IMMORTAL MATCHMAKERS, INC. (10 page)

Sadie sat staring at the waves, trying to figure out what exactly it was about the man that made him so annoyingly seductive, when she realized he hadn’t come up for air.

The surf didn’t look all that rough today, but the flags on the lifeguard towers were yellow. Some undertow.

Before permitting herself to panic, she stood and began scanning the waves and bobbing heads out beyond the break. Only a few surfers and boogie boarders paddled around.
No Andrus.

Okay. Now I’m worried
. She started jogging toward the spot where he dove in, looking for any sign of the big man.

Nothing.

Oh, hell. Just my luck. The man can’t swim.

She turned toward the lifeguard shack, but the tower was empty.
Oh my God. Oh my God.

She looked back toward the waves, completely freaking the hell out. Just then, a large wave crested and came crashing in. She caught a glimpse of a body rolling in the white water.

“Andrus! Shit!” She charged into the waves, fighting the current to get to him, but when she got to the spot, he wasn’t there.
No, no, no. Where is he?
A wave slammed into her body, knocking her over. She fought to get her head back up, twisting every which way in the water, searching for him.

Then her eyes spotted his limp form lying facedown in the shallow waves.

“Fuck!” She used her arms to jog through the water, making her way to him. “Andrus. Andrus!”

By then a few others had noticed him lying there and were rushing over.

She dropped to her knees, panting hard, and flipped him over. His beautiful face was covered in wet sand, but he didn’t look blue.

“No, dammit.” He wasn’t breathing.

She jumped on top of him and started compressions. Luckily, CPR was a class she’d had in high school—her mother’s insistence when she began babysitting her younger sister.

Sadie popped open his mouth and tilted back his head to position the tongue and gave him a puff. Then another.

She suddenly felt a soft, warm tongue slide inside her mouth, flicking against her own tongue.

What the fuc—

Two strong arms wrapped around her, simultaneously flipping her back to the sand. He kissed her hard, pinning her with half his body, holding her tight with those big bulky biceps.

Sonofabitch.
She bit down on his lip, and he pulled away.

“Ow. That hurt,” he whined.

“You dirty, horrible sonofabitch!” She pounded his shoulder with her fist. “I thought you were dead.”

He grinned devilishly. “Oops. I guess not. But I’m flattered to find that you care so much.” His lips shot toward her mouth, and she turned her head, trying to wiggle away.

“Get the hell off me!”

He let her go and began laughing with a deep, hearty chuckle. “What? I just wanted a kiss.”

She popped to her feet. “Nothing to see, everyone,” she said to the crowd who’d gathered around—all women, of course. “The asshole was just faking it.” She marched off to go get her stuff. This was ridiculous.

“Wait. Sadie,” Andrus said, catching up to her, “I was merely having a little fun. Come on…”

He made an attempt to grab her arm, and she jerked it away. “Fuck the hell off, you sick bastard.”

“Oh. Come now. You know you liked it.”

What a complete and total pig
! She swiveled on her heel. “Is this some joke to you? Is it? Because it’s not to me. I need this job. I need this money. Don’t you get that? Don’t you have any idea how hard I work just to have a chance to live my dream?”

No longer smiling, he looked down at her with those thick lashes and turquoise eyes. “Fantastic acting, my little meat wench, but I’m not buying it.”

“Buying what?” she fumed.

“We both know you’re not here to help me. But if you come clean and tell me everything, I’ll let you have a night in my bed.”

“Oh my god,” she snarled. “You really are a prick. And you sure as hell don’t deserve the chance you’re being given. Anyone I know would kill to have the opportunity for a movie role. Hell, I would kill for it. But here you are, pissing it away, which makes you an even bigger ass than I thought.”

She marched off, feeling like she actually might kill the man. Kill him. With a butter knife.

“Keep up the acting, woman! You are quite marvelous at it,” she heard him call out from a distance.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mother of all things tempting and delicious.
Zac stared at Tula’s creamy smooth calves as she bent over, watering the new plants she’d had delivered this morning.
She’ll be the death of me.

Over the last several days, she’d worn a knee-length skirt with daisies, an ankle-length dress with blue squiggly things, and some other outfit that had a high neckline. None of her outfits were tight or sexy or revealing. In fact, they covered too much. But that was what made it so hard to look away. The more prim and proper she dressed, the bigger the prize of tempting her.

“Dammit, Tula. Can’t you wear something slutty to work for once? Something that might shame your family or get you mistakenly arrested for prostitution? I can’t get any damned work done around here!”

She tilted up her watering can and slowly turned. “You feelin’ okay, Mr. Zac?”

“No,” he grumbled and shifted his eyes back down to his laptop screen.

“It’s the decorations, isn’t it? They’re irritating you,” she said, sounding disappointed.

Hell no. She’d done a great job. She’d brought in another desk and a black leather chair—a badass chair—just for him and made a little waiting area near the elevator, complete with a huge flat screen, two colorful red sofas, and some end tables. She’d even had the landlord bring in these very ingenious moveable walls to make a kitchen area with a coffee machine, fridge, and table for sitting and eating lunch. Which she did every day, innocently nibbling on whatever wholesome food she prepared while she perused wedding magazines.

The place still had a ton of empty space, but at least it felt homier, and he could catch his favorite show,
American Ninja
.

I love watching humans try to be like us gods. Very amusing.
What wasn’t amusing was her nunlike disposition and infallible moral fiber.
Gods, I just want to tie her up and lick her from head to toe until she gives in to me.

“The furnishings are fine, Tula. I simply find it difficult to concentrate when you behave so anti-seductively or wear such unsexy clothing.”

“You’re weird, Mr. Zac.” She turned and went back to watering the plants near the window in her most non-sexy way.

He groaned, adjusted his cock, and went back to his task of screening invitees for the mixer. So far, he’d approved everyone with the exception of a fucking Maaskab—holy fucking gods, was that some sort of joke? He’d have to ask Cimil later—and his brother Acan, the God of Wine and Intoxication, better known as Belch. It was a waste to have Belch attend as a guest because A) who in their right mind would want to date that drunk slob? And B) he was the best bartender on the planet. He could look right at a person and know exactly what drink to serve, even when they didn’t know themselves. He also accidentally lit a lot of shit on fire, which always made for a more interesting party
. Belch is definitely tending bar.

Zac scribbled on his notepad:
Have Tula order extra fire extinguishers for mixer.

The elevator door chimed and out stepped a gorgeous woman with soft waves of auburn hair and golden-brown eyes, wearing sweet little tiny shorts and a tight tank top showing off her plump breasts and curvy hips.

“Well, well, how may I help you today, Miss?” he said in his best and most tempting voice.

She looked around at the empty office. “Where the hell is Bob?”

“Bob? I’m not sure you—”

Cimil’s office door swung open. “Sippy, baby. Nice to see you!”

What the fuck?

Cimil wore a short brown wig, mustache, and gray plaid suit.

“Uh, Cimil,” Zac said, “why are you dressed as—”

“Shut it, Zac, or I will instruct Tula to sing church hymns every day, all day, for the next year.”

Zac snapped his mouth shut. He also wondered just exactly when Cimil had shown up. He hadn’t seen her go into the office.
So fucking weird.

“Sadie,” Cimil said in a deep, worst man-voice ever, “won’t you come into my office?”

Sadie or Sippy—whatever—marched right in and slammed the door shut. But with his super-deific hearing, he could make out almost every word:

Andrus.

Asshole.

Want him dead now.

How could you do this to me?

Bastard.

Showed his cock.

Faked drowning.

Kissed me.

Propositioned me.

Twice.

Threatened me with large knife.

Got me fired.

Hate you, Bob.

Wow.
Zac laughed.
I need to hang out with Andrus more often.

Then Cimil, in her man-voice, tried to assure the mortal that everything would be handled.

“You’d better, Bob,” the woman screeched. “Because if I don’t get paid, then neither do you.”

The door flew open and the woman stormed out toward the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

“Zac!” Cimil barked. “Get in here.”

Oh, with pleasure. And a side of rubbing it in coming right up, too!
Zac entered the office and Cimil looked genuinely bothered. That did not sit well with him. Why? Because nothing ever bothered Cimil.

“Shut the door,” she said, sitting on her desk, ripping off her fake mustache. “This isn’t working.”

“What’s not working?”

“This!” She threw up her pale boney hands. “I can’t do it. I can’t shoot straight.”

“Mind elaborating, oh crazy one?”

“Everything is going wrong. And do you know why?”

“Because you’re predisposed to destroying all life on the planet while simultaneously saving everyone?” he guessed.

“No!” Her finger shot up. “For the first time in my existence, I am being honest.”

Yeah, right. Don’t believe that for a minute, but I’ll play along.
“And?”

“It’s ruining everything! Andrus is supposed to fall in love with Charlotte, his second-chance mate, in five days. That woman Sadie—” she pointed to the door “—is supposed to show him how to be a better wooer. But now he refuses to be instructed by her because he thinks I’m deceiving him, up to my old tricks when clearly I’m not.”

“Oh. Now I see.”

“You have to talk to him, Zac. Asshole to asshole. Immortal male pig to immortal male pig. Convince him that he must listen to the actress. Convince him this is his only chance.”

“I’m not sure I’m convinced you’re telling the truth either, Cimil.”

She rolled her eyes. “Have I been nothing but honest since we came here?”

He shrugged and glanced toward the door, but his eyes were envisioning Tula’s sweet little ankles.

“Zac, she is not for you. She is the Fort Knox of vaginas. You can’t break her. You can’t seduce her. She loves another and always will.”

“Soooo, you’re trying to tell me that she’s not some attempt to make me suffer needlessly and then, after months, perhaps years of suffering, she’ll leave her fiancé and realize she wants to bed me?”

Cimil shook her head. “Nope. Never gonna happen.”

He tilted his head.

“I’m serious!” Cimil screamed, throwing her arms down at her sides. “And if you don’t believe me, go out there right now and lay it on her. Give it all you got.”

“Seriously?” Zac asked.

“Yeah.” Cimil gestured toward the door. “Be my guest.”

If Cimil was telling the truth about Tula, there was one sure way to find out.

He marched out of Cimil’s office. “Tula!”

Tula looked up from her desk nervously. “What’s the matter?”

“Come here.” He plucked her from her chair, grabbed her by the waist, pulled her in tight, and kissed her with every trick in the temptation toolbox: soft sensual lips, sinful movements of his tongue, and the warm vibrations of his body. He kissed her until he felt his energy spiking to maximum levels. Mortals and deities created a reaction, the result generally being the mortal dropping dead if exposed for too long, unless the human wore black jade—a material used to blunt a deity’s energy.

Before he fried her, he let go and dropped his hands. He stared down at the small, wholesome woman, waiting for her response.

She blinked her big blues at him and then smiled shyly. “Mr. Zac, while that was a lovely kiss, I’m afraid I’m set to marry Gilbert. And since he and I don’t swing, it’s just never gonna happen between you and me.” She shrugged. “But a big delicious god like you will find your special someone. I’m sure of it.” She poked his chest.

Damned woman
! She hadn’t even broken a sweat or moaned or…anything. Even her objection was sweet and wholesome.

He turned back toward Cimil’s office and slammed the door. “Fine. I believe you. Tula is immune to my charms.”

Of course, now he wanted her more than ever.
Ah! Gods fucking bloody hell! Now what am I going to do?
She was like the last piece of chocolate on earth. So tempting.

“Good,” Cimil said. “Now go knock some sense into Andrus so we can move on to the next client. We have to hurry before we run out of time.”

“What do you mean, ‘run out’?”

“You know,” she replied, “before you go all crazy and start killing everyone.”

What the devil?
“What are you talking about, Cimil?”

“Don’t you remember? I foresee you losing your marbles and then you go on a rampage, murdering everyone. I think it’s because you’re here too long, but I’m not sure.”

“I think,” he growled, “you forgot to mention this.”

She shrugged. “That’s weird. I coulda sworn I told you.”

“When does this happen?”

“I dunno. I keep hearing the dead scream your name, but without my powers, I can’t get a good read on what happens.”

He dropped his head. “Bloody fuck. Just great. We need to call for a meeting of the gods before that happens.”