Lame, with harsh features, brooding eyes, a wiry beard crackling with flame, and ropy muscles, the god mortals call Hephaestus is nobody's idea of perfection. Indeed, far from it. A lingering odor of burnt solder clings to him, adding to his manly stench of sweat and musk. His bed is narrow and lonely, his sheets filled with soot and regret.<br><br>Blacksmith to Olympus, he hides from his kin on an island in the Mediterranean, commissioned to forge a hero's sword from unbreakable metal. But a brief tryst with a minor water god distracts him. Aean is everything Hephaestus is not -- young, beautiful, sexy. He stirs in Hephaestus a savage lust the smith has never felt before.<br><br>Now Hephaestus wants Aean for his own, and he won't rest until the water god is his.

To Love a God

For now the clasp is open for easy access,


the twin arms of the ring catching the fatty flesh of Hephaestus’s


middle finger so they won’t accidentally snap shut before he


manages to place it onto Aean. He will have to be quick, he knows.


If the water god even suspects the smithy has such a contraption,


Aean will evaporate before Hephaestus can claim him. But it’s been


too long. His work will not have been in vain.


Carefully Hephaestus hangs his asbestos apron


on a hook just outside his forge. He unbuckles his brace and leaves


it propped against the wall so he won’t have to fuss with it once


he’s reached the pond. Then he tucks his walking stick under his


arm and keeps his eyes fixed on the end of the tunnel as he heads


Every hair on his body stands at attention,


every nerve alert. The sound of his blood fills his ears, and his


heart beats in his chest with an unusual flutter that distracts


Chapter 9