Zeus (Contemporary Mythos Book 6)

His emotions were a tidal wave repeatedly hurling me against other incoming waves. It took everything in me not to show the turmoil surging through me on my face. Since I was a child, I’d had my empath ability and experienced all levels of emotion from hundreds of people. His were the most intense I’d ever felt—burdened, arrogant, powerful. Very powerful, but most of all? Insatiable lust. In the passing minutes, it’d become so overwhelming I couldn’t sift through his emotions versus my own.

The bastard refused to sit down—no doubt a power play against me. I undid the top button of my blouse, touching my fingertip against my skin before doing it up again—a habit I’d formed to calm myself. It pissed me off to no end that the man was undoubtedly attractive as well. I’d done my best to avoid lingering on news stations talking about him. It was bad enough spying him across the street from the safety of my apartment window. But now those sapphire eyes I’d glimpsed only on a TV screen lingered in front of me—probing me, seducing me.

Slapping my palms on the table, I shot to my feet. “Mr. Vronti, I’m not entirely certain where you get off talking to me in such a manner. It’s entirely unprofessional, but furthermore, you want half of the recordings dismissed?” I tightened my jaw, not letting my eyes tear away despite the lust pouring out of him in droves. The devious glint in his gaze had my insides twisting. “Fine. We have plenty of other ammunition.”

In truth, I did not want him to request anything dismissed. His requesting dismissal of evidence would have to be brought up before a judge, further postponing the trial.

Irritation and confusion bubbled over him but were soon overshadowed by determination, which dissolved them in the thick air hanging between us.

A jackal’s grin pulled at the corner of his lips. He crossed the room with deliberate steps, his serpentine gaze fixed on me. “You know how this works, Keira.” He stood in front of me, scents of sandalwood and cologne permeating the air. “You’re required to reveal all the dirty laundry at your disposal.” He bit on his lower lip, eyes squinting.

Standing this close to him had my brain whirling while simultaneously making the hairs on my arms stand on end. Rather than peel my eyes away, suggesting he had some form of power over me, I distanced us by taking a step back.

Olivia tugged the hem of my jacket.

Thankful for the reprieve, I bent at the waist, lowering my ear to her mouth.

“I think my undies melted,” she whispered…very loudly.

I loved Olivia. Really, I did. But her filter was Swiss cheese on the best of days.

My eyes snapped to Zane’s satisfied smile.

“I have that effect on most women, Olivia.” His gaze roamed my body before lazily lifting back to my face. “Don’t hate yourself for it.”

Squaring off my shoulders, refusing to let him see the effect he could have on me, I slid the folder across the table. “And you know how this works, counselor. You can review with prosecution present.”

His eyes dropped to the folder, a challenging smirk creasing his mouth. As he slid a large tanned hand over the manila, his pinky brushed the tip of my finger. The same mild static shock I’d felt when he shook my hand earlier shot through my skin. My right nostril bounced, and I ignored the tingling sensation his touch left behind as he scooped the folder into his grasp and started to flip through the papers.

He waltzed around the room with a pinched brow, squinting here and there as he sifted through the evidence files. Hiding my hand beneath the table, I tapped it on my knee, suppressing an annoyed sigh. Zane started to hum a song, his tone deep—baritone. It sounded familiar, but I didn’t want to focus on his voice enough to decipher it.

Olivia leaned over. “Is he singing Acca Dacca?” She poked my ribs, her large green eyes even larger as she stared at the criminal defense lawyer circling us.

We really needed to discuss proper whispering decibels.

“Why, yes, I am. Thunderstruck by AC/DC for some reason always helps me concentrate.” He paused and shot his gaze to mine, impaling me with it. “You know?”

“Whatever speeds this up. I’ll even play it on my phone if it means spending less time in a six-by-six room with you.” I slipped my phone from my jacket pocket and rested it on the table with a smug grin.

“Not a fan of my serenading?” He leaned on the table across from me.

Pulling up a streaming service, I queued up the song. “Why settle for second best?” I pressed the play button, keeping a challenging stare fixed on him.

The opening guitar riff to Thunderstruck blared from my phone’s speaker. Olivia scrunched her face and threw up rock horns on both hands.

A wicked glint flashed in his eyes, a hint of a smile hiding over his lips. His emotions shifted—intrigued, more irritated. But the lust? Amplified.

I just. Didn’t. Get it.

Leaning back in my chair, I folded my arms and held my hand out to him. “Please continue.”

The tip of his tongue skirted his bottom lip before he finally lowered his gaze back to the papers and began his proximity march again. At my side, Olivia switched from the air guitar to drums, her blonde bangs falling over her eyes.

Slowly turning my head, I cocked an eyebrow at her.

Out of breath, she froze mid drumstick twirl and tousled her hair. “Too much?”

“Maybe a tad.” I gestured my hand up high and lowered it, asking her to bring it down a notch.

“Right.” She cleared her throat and tugged on the hem of her jacket. “Serious mode.”

Despite her best efforts, she sat still for the most part, but her foot kept tapping. She’d fist pump under the table during specific lyrics and attempt to subtly lip sync.

I bit back a smile. Olivia could be such a goofball, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Her presence alone helped me cope every day.

There was a knock at the door, and I quickly shut the music off. Zane glared at the door with one hand rubbing his chin.

“Mr. Vronti? Sorry to bother you, but your three o’clock appointment is here,” Ruth said, pausing with her hand on the door handle and adjusting her glasses.

“I still have work to do here.” Zane’s tone was abrupt. Turning his back to her, he returned to the paperwork.

“But sir, it’s your br—”

Zane snapped her a look over his shoulder, and flipped the folder shut with a loud thwap.

“Right. I’ll let them know you’ll be late,” Ruth squeaked before closing the door behind her.

Impatience. Ever-growing irritation.

“There isn’t any reason to drag this out, Zane. Everything is there for you in black and white. Either request a hearing on the evidence with a judge or let me get back to work.” Scooting to the edge of my seat, I folded my hands on the table.

Zane opened the folder and dropped his gaze to the papers. “Such impatience for a woman’s life hanging in the balance.”

“Don’t try to act as if you care about the client. You care about winning.” I narrowed my eyes at him, and crossed my legs under the table to ignore the throbbing happening between them.

Lust. Anger. Desire.

“Regardless of your preconceived notions, for once, it isn’t about me, Keira.” He tossed the folder on the table and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Are you trying to imply you inexplicably grew a conscience?” I panned my gaze to the awaiting folder.

“Fine. I’m formally requesting a hearing on the evidence before a judge.”

Heat surged up the back of my neck, molars cracking as I gritted my teeth. Olivia sighed beside me, jotting down notes on a legal pad.

He jiggled keys in his pocket, his jaw tightening. “Are we done here?” Glancing at his watch, he started for the door. “I have more important things to do.”

My jaw wanted to drop, but I forced it to stay put and, instead, squeezed the life out of the pen in my hand. “But you—” I cut myself short once his brow raised to the heavens.

This guy was one colossal mind fuck. And he knew it.

Standing, I shoved the folder under my arm and stormed at the exit with my chin held high.

“Looks like I’ll be seeing you soon for the evidence trial—” His gaze lowered, lingering over my chest. “Counselor.”

Impatience. Smugness. Attraction.

He made no move to shake my hand, so I gave a simple nod. “May the best man win.”

A chuckle—low and smooth—flowed from his chest. The sound vibrated to my toes, making my lips part as if they had a mind of their own.

His eyes dropped to my mouth before turning away, not muttering another word.

The further he got away from me, the more relaxed my mind, my nerves, my everything became. Rubbing my forehead, I leaned against the doorframe, exhausted as if I’d just run a marathon—twice.

“You okay?” Olivia nudged me.

“Yeah. Tired is all. I think I’m going to head home.” I caught sight of Zane disappearing into another meeting room down the hall and sighed with relief.

“Woah. Home? And at half-past three in the arvo?” Olivia slapped a hand on my forehead.

Used to Ollie’s antics by now, I let her palm my face. “Ollie. What are you doing?”

“Checking for a fever. Pretty sure this hasn’t happened since the Fueller case.”

She wasn’t wrong. On any given day, I’d barricade myself in my office and pour myself into my work until the wee hours of the night. Sometimes even well into the early morning. After the overwhelming emotions exuding from Zane like a damn geyser, however, the only thing my mind would excel at currently would be absolutely nothing.

“I’m tired.” Removing her hand, I pushed past her, heading down the hall. “I want my bed, a fluffy blanket, and Barns Courtney music. Tomorrow, I’ll be good as new.”

“Holy shit. Does this mean I have an early day?” Clapping, Olivia bounced on her heels.

“Knock yourself out. You’ve earned it.” I whisked through the foyer to the sidewalk outside, grimacing at the flood of emotions hammering my brain from every corner.

“Catch you later, Keir-Keir.” Olivia held her fist up.

With a weak smile, I bumped mine against hers. “Blonde Bulldogs, out,” she shouted, fanning her hand out before turning away and almost barreling into a businessman briskly walking.

He sneered at her, and Olivia threw her arms at her sides.

“What? It’s a thing we do, alright?” Olivia said to the man’s back, who made an active effort to ignore her.

My smile faded into a wince as bouts of anxiety, anger, fear, and worry flooded me from New York’s inhabitants.

Was no one happy anymore?

Yanking earbuds from my briefcase, I slipped them in to cue up music. With any luck, it’d drown out most if not all of the emotions running rampant in the streets. Tonight (I’m Lovin’ You) by Enrique Iglesias blasted into my ears. Concentrating on the beat, the feel of the concrete beneath my heels, and the bitter cold crispness in the air, dulled the floating feelings around me.

Stopping for a red light at the next crosswalk, I patted my hand against my hip, continuing the rhythmic distraction. I swiveled my hips ever so slightly, unable to control them. Lust washed over me in waves—a faint whimper collecting at the back of my throat. I opted for the explicit version of the song where “fuck” replaced the word “love.” Because let’s be honest, everyone knew what was really going down in that song. Pure. Carnal. Fu—

“Come here often?” A deep voice rumbled by my ear.

Jumping, I ripped out an earbud and whirled around.

Zane towered over me, sporting a long tan Burberry jacket with the collar popped. “Nice moves, by the way.” He pointed at my hips.

“Are you stalking me?” In a huff, I shoved my earbuds into my jacket pocket.

“Someone thinks rather highly of themselves.” He bobbed his brows at the illuminated walk sign.

With quick steps, I crossed the street.

Hopefully, he changed directions.

One glance over my shoulder made it abundantly clear. He still followed me.

“For your information—” Zane started, falling in stride beside me. “I live three blocks down.”

You knew that, Keira.

“And you’re walking there?” I slipped my gloves on.

“Why is that so hard for you to believe? You’re doing the exact same thing right now.”

The lust floating from him was like every man combined at a party in the Playboy mansion. My stomach did an unsettling flutter.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I ignored it, slipped the strap of my briefcase over one shoulder, and wrapped my arms around myself. “I have my reasons.”

A woman with bouncing waves of auburn hair walked past us, plastering a sultry grin at Zane. She waved at him, and I caught a glimpse of him grinning like a fool at her. Rolling my eyes, I shoved my gloved hands into my pockets as we reached another stop light.

“I’m dying to know said reasons.” Zane took a step closer to me.

Heat radiated from him like magma, and I fought every compulsion to wrap him around me like a blanket.

“I said I have them. Not that I was going to tell you what they were.” My hot breath curled in the cool air like an angered dragon.

“Keira, Keira, Keira. Just because we’re opposing counsel doesn’t mean we can’t be—” He bent forward, lowering his face to my level. “Friends.” A spark ignited in his gaze.

The walk signal blazed, and I bolted forward. “No, Zane. That’s precisely what it means. We’ll say our arguments in the courtroom, I’ll win, and after it’s all over, hopefully, we’ll never see each other again.”

We neared our apartment buildings and Zane came to a pause, shaking his head at me but grinning. “Your confidence is astounding.”

“And your ego is nauseating.”

We locked gazes, and an electric current sizzled down my spine. I held back a breath that longed to escape my throat, my chest tightening.

“Okay, then. See you around.” Peeling my eyes away from him, I turned to my building.

“Wait a minute. You live here?” He pointed a leather-covered hand and tipped his head to one side.

“Uh-huh. Have a good day.” I wrapped my hand around the door’s handle.

“Wait.” He slapped a hand near mine but made no move to touch me. “There is absolutely no way I wouldn’t have noticed you lived across from me for—how long have you been here?”

Grinding my teeth, I took a step back. “It’s none of your business how long I’ve lived here, but if you must know, it’s because I’m rarely home.”

“You’re a workaholic, aren’t you?” He crossed his arms, a gleam in his sapphire eyes.

“Don’t lawyers have to be?” I tightened my grip on the briefcase.

“Good ones, sure. But even dedicated lawyers have to come up for air, don’t they?” He squinted at me.

Uncertainty. Longing. Frustration. It all fluttered from him, settling over my skin like static cling.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about bumping into me. I practically live in my office.” I scratched the back of my head, averting my gaze to a woman sitting at her window three floors up, reading a book.

“Do you do everything in your office?”

Gone were the real emotions—and back was the insatiable lust.

Snapping my gaze to his, I moved past him for the door handle. “Goodbye, Zane.”

Stepping away from the door with a chuckle, he flew his palms up. “I’ll be sure to leave my blinds open for you.”

My insides clenched at the implication, my gloves creaking against the door as I gripped it. “Why the hell would you do that?”

He backed away with his hands in his pockets, his jacket flapping as he shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” Smiling, he winked at me, that same spark flashing in his gaze.

I bolted inside without another word, another passing thought, or another betraying flip of my stomach. Zane played a game, unaware that I had an ace up my sleeve. There he was grinning at me from across the poker table with the four of a kind in his hands, waiting to lay the cards out and win. He didn’t know being an empath gave me a royal fucking flush.