Page 26 of Desired By Eros

“Eros?”

Glancing up from the bottom of the steps, he flashed her a smile. “You’re on time.” Of course.

“Yes.” That cute little nose wrinkled. “But what are you doing here?”

“I said we’d see everyone at dinner, didn’t I?” His gaze roamed over her outfit—a green cotton sundress that hugged her luscious curves. “You look nice.” It was the first time he’d seen her in anything other than athleisure wear. “You should wear more dresses like that.”

“This is the only dress I have here that doesn’t irritate my skin. We should get going. We don’t want to be late.” Brushing past him, she marched ahead.

He caught up with her and matched her stride. “So, how long are your sisters here?”

“Just until tomorrow afternoon, then they need to catch a flight back to Vancouver. They’re staying at the Alpha’s house.”

“Why didn’t your father or mother come and visit?”

“They’re busy running the pack and, of course, the business.”

“What business?”

“My father owns the largest seafood import and export business on the Western Seaboard.”

“Wait.” Stopping, he turned to her. “So, you’re likerich?”

“I guess? But it’s not like that. I don’t work for the business, so I don’t just get money from them. Agnes and our brothers Theo and Perseus work for Dad, so they’ll be taking over some day.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “But I bet you have a trust fund?”

“From my grandfather, yes.” Her eyes shifted around. “But I don’t need it, so I don’t use it. Can we go now? We have about eight minutes before dinner starts.”

His eyes followed her as she soldiered ahead, her pace picking up. Just when he thought he figured her out, there were more facets to her to discover. Most wealthy mortals lived leisurely lives or did art or charity work, yet she pursued an academic career, camped in rough conditions and dug in the dirt. But why?

Seeing as she was already far ahead of him, he pushed those thoughts aside and caught up to her. By the time they got to the Alpha’s front door, she was huffing and her face was red.

“Take a deep breath, Psyche,” he said.

“I hate being late.” Her fingers drummed on her thighs absently.

“I know. And I’m sorry for delaying you with my questions.”

She blinked. “You are?”

“Yes.” He retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and reached out toward her temple, which was covered with a light sheen of sweat. When she shrank away, he dropped his hand to his side. It just occurred to him that all the other times he’d touched her had been either through necessity or she had initiated, like in the tent last night. “I’m sorry,” he began. “I shouldn’t have tried to do that.”

“N-no, no. It’s not that.” She nodded at the handkerchief. “What fabric is that?”

Oh.That’s what bothered her. “This is pure linen, no synthetics mixed in. So, may I…?”

“Y-yes.”

Taking a step closer to her, he pressed the cloth to her temple and brow before patting down her cheek. “There you go.” Even now and this close, he still couldn’t figure out if her eyes were brown or green. Sometimes, they were more green, like when her eyes lit up as she spoke about her beloved dinosaurs. Other times, they were a dark, stormy brown when she was annoyed—mostly at him.

It was a mystery that he could never figure out.

“Eros?”

“Hmm?”

“My forehead’s pretty dry now.”

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