With: Abigail Owen
Congratulations to “Lail Chavez”, the winner in Abigail’s giveaway. Please contact JUST PARANORMAL ROMANCE to claim your prize!
What if the only reason you got your job was because you were a nymph with the ability to turn off your reaction to sexual chemistry, no matter how powerful the man? Leia got one directive when she was hired, don’t fall for her demigod billionaire boss. His only requirement for his assistant. Too bad her power doesn’t seem to work around his particular demigod.
Which made this couple a ton of fun to write! Set loosely in the dragon shifter world of my Inferno Rising and Fire’s Edge books, here’s The Demigod Complex…
“When are you going to go out with me?” Mike asked with what she was sure most women found to be a charming smile. The lawyer, while excellent at his job, was a player with a capital P. Not her style at all. It took a lot more than charm and looks to impress a nymph. Even an ex-water nymph who’d failed to protect her spring.
“Never. When are you going to stop asking?” She gave Mike a gentle push to get off her desk and came around the side to head into Castor’s office.
Mike got up but didn’t make a move to leave. “Just one little date?”
Leia crossed her arms, getting annoyed.
“Mike. Did you need something?”
The dark rumble of her boss’s voice sounded behind her, even more irritated than over the intercom. Leia spun on her heel to find Castor standing in the doorway, glowering like a bear with a thorn in its paw.
“I was dropping off the Metro paperwork for your signature.” Mike strolled to the door. “See you later, Leia.”
She nodded but otherwise didn’t pay attention to his departure. Her entire focus was on the man standing in front of her. Tall, dark, and handsome was a cliché that didn’t begin to cover the pure energy and power radiating from his lean form.
As had happened from her first day working for him, Castor’s presence pulled a visceral response from her. Why the hell can’t I turn off my body around him?
Damn the gods who’d ruined her life. She had despised them, werewolves, and anything to do with gods or their demigod offspring.
Until this one.
Somehow, Castor had snuck under all her defenses.
Just as she had every other day, Leia ruthlessly squashed her feelings, the same way she’d grind a cockroach under her stiletto heel. Even when they were for a six-foot-three, Armani-suit-wearing chiseled tower of temptation with blue eyes and a heart big enough to rescue the world, though he liked to hide it behind a scowl.
Like now. His eyes practically shot bolts of lightning as he glared at Mike’s departing back.
She stepped forward, assuming he’d move out of the way to usher her into his office. Only he didn’t, his glower softening as he turned his gaze on her.
Only that put her very much in his space, inhaling the spice of his aftershave and the fresh-air scent of his skin. The heat radiating from him penetrated both his suit and her clothes. Demigods ran hot—something about all that supernatural power coursing through their veins. When she was a young water nymph, she’d imagined it would be nice to snuggle up to one in a pond, like her own walking hot springs generator.
Instead of getting out of her way, Castor leaned forward, crowding her more. “Does Mike bother you often?”
“Did you know Marsha in acquisitions is pregnant? I assume you’ll want to arrange a shower?”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Distracting him with other topics sometimes worked. Not this time, apparently. She raised her eyebrows coolly. “Mike doesn’t bother me at all.” As opposed to the man blocking her way. She was proud her words hadn’t come out all husky and needy sounding. In control, even if she wasn’t really.
“So, you wanted him to ask you out?” Doubt colored the words.
She stared at his top button, which was undone, as was his tie, exposing the kissable hollow at the base of his neck. Dang. Now she was wondering what licking that spot might taste like.
No, she wasn’t, because she didn’t let herself think things like that about her boss. Her demigod boss. Her billionaire demigod boss who had more money than Midas, more power than he knew what to do with, and whose only requirement for his assistant was that they not bother him with things like unwanted, unreciprocated feelings.
Why were they having this conversation again? “I can handle Mike.”
He reached out and tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “So, he needs handling?”
Her skin tingled at his touch. That happened every time he touched her. Because he’s the son of Zeus…and lightning, she ruthlessly reminded herself.
Time to put a stop to this or next she’d be throwing herself into his arms. She rolled her eyes. “You can put away your cape, Superman. I don’t need saving today.”
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