a goddess. She was only stone brought to life by one," Artemis said, sounding vaguely annoyed.

"How true! How true!" Eddie exclaimed. "Pygmalion was not as fortunate as I."

"I can sketch your goddess, sir." A young man disengaged himself from the crowd.

"Excellent," Eddie said. "We have our artist; we have our model. I believe I have some photographs of the original fountain in The Forum. I suppose the artisans can work from that whilst our goddess is being sketched."

"Actually," Pamela said as she opened her briefcase and hurriedly pulled out her sketch book, "I thought that you might like something unique, so I worked up some preliminary sketches of a new fountain - based, of course, on the one you like so much in The Forum. I just didn't want to fill in the central statue without your approval. I think you'll be quite happy with them."

"Pamela conferred with me on the sketches, and I can assure you that the fountain she has created is one that even the gods would have welcomed on Mount Olympus," Apollo said.

"Well done, Pamela!" Eddie took the sketchbook from her and nodded appreciatively. "Mount Olympus." He chuckled, "I would expect no less for a fountain boasting a sculpture of our Diana. Please, share these sketches with our artist." He glanced expectantly at the young man.

"Matthew," he supplied. "My name is Matthew Land."

"Come, Matthew, Pamela, Phoebus and my lovely Diana. Let us sit and decide upon the details of my home." Eddie offered Artemis his arm. She smiled sweetly and rested her fingertips on the top of his silken sleeve. "Is there anything you require, Diana?" he asked as he led her around the marble bench.

"Yes. I have recently developed a liking for something called a mimosa."

Pamela tried not to groan as Eddie shouted for James to have his chef prepare mimosas for everyone.

Pamela glanced at her watch. She could hardly believe that it was after 4:00 P.M. The day had passed in a busy blur. It had certainly gone worlds better than she had anticipated. Ironically and irritatingly enough, she knew she had Artemis to thank for that. Pamela looked up from the glossy catalogue page of old-world-styled lighting fixtures the representative from Shonbeck was showing her. Eddie was pretending to pay attention as Apollo and the architect went over the latest version of the bathhouse sketch they had been working on for most of the day. In truth, Eddie was doing what he had done for the past several hours - he was gazing in rapt adoration at Artemis.

Artemis was incredibly beautiful. Even the flamingly gay fabric representatives had sighed wistfully over the perfection of her hair and her breasts and the lean lines of her legs. Currently, she was standing on a raised platform that Eddie had ordered erected, holding a large vase against one hip from which water would eventually pour when the sketch was turned into a sculpture turned into a fountain. It made Pamela dizzy just to think about it - and that was without figuring the expense Eddie would be incurring for this original piece of art. But her client seemed happy, and the fountain was actually going to be very beautiful. Plus, it was definitely going to be minus the awful animation. One horrified gasp from Artemis in response to the mention of animation, and Eddie had quickly vetoed the idea. Just like a frown from the goddess had been enough to talk Eddie out of building the horrid ginormic swimming pool and instead going with the tasteful, unique Roman bathhouse idea.

Those two issues dealt with, everything else was turning out to be a breeze. Eddie's taste wasn't as atrocious as Pamela had at first thought. It was just that his whole aura was so damn big. His ideas were big, and not just in his epic-length best-selling novels. E. D. Faust filled the world around him with the largess of life. Yes, he was eccentric. Actually, Pamela thought that he seemed like a character from one of his novels, larger than life and constantly ready for a new adventure. She smiled to herself. His flamboyance took a little getting used to, but she understood why people gravitated to him. Eddie was as generous as his size. The truth was, E. D. Faust was honestly a nice guy.

It had taken a little gentle nudging, with the help of Artemis and Apollo, but Pamela had convinced him to shift the design of his villa from the tacky pretend Romanesque Forum, to something that was beginning to remind her of the set of Elizabeth Taylor's Cleopatra. The design emerging was no less opulent than Caesars Palace and The Forum, it was just much more chic.

Her gaze shifted from Eddie's bulk to Apollo. His golden head was bent and his expression intent as he nodded at something the architect had just drawn in on the sketch. As if he knew she was looking at him, his eyes lifted to hers. She looked hastily away, but not before she saw his lips tilt up in the barest hint of a smile. He'd caught her again. And it hadn't been a difficult thing for him to do. She'd been sneaking glances at him all day. He knew it. She knew it. And she couldn't help it. He'd just been so damned wonderful! He'd meticulously described the workings of the ancient bathhouses of Rome in detail to Eddie and his architect. He'd been more than patient with their endless questions. He'd answered them intelligently and with such focus that even to Pamela he sounded like an enthusiastic expert. And not once had he exhibited the obnoxious arrogance Pamela thought of when she imagined what the real Apollo should act like.

She couldn't say the same for Artemis. Even though she was definitely on her best behavior today, she was still maddeningly demanding and conceited. Fortunately, Eddie seemed to enjoy playing along with her goddess "charade." It was a good thing that Eddie had insisted the kitchen be completed before he'd called Pamela to design the rest of the villa, because all that day Artemis had kept the chef busy with her demands for drinks and delicacies. And Eddie, who obviously enjoyed good drink and food himself, had been delighted to indulge his "goddess's" every whim.

Apollo seemed so different than his sister. Pamela had to admit it to herself, he was the same attentive, intelligent man today he had been all weekend. But he wasn't really a man; he was a god. No woman with any sense wanted to entangle her life with one of the ancient gods... She sighed and forced her attention back to the page of fixtures.

"Eddie," Artemis sounded like a pouty little girl. "My arm is dreadfully tired of holding this silly vase. And I believe I'm hot. I think I might perish if I don't sit down."

"Of course, of course, my goddess!" Eddie lurched to his feet and hurried to take the vase from Artemis. Brushing aside the young artist when he tried to help his model from the platform, Eddie took Artemis' elbow and supported her as she stepped delicately from the makeshift altar. "Look at the time! How unthinking of me. We have been at this for hours. Much too long for a goddess to labor, much too long." He raised his large hand, and his deep voice silenced even the workers who had been busy with the interior of the villa. "I proclaim that we are all finished for the day!" he called. "We shall meet again at the same time on the morrow."

There were sighs all around at Eddie's command. It had been a hard but productive day, and Pamela hated to admit it, but for what felt like the zillionth time, she was thankful that she had let Apollo talk her into bringing them along. She was rubbing the back of her neck and trying to work out a kink that had settled there, when Eddie's booming, "Pamela!" summoned her to his bench.

"Ah, there you are, my dear." He motioned for her to take a seat next to where Apollo was sitting across from him. Artemis was, of course, seated beside him, fanning herself with a feathered fan that Eddie had produced. Pamela noted that the goddess was currently sipping straight champagne from an iced crystal flute. It was a good thing Artemis would be immortal again in a few days. At the rate she was going, it was either immortality or alcoholism.

"I've been discussing our new arrangements with the lovely Diana and her brother, and I believe we are all in agreement."

Pamela felt an all-too-familiar sinking in her stomach. "Arrangements? What arrangements?"

"It's quite simple, really. There is no need for the three of you to drive all the way back to Vegas when you can all stay with me," Eddie beamed.

"But the only room that's finished is the kitchen."

Eddie chuckled. "Not here. I have reserved the Spring Mountain Ranch House at the Red Rock Canyon Resort. It has rather modest accommodations, but it's much closer to the villa than Caesars Palace. There really is no point in your returning there anyway. We no longer need The Forum as our example of ancient Rome. We have Phoebus."

"But my clothes... and, uh, Diana and Phoebus didn't bring much with them."

Pamela's eyes darted to Artemis. The goddess serenely sipped her champagne and then winked slyly at her.

Eddie waved away her worries. "James will take care of fetching your things, and Diana has already explained to me that she and her brother had only planned to stay the day, but they have graciously accepted my offer to extend their stay for the week. Anything our goddess needs I would be honored to purchase for her at the resort."

"Dinner, Eddie, dinner," Artemis sighed. "I can not believe how positively famished I am."

"Of course," he patted her hand. "It has been a tiring day. Let us retire to the ranch and sup and be merry." Eddie rose ponderously from the bench. Artemis lifted one hand so that he could help her to her feet. And then, moving with a decidedly more wobbly step than her usual graceful stride, she clung to the big man's arm as he lumbered from the courtyard, bellowing for Robert to bring the car.

"I guess we have little choice in this," Pamela said, hesitant to look directly at Apollo now that they were alone for the first time that day.

"I have already made my choice, sweet Pamela," he said.

She looked at him then. He smiled his familiar, endearing smile at her, and her chest tightened.

"Sometimes it's easy to forget who you really are," she said softly.

He touched her face. "You already know who I really am. You've known since the night we met."

"But you're not just a man," she said.

"I am for the next five days."

Then he mimicked Eddie's actions by standing and taking her hand and helping her to her feet. She let him thread her arm through his as they walked through the emptying courtyard. He felt warm and normal and right beside her. And that scared her so much that she started to pull her arm from his, but he suddenly stopped in the middle of the foyer. She felt a tremor go through his body, and she looked up at him. His face had gone pale. She followed his staring gaze. James was holding the front doors of the villa open for them, and through them Pamela could see Robert helping first Artemis then Eddie into the waiting limo.

"I'd completely forgotten about that metal creature," Apollo said.

"Come on, I'll make sure you sit up front this time." Pamela tightened her grip on his arm and pulled him forward. He was Apollo, God of Light, Music and Healing, an immortal who had lived for eons and about whom stories and poems and songs had been written. But he was also wretchedly carsick.

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