He didn't push it and for that I was grateful.

And, just to say, also for that, he got deeper in there.

Chapter Twelve.

Hedge Clippers We were walking down the hall toward our room at the lodge, my hand not in the bend of Apollo's arm but held in his, lifted up and pressed close to his chest.

The rest of the "date" had gone well. Really well. No bizarre marriage proposals. No in-depth discussions of birth control. Instead, great food, excellent champagne and the continued discovery that Apollo could be good company.

I was right. He had a great sense of humor. And I knew I was right because I made him laugh often during dinner. I also found I liked doing it. A whole lot. Mostly because I knew he'd struggled with the loss of his wife for a long time, and his rich laughter and quick smiles made me feel like I'd scaled mountains.

In fact, it was actually Apollo who led the conversation to calmer waters, asking about my world, and laughing about such things as reality television shows and treadmills.

"Why on earth would someone run on a machine and not through a meadow...or run at all unless they had to which would not be a positive happenstance?" he'd asked while chuckling and I'd had no answer because I didn't have one and also because I was laughing too.

He'd also told me a bit more about his world, mostly about the Houses, explaining I was right about Danforth. He was of Apollo's ilk and he wasn't Apollo's favorite person.

"There is nothing genuine about that man. But then, there are many in the lesser Houses where this is the case. Always scheming to better their positions or attempting to hide their weaknesses."

That didn't make me feel great about socializing with the upper-crust but I'd learned that knowing what you were facing was a lot better than not so I was grateful to know it.

In other words, the date had gone great. And Apollo had been wonderful.

But now the date was over.

So now my mind was in a battle. The battle I knew was totally irrational of the panic I felt that I was about to get me some and it was highly likely it was going to be good but that good was not under the influence of magical tea created by a G.o.ddess. This was fighting against extreme excitement that I was going to get me some and it was highly likely it was going to be good.

I had, of course, noted in all our discussions of adela tea, Apollo had not explained one of its effects was making you an excellent lover. So, my guess was, if you were c.r.a.p in bed before adela tea, you were the same but more p.r.o.nounced with it.

And the opposite was true.

So Apollo was far from c.r.a.p in bed. Way far.

In other words, in my internal battle, the excitement was winning.

My heart started beating faster when Apollo pulled the key from his pocket, unlocked the door, returned the key and was reaching for the doork.n.o.b when my hand in his squeezed and I said, "Wait."

He turned into me and looked down at me, brow raised.

Pol couldn't raise one brow and I liked it that Apollo could. It was s.e.xy.

Okay, so pretty much everything about him was s.e.xy.

That was not what I intended to share with him.

I looked to his throat, then his shoulder, trying to find the words.

No, trying to find the courage.

c.r.a.p.

"Poppy?"

I looked to his eyes, thought, f.u.c.k it, and went for it.

"In my world, after a date," I began and his hand in mine tightened. "The guy...well, he..." I pulled in a deep breath and finished on a whisper, "At her door, he kisses her."

His eyes went lazy and his hand holding mine slid up his chest toward his shoulder as his other hand came out to cup my jaw and he murmured, "I see there may be things in your world that I would like."

A tingle slid up my spine as I watched his head descend. I then decided he shouldn't have to do all the work so rolled up to my toes.

His mouth finally hit mine and his fingers slid back into my hair as he molded his lips to mine, taking his time. Finally the tip of his tongue touched my lips.

I opened my mouth.

His tongue glided inside.

At the taste of him, a taste I really liked, I melted into him.

When I did, his hand let mine go and his arm wrapped around me tight. I curved my arm around his shoulders, going further up on my toes as he slanted his head, I tilted mine and the kiss went from sweet and wet to sweet, wet and wild.

So, if that kiss was any indication, I was right about him not needing the adela tea to be good at this.

He was good at this.

Very good at it.

Way too soon, he broke the kiss but not the connection of our lips and his voice was rough when he said, "Oh yes, there are things from your world I like."

I knew what he meant and it was sweet, so I smiled.

He moved away, grabbed my hand, threw open the door and pulled me inside.

He slammed it shut behind me, turned the lock, all of this with his hand still in mine which was good. It was good because, the minute the door was locked, he gave my arm a firm tug. I fell toward him, colliding with his body seeing as it was moving my way, and both my arms went around his shoulders as both his arms came around me. He started walking me backward and his head began to dip toward mine again.

My eyes were closing, my head tipping back, ready for it, wanting it, all of it, when suddenly he stopped us and his head jerked up.

I was about to ask him why he'd stopped when I was unexpectedly flung to the side. I gave a small, surprised cry, my thigh hit a chair, I tumbled into a table and as I reeled, I saw Apollo bend to his boot.

"Run, Maddie, now!" he roared.

I didn't run.

This was because my blood had turned to ice seeing as not one, not two, but three men all wielding freaking swords were flooding into the small sitting room of our suite.

As I noted, they had swords and there were three of him. But although Apollo had produced a knife, he had no sword and there was just one of him.

And they weren't delaying in attacking.

s.h.i.t!

What the f.u.c.k?

I watched as, with some fancy footwork, a lot of ducking and lunging and his small blade crashing against their long ones, Apollo was holding his own. But even as he executed a ducking lunge and pulled another knife out of his other boot, I knew he couldn't hold his own for long.

No one could.

There were three of them!

With swords!

It hit my brain I couldn't run because if I did, I'd be leaving him and there was no doubt in my mind that if I left him, I'd never see him again. Or I wouldn't see him when he was breathing.

I liked him breathing.

I just liked him.

And we'd just had a great first date. Sure, it started out rocky, but it ended up with that kiss and I'd be d.a.m.ned if he was going to die as a finale.

So I instantly prioritized and ran past the fray to the bedroom. I got to his saber that was resting against his trunk, grabbed it and extracted it from its scabbard on the dash back as I heard the battle clash on.

I will note this was hard because that mother was freaking heavy, but I still managed it.

I was thinking, in the movies, if you tossed a sword to someone who knew how to use it, they could catch it by the handle and carry on fighting without delay.

When Apollo had taken on Pol, he demonstrated he could use a sword.

I just hopped he was really good at it.

I hit the outer room and was thrilled beyond anything he was still holding his own.

But his attention was kind of taken.

c.r.a.p.

There was nothing for it.

I had to create an opening.

I grabbed the handle of the saber in both hands, shifted it so the flat was what sang through the air and did what Apollo did with Pol.

I smacked one of the bad guys upside the head with it.

Hard.

He staggered to the side.

Me entering the fray caused a diversion that Apollo took advantage of because it surprised the men, but not him.

He didn't miss a beat, shoved one of his knives in his belt, held a hand toward me and shouted, "Saber!"

G.o.d, I hoped he was as good as those guys in the movies.

I tossed it to him point up.

He caught it by the handle in one hand, whirled, and with a mid-body slice, gutted one of the bad dudes.

Holy c.r.a.p!

When the guy's innards became outtards, I felt my eyes go huge as bile shot up my throat and I staggered back.

But Apollo barked, "Maddie, b.l.o.o.d.y go!"

The one Apollo sliced was down on his back and I was thinking it was a good guess he was continuing the swordfight on some celestial plain. However, the one I'd conked was reentering the action and Apollo again had his hands full.

Two against one. Still no fair.

I focused and not on my wave of nausea. Instead, on a lamp on a table close by. I grabbed it and lifted it over my head. Shuffling this way and that around the battle, I tried to get my opening to smash it on one of the bad dudes' heads.

"Maddie, what did I say?" Apollo thundered, still clashing steel.

I ignored him because there it was.

My shot.

Crash!

I landed the gla.s.s lantern hard on the guy's head and he went down instantly, out like a light.

I turned to Apollo just in time to watch him make light work of the last one. That was, he disarmed him of his sword with a whirling flourish that actually pulled the sword from the guy's hand but kept control of it with the tip of his saber whereupon Apollo could twirl it aside, far out of reach.

Oh yeah. He was good at this sword s.h.i.t.

Alas, as this was happening, Apollo was momentarily engaged in doing it, so the guy went for the knife on his belt.

Before I could cry out a warning, Apollo came back and carved his saber through the side of the guy's neck.

A sickening spray of blood spurted.

I gasped and took a step back.