"We wouldn't be able to see them. Don't you know? The G.o.ds can make themselves invisible." I told him about the accounts of deliveries to the island, the strict protocol followed on each sailor's delivery. "The thing is, this is not an expected delivery. There won't be someone waiting on the beach. It's a scout from above you'll have to worry about."

"You think they'll shoot me?"

"Not with bullets. Plus, you're simply delivering a crate. It will catch them by surprise. Hopefully, it'll make them curious instead of angry."

"Are you coming with me for this delivery?"

"Yes." I didn't say more. If all went well, I would leave the island another way. If things didn't go well, I wouldn't be leaving at all.

Two dresses waited for me at the hotel. The desk clerk was just heading out the door at the end of his shift when he saw me and ushered me with enthusiasm toward a closet in the office. "They are very nice. Yes?"

Both dresses were white. One had a halter bodice similar to the one I'd worn in Eros's kingdom. The fabric was white satin, and the waistline was fitted with a back zipper.

The second dress had a drape neckline that was set with sequins and rhinestones. At the waist was a gaudy gold belt. I handed it to the clerk. "Send this one back. I'll take the satin one."

He agreed, and I took the elevator upstairs, where I immediately tried on the dress. The label was a designer I recognized. I wore his clothes on the runway, and without standing in front of the mirror, I knew the fit was perfect. He was a lesser known designer whose line focused mostly on the Italian market, so the dress cost a fraction of what the Valentino had.

Though I tried to sleep, I couldn't. I thought of ordering room service, but I knew I wouldn't be able to eat. In the early afternoon I ventured out to buy sandals to wear with my dress. It was fall, and the shops were pushing leather boots for winter, but I found some strappy, gold sandals on a clearance rack.

The breeze lifted my hair. The smell of coffee and baking bread floated in the air. Of all the places for me to seek Aphrodite, I was glad it was Italy to which I'd come. Though the city was different, and I didn't speak much Italian, it felt familiar. I didn't realize until now how much I enjoyed Milan. Italy was my home away from home, and I found some solace here.

I probably could have used a strong cappuccino, but I ordered a pastry and herbal tea at a cafe. I didn't want to be any more jittery than I already was. While I waited for my order, I wrote a short letter to my dad explaining why I came to Italy. I apologized for running away, told him I loved him, and asked that he not hold a public funeral for me if I never returned.

Nightfall came slowly. I stood at the window of my hotel room and wished I could reach out and push the sun down. I was dressed in jeans, a black T-shirt, and tennis shoes. My duffle bag lay at my feet. The clothes I'd packed for the trip were strewn on the bed, and now the bag held only the white dress, sandals and Eros's gifts. I left instructions at the front desk to mail the letter to Dad if I didn't return by tomorrow night.

The Swiss was waiting on the shuttle, also dressed in dark clothes and probably hoping it would make him a more difficult target, not that he believed there was really anyone on the island. A large wooden crate sat on the bow of the boat. The print on the side said it contained furniture. After checking that it was secure, I tossed the duffle bag inside. "How do you plan to unload this?"

The man shrugged. "I can run aground on the beach and drop it off the front. The cargo isn't breakable is it?"

"No, that will be fine."

The engine's roar drowned the lap of the water on the pier and the music wafting from a bistro down the street. I stood near the steering column taking calming breaths while he drove. The trip to the Fortress took just under a quarter of an hour. When the shadow of the island came into view, I told him to cut the engine. It was time to load the crate. He watched dumbfounded as I climbed inside.

"Oh, come on. You had to have guessed I was the package?" When he didn't answer, I continued. "Just make sure you get me onto the beach. Don't dump me in the water. Then get the heck out of there." I paid him the rest of his fee.

He looked down at the bills and shook his head. Then he stowed the cash in his pants pocket and pressed the lid down on the crate. A moment later the engine roared to life again.

My heart pounded a hurried rhythm as the motor softened. Shards of moonlight slanted through the lid of the crate. The bright moon made the boat easier to see. We glided slowly to the beach. I felt a sudden jerk as the bow struck sand. We were there.

Chapter 14.

He grunted and heaved the crate. I tumbled backward. The crate rolled twice and landed on the lid. I rocked hard to the side so I wouldn't be trapped. Then I waited. The boat's engine rumbled low until it cleared the shallow water near the beach, then jumped full throttle in the distance. That was my cue. If someone watched from above, now he would leave his post to inspect the crate. I had only seconds to move.

I kicked the crate open, crouched low and ran into the shadow of the cliff. There I stripped down to my underwear and pulled on the white dress. In my hurry, the zipper gave me trouble, but I managed to get it up and the neck tied. I slid into the sandals while pulling on the belt and arm cuff. The bracelet was too difficult to clasp in the dark, so I put the pendant on first. It was the most important part of this costume. As I fastened it on my forehead, I heard voices above. They were coming. I threw my clothes and the bracelet into the duffle bag and hid it in the bushes. Then I stumbled onto the beach, where I could be seen, glowing like an apparition all in white.

I hoped they weren't veiled, or my ruse was off. I went toward the voices, and just as they broke from the trees, I reached out to them and let myself collapse on the sand.

With an exclamation in Eros's language, the two young men ran toward me. I let my eyes flutter open and saw their concerned faces. Like Eros's servants they were in their late teens. One shook me, asking me questions. I closed my eyes and let my head fall limply. He took the bait. He gathered me into his arms and carried me toward the palace.

The entrance to the palace was hidden in the foliage. We entered a cave, crossed through a doorway, then climbed a circular stairwell before breaking into the light of the palace foyer. Once inside, the other man shouted, "Theron! Theron!"

We pa.s.sed through the foyer into a great, round room. Though my head dangled against the man's shoulder, I kept my eyes half-open. Eight pillars held up the frescoed ceiling. White chairs and lounge benches stood in cl.u.s.ters around the room. Onto one of these benches I was laid. The guy who carried me shook me gently, then took my face into his hands until I opened my eyes fully. I blinked at the brightness of the room.

He asked me something, probably, "Are you all right?" or "What's your name?"

I did not speak.

A man in his late twenties came to see the cause of all the commotion. He wore mortal clothes like he had been on the mainland. With light hair that fell in unruly waves around his forehead, he would have been inhumanly handsome if it hadn't been for his menacing eyes. This was Theron, the bodyguard Gina warned me about.

At his approach, the others offered brief, muttered explanations before retreating halfway across the room. Theron knelt before me, looked closely at my face, then reached out with one flawless hand. He caught me by the throat and squeezed just hard enough to threaten without cutting off the air. He rocked back on his heels, rose and took me with him.

Now that I stood before him, he released my throat and inspected me. His eyes took in the belt, the arm cuff, skittered over the pendant but settled onto the bodice of my dress. He walked a circle around me, touching my shoulder as he pa.s.sed, then drew his finger across my back to the zipper. I was caught. The immortals didn't use zippers.

"Which part of 'No Trespa.s.sing' don't you understand?" he whispered. His English was as flawless as his beauty.

"Please," I answered softly, "I came to see Aphrodite."

At the mention of her name, he spun me around, threw me against a ma.s.sive column, and held me there with a forearm across my chest. He pulled a knife from his belt and brought it near my cheek. He glared into my eyes. "How dare you come here and further insult the G.o.ddess? I have every right to kill you." Over his shoulder he called to the other servants, "You fools brought a mortal into the palace."

When one protested, Theron grabbed my hand and sliced the blade across my palm. I yelped in pain as the cut erupted angry red. "Immortal blood is clear," he told me. "Aphrodite will have nothing to do with you."

Pain flared my temper. I shoved him hard and freed myself from the pillar. "I would have told them what I was if you'd given me the chance!" I squeezed my hand into a fist, trying to slow the bleeding. "I'm Eros's betrothed," I said, "and I seek an audience with the G.o.ddess, Aphrodite."

Theron looked more closely at the pendant. His eyes twitched slightly as he recognized the signature. Then his jaw set in frustration. Apparently the pendant carried more sway than he let on. "This way."

He pressed the knife against my back as we pa.s.sed through the vast rooms. The windows were shuttered so they gave no light to the exterior. The mansion was very old, but electric lighting and indoor plumbing had been added. The pipes and conduits showed along the ceilings and walls, but these were the only things that dated the interior. The furnishings were lavish and new. The hallway floor was marble. Hammered bronze chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and matching sconces lit the hallway.

On the upper level we stood before double doors, and Theron told me to open them. White wall-to-wall carpet spread between the pale blue walls. A woman rose from a pillowed chair with her back to us. "Did you get rid of the trespa.s.ser?"

"I thought you might want to see her," Theron replied.

She turned, and he motioned to the pendant. Her mouth flattened into a line as she approached.

"Did you know they were one and the same?" Theron asked.

Aphrodite studied my face then the signature on my forehead. "I a.s.sure you, I did not."

I was no scholar of Greek mythology, but Aphrodite wasn't what I imagined. She was beautiful, of course-amazingly so-but she held her features with a hard edge. Like her bodyguard, she had piercing blue eyes. She'd pa.s.sed her high cheekbones and radiant skin on to her beautiful son. She was as tall as me, slender, and would be hard pressed to pa.s.s for forty, so ageless was her face.

"What is this?" She gestured to the hand dripping blotches of red onto my dress and leaving a puddle at my feet. "Theron, fetch some rags and bandage this." As soon as the door closed behind him, she asked, "Why did you come? If you knew the way, you must have known the risk."

"I didn't care about risks. I have to talk to Eros." I stepped forward, but was caught by her quick glance, which told me plainly I had not been invited to move. I retreated onto the square of marble just inside the doorway. "He didn't give me a chance to explain. I was afraid, but I love him."

"I doubt he would believe that, even if I told him."

"There must be a way," I pleaded, "for me to prove myself to him."

Theron returned with bandages. After he slapped some gauze on the wound, wrapped it with a long strip of cloth and tied it snugly, Aphrodite spoke, "I'll propose three tasks. If you complete them, I'll grant you an audience with Eros." I agreed without hesitation, but Aphrodite held up her hand, and Theron chuckled like I'd agreed to swim the Atlantic.

"If you don't complete them, you will never again hear Eros's voice or see his face. You will live your life as if you'd never met him."

Her offer stank, but there was no other way. I couldn't find him on my own.

"We'll have this down in writing, so it's legal." She took sheets of parchment and a calligraphy pen from the drawer of an antique desk. She wrote two copies of the contract and offered them to me.

I shook my head. "In English. I won't sign something I can't read."

Aphrodite let out an exasperated sigh, then offered the paper and pen to Theron. "In English."

He sat at the desk and translated her writing into beautiful English script, then offered the contracts to me. I read both and found they laid out the terms exactly as she spoke them. She added that refusal to perform a task was deemed a forfeiture. I took the offered pen and signed my name under the terms of the contract on both copies. My hand left a smudge of blood next to my name.

Theron fingered the smudge. "Even better."

Aphrodite read the contract again. Satisfied, she signed her name, then she turned to me. "I'll keep the pendant as collateral in our agreement." She held out her hand.

"You have a contract signed in blood. You don't need collateral."

"I think I do."

Before I could shy away, Theron s.n.a.t.c.hed the pendant from my head taking a handful of hair with it. I growled in pain, and his eyes glistened with satisfaction. He pa.s.sed the pendant into Aphrodite's hand. She slipped it into her pocket and went to a bedside table. From the drawer she took a magazine. Across the room I recognized the cover, and I knew what was inside-the Venus ad.

She thumbed the pages and she came toward me. "You openly mocked me in print. You stole the love of my only son, and then you burned him." She stopped on the full-color, double-page spread of the Venus advertis.e.m.e.nt. There was no kindness in the set of her shoulders now.

That contract was going to be the death of me.

"How many of these are there?"

I didn't answer.

"At least a million," Theron offered.

Cosmopolitan's U.S. circulation topped three million, but I wasn't about to tell Aphrodite that.

"And, there are billboards," Theron added.

There was noticeable frustration in her voice. "How many?"

"Only a handful," I interjected. I wanted to elbow Theron in the gut, but he'd probably break my arm.

"Your first task is to rid the mortal world of this despicable Venus painting."

"Photograph," Theron corrected.

"You don't know even how many there are," I said. "Even if I got every one, you would lie and say I failed. No, you pick a number. Tell me how many you want, and I will get them."

Aphrodite's cheeks blushed with rising fury. "One million..." Her eyes searched Theron's face for help. From the corner of my eye, I saw him lift his chin. "... four hundred thousand of these little ones." She held up the magazine. "And, a dozen billiards."

"Billboards," Theron muttered.

"Those. I'll give you a month," Aphrodite replied. "Don't ever come ..."

"A month if you pick them up," I interrupted. "Two months if you want them delivered." I wasn't Ron Middleton's daughter for nothing. I'd seen him negotiate terms a hundred times.

Theron moved forward, ready to inflict bodily injury, but Aphrodite set a hand on his chest. "Delivered." She turned to her bodyguard. "When is the new moon?"

"The day after tomorrow," Theron replied.

"We don't use your calendar," Aphrodite said to me. "Your time begins the day after tomorrow. They must be delivered by the second new moon. Theron will contact you. See her out." With that dismissal she returned to the pillowed chair, where she held up the pendant and watched it sparkle in the lamplight.

We followed a conspicuous red trail back downstairs. "You'll return home?" Theron asked. "To where?"

"Bozeman, Montana. You know where that is?"

He nodded. "You have a cell phone?"

The question caught me off guard. We stood in the timeless palace of a Greek G.o.ddess, but like Eros, Theron understood modern life. "It's at the hotel."

"What's the number?"

I rattled it off, and said, "Do you want me to write it down?"

"I'll remember."

The two young men who brought me inside the palace waited in the round room murmuring to one another. At the sight of us they straightened into silence.

The older of the two looked about twenty. He stood as tall as Theron with dark hair, olive skin and full lips. I caught him looking at my hand, where the blood had already soaked the bandage bright red.

"Change clothes and return her to the mainland," Theron said to dark-haired guy.

"I left a duffle bag on the beach," I said.

Theron sent another man to fetch it, and when he returned, so had the dark-haired guy, who wore cargo shorts, a half-zip sweater and sandals. Ironically, standing between him and Theron, I looked the least mortal, except for the blood on my dress.

They led me down a hallway that descended out of the marbled halls of the palace and into rough hewn pa.s.sages within the island cliffs. Eventually we met a wide wooden door. Beyond it was a stairwell that descended into darkness. Theron threw a switch, and a single row of dim bulbs appeared to guide us down.

The young man and I entered the stairwell, and Theron closed the door behind us. The metallic clunk of the lock said there was no going back. I walked blindly for five or six steps before my eyes adjusted to the darkness. The dampness clung to my skin, and the musty air felt stale in my lungs. Still, it was easier to breathe now that a locked door separated me from Theron.

We descended about thirty steps before the stairway widened into a cave. On either side were iron bars which made cages of the lesser caves. The cages were more shadowed than lit, but on one wall hung a pair of iron shackles.

The air felt colder, and I stifled a shiver. I knew my guide was watching me.

"That's where you would have ended up if Theron decided to kill you. If you're wise, you won't cross Theron."