Goddess of Light by P. C. Cast

buffoon was unlikely to romance anyone, and he must romance her to grant her desire and to break the bond her invocation had forged. In the back of his mind a thought whispered that there was much more to this than the completion of an invocation—that he wanted her to take him seriously for an entirely different reason. The thought was strangely intriguing.
    What was he going to do about it?
    Then his eyes widened. The answer to his dilemma surrounded him.
    â€œI will simply purchase the correct clothing,” he said.
    Pamela’s lips quirked up in a surprised smile. “Just like that?”
    â€œOf course! Are we not surrounded by shops?”
    She raised her brows and nodded. “We are, indeed.”
    He stood, and then he realized he needed to do something he had never before had to do. Until that moment the God of Light had never had to ask a woman—mortal or immortal—to wait for him. Gently, he touched the back of her hand again. “I will not be long. Will you wait?”
    Pamela took her time considering. A naughty smile played at the corner of her well-shaped mouth. She ran one finger around the rim of her crystal wineglass while her eyes met his.
    â€œI suppose I could wait. For a little while.”
    He smiled, took a couple of steps, stopped, frowned and returned to the table.
    â€œWhich shop would you suggest?” he asked in a low voice.
    â€œWell,” she said, dropping her voice to match his. “It’s lucky for you that I am a shopping expert. I have instant recall when it comes to couture.” She squinted her eyes, considering. “I remember an Armani’s just around the corner there.” She pointed to her right.
    â€œThen I go to Armani.” He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. “Αντíο, γλυκιá Pamela,” he spoke the ancient language against her skin. Then he turned and strode away around the corner.
    As soon as he was gone, she bolted for the ladies’ room and quick-dialed V.
    â€œPlease tell me that you’re calling because you just won the million dollar jackpot,” V said instead of hello.
    â€œOh my God! I think I have, but I’m not talking about money.”
    â€œGet out of town! You actually sound giddy. Wait, let me sit down. If you tell me you’re speaking to a man, I may faint.”
    â€œI’m not speaking, I’m flirting . . .” Pamela breathed the word like a prayer, and then she dissolved into giggles that ended in a snort.
    â€œYou’re drunk,” V said.
    â€œI am not. I’m tipsy.”
    â€œOh, good God.”
    â€œThat’s exactly what he looks like. V, you wouldn’t believe it! I was wiping up the spilled wine, well, then I cut my finger. Which hurt like hell, by the way. And I even said it. Admitted it out loud. I want romance in my life. ” She enunciated the words slowly and distinctly before gushing on. “And then there he was. He’s dressed in some kind of Greek god costume, but that’s because of his sister. You know, like Richard and the Star-Belly Sneetch. Anyway, we’ve been talking, and as soon as he buys new clothes we’re—are you ready?—going for a walk .”
    â€œUh, Pammy,” V said. “Where are you right now?”
    â€œIn the ladies’ room.”
    â€œAnd where is he?”
    â€œBuying new clothes.”
    â€œOkay. Listen to me. Sober up. He might be a freak,” V said.
    â€œHe’s not a freak. He’s a singing doctor.”
    â€œHas lack of sex completely deteriorated your brain? You’re talking like a crazy woman.” V wanted to reach through the phone and shake her.
    â€œIt’s not as weird as it sounds,” Pamela said, chewing at her bottom lip. “V, I like him. He makes me feel again. And . . . and I have some kind of connection with him. I know it sounds crazy, but there’s a spark between us. It’s