3. Laramie

CHAPTER THREE

LARAMIE

T he scalding water cascaded over my shoulders, but even the heat couldn’t wash away the mortification of last night. I leaned my forehead against the cool tile, replaying every cringe-worthy moment on a loop.

Making an ass of myself in front of my boss. Getting pasta sauce dumped down my front. Having cameras shoved in my face.

At least I’d managed to escape before the siren extravaganza or whatever it was called, citing jet lag. In reality, I just needed to flee before I spontaneously combusted from embarrassment.

I shut off the water with more force than necessary and wrapped myself in a plush towel. The bathroom mirror had steamed over, leaving my reflection a blurry mess. Fitting, really.

What the hell was I going to do? I had to work with the man. Had to convince him I was a competent professional and not some clumsy idiot with anger management issues unable to be trusted around fruit.

A sharp knock at the door jolted me from my spiraling thoughts.

“Just a minute!” I called, scrambling for the complimentary bathrobe. I cinched it tight, nearly braining myself on the marble countertop in my rush out of the bathroom.

I cracked open the door, revealing a young woman in resort livery. She held out a crisp white shirt on a hanger and a small wicker basket. “Compliments of Mr. Mavridis, ma’am.”

I blinked, confused. “I... um, thank you.”

Oh. Shit.

I accepted the items, muttering another thank you as I kicked the door shut with my foot. I held up the shirt. It wasn’t an exact match for my ruined blouse, but it was close enough. And definitely designer.

The basket smelled utterly divine. I flipped the lid to find an assortment of freshly baked pastries and savory rolls stuffed with herbs and cheese. My stomach rumbled appreciatively.

A folded note rested on top. I popped a biscuit into my mouth and reached for it, noting the bold, masculine scrawl.

Ammunition.

That’s all it said. One word.

I barked out a laugh, equal parts surprised and relieved. It seemed the big bad minotaur had a sense of humor after all.

And, apparently, the ability to make peace offerings.

I’d seen Kotos Mavridis in interviews. Watched him charm talk show hosts and dazzle tech conferences. But that public persona was a far cry from the man who’d threatened to have me thrown out. I didn’t know how to reconcile the note-and-favors with the fury in those dark eyes as he’d snarled up at me.

Who was the real Kotos? The suave businessman? The snarling beast?

And why the hell did I care?

I shoved another biscuit in my mouth. It didn’t matter. He was my boss, nothing more. And orders were orders.

I grimaced and pulled up the resort’s app on my phone. Andreas had graciously rescheduled the partnership meeting until the following day to give us time to check out the amenities. Most of them made me want to gag. Gingerbread house decorating with wood nymphs? Hard pass. Reindeer-themed mini golf? I’d rather eat glass.

But there, nestled between “Santa’s Workshop Spa” and “Elf Aerobics,” was something that caught my eye. “Magical Skiff Excursion.”

Perfect. A nice, quiet boat ride. Maybe I’d even get some work done while enjoying the scenery.

Twenty minutes later, clad in what I hoped would be good boat wear, I made my way down to the docks. The salty breeze tugged at my hair, carrying the scent of the sea. For the first time since I’d arrived, I felt myself start to relax.

Then I rounded the corner, and my steps faltered.

There, leaning against a post with casual grace, was Kotos fucking Mavridis.

He stood there looking unfairly gorgeous in shorts and an open shirt. Muscles rippled with each movement, broad chest tapering to trim hips. The sea breeze tousled his dark curls, and those curved horns gleamed in the morning sun.

Not to mention his thighs. Bigger than my head.

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. Forget pastries. His whole body was an offering fit for the gods.

His wide, flat nose gave a twitch right before his attention snapped to me. Deep brown eyes met mine, swirling with some unreadable emotion.

Heat flooded my cheeks as I became acutely aware of my attire—or lack thereof. A skimpy bikini top and shorts that may as well have been the bikini bottoms were practically required garb for island resorts, but within two miles of your boss?

I fought the urge to cross my arms over my chest.

“Ms. Scanlon.” His low rumble slid over me, igniting a wave of goosebumps. “What a... pleasant surprise.”

I tore my gaze away, pretending to watch the waves. Anything to distract me from the way his muscles flexed with each step. He certainly had no problem with flaunting. “Mr. Mavridis. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Great minds, it seems.” His lips quirked in what might have been a smile. “And call me Kotos, please.”

That was not happening. There needed to be boundaries. Professionalism. And I’d use old-fashioned etiquette on familiarity as a shield while we both showed more skin than covered.

An awkward silence fell between us. I shifted my weight, far too aware of every move I made. Why did he have to look so damn good? It was distracting.

Kotos cleared his throat. “Well, since we’re both here... Perhaps we could use this time to strategize for our meeting with Andreas. That is, if you don’t object to sharing a skiff?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. “Is that really appropriate? You are my boss, after all.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, but the corners of his mouth fought to stay still. “I could just order you to use the amenities.”

“And I can report you to HR,” I shot back.

A full-blown smirk showed a flash of fang. “I am HR, Ms. Scanlon.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but Kotos held up a hand. He ran it down his face, taking a deep breath. When he spoke again, his tone was softer.

“Look, I wouldn’t have asked for you specifically if I didn’t think you were up to the task. Your work speaks for itself.”

He’d asked for me? Specifically? My chest tightened at the unexpected praise.

“Thank you,” I said softly. Then, deciding to extend my own olive branch, I added, “And thank you for this morning’s delivery. The pastries were delicious.”

The sudden sound of wood scraping the dock drew our attention. An empty skiff bobbed to a stop beside us, its polished hull gleaming in the morning light. Patterns of gold filigree curled across the sides, weaving through elegant carvings of mythological beasts.

I frowned. “Where’s the captain?”

Kotos shrugged, his massive shoulders rolling with the movement. “I believe it’s enchanted. Self-guided.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “I guess we’re supposed to just... get in?”

Kotos chuckled, a deep rumble that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. “It appears so. Shall we?”

He held out a hand to help me aboard. I hesitated only briefly before slipping my palm into his. I gingerly stepped onto the skiff, trying not to notice how tiny my hand felt in his enormous grasp.

Kotos followed, his larger frame causing the skiff to dip dangerously low in the water. I held my breath, half-expecting us to capsize before we even left the dock. But the magic seemed to compensate, and we settled into an uneasy equilibrium.

The close quarters of the skiff made it impossible to ignore Kotos’ presence. His scent wrapped around me—a heady mix of sandalwood and something distinctly male . Heat radiated from his body, and I found myself transfixed by every shift, every breath.

Dammit. This was not good.

As soon as he’d arranged his long legs, the skiff lurched away from the dock. I yelped in surprise, gripping the railing for support. Magic carried us away from shore, slicing effortlessly through the waves.

My apprehension disappeared completely as we left the entire cove behind. “Oh, wow.”

The water glowed an impossible shade of turquoise, so clear I could see fish darting beneath the surface. Lush greenery clung to rocky cliffs, punctuated by hidden coves and secluded beaches.

And was that... yes, a group of honest-to-god mermaids sunning themselves on what looked like the partially submerged ruins of an ancient temple.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, momentarily forgetting my discomfort. Magical in the truest sense of the word.

“It is,” Kotos agreed softly.

When I glanced back, I found him watching me instead of the scenery. Something glinted in those dark depths, too fast and fleeting to decipher.

I focused on the shoreline, desperate for any distraction from the living furnace beside me. “So, um, any thoughts on how to approach Andreas about the partnership?”

Kotos’ deep chuckle washed over me. “Straight to business, Ms. Scanlon? And here I thought we were ordered to experience paradise first.”

I turned to tell him exactly where he could shove paradise, but the words died in my throat. Kotos lounged against the side of the skiff, one muscular arm draped casually over the edge. Sea spray misted his bronzed skin and sunlight glinted off a medallion resting against his exposed chest.

I swallowed hard. “Well, some of us take our jobs seriously, Mr. Mavridis.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I wondered if I’d gone too far. Then his lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Oh, I assure you, Ms. Scanlon. I take many things very seriously.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I refused to break eye contact. The air between us crackled with tension. My pulse raced, blood pounding in my ears. I struggled to keep my breathing even, keenly aware of how close we were.

The skiff rounded a bend, sending a fresh wave of spray over us. The cold shock broke the spell. I let out a shaky breath, turning away from that searing gaze.

Fuck. What was I doing? Flirting with my boss? Yes, he was gorgeous. And sure, maybe I hadn’t had sex in over a year. But that was no excuse. I had to focus on my career. Not tank it.

“I reviewed the initial marketing proposals on the trip over here.” I kept my tone brisk and professional. No sense tempting fate. “If I may make a suggestion...?”

Kotos cocked an eyebrow, but otherwise looked unfazed. “By all means. That’s why you’re here.”

“They’re fairly standard campaigns with a focus on the resort or the area. ‘Live like a god’ with all the hedonistic trappings that implies.”

“And that’s a bad thing because...”

“It’s expected.” I rolled my eyes. “A predictable pitch that every other hotel has tried. But MythMatch isn’t every other dating app. Lean into it. Show sirens seducing the user into visiting. Satyrs dancing the night away around beach bonfires. Connect local romantic legends to our pitch so they can live like gods... in love.”

Kotos nodded, his expression growing thoughtful. “Not bad. I suspect Andreas will eat up the cultural aspects. He’s very proud of Elysia’s connection to Greek mythology.”

“Though,” I mused, nose wrinkling, “an underworld abduction might not resonate with our user base.”

“No,” he answered with an irritated shake of his head. “That’s something Shadow Daddies would feature.”

The air around him soured, and we lapsed into silence, save for the steady rhythm of the waves splashing against the hull and the occasional cry of a seabird.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned his biggest competition. Clearly, the company hit a nerve. Which, honestly, didn’t surprise me. Dating apps were a cutthroat industry. I’d worked in marketing for years, and watched rival companies devour each other in search of any advantage.

Something told me the situation was different here. Kotos wasn’t merely competing with Shadow Daddies. There was history. Bad blood. Something personal.

A splash beside the boat caught my attention. I leaned over and gasped in delight as I spotted a group of nymphs frolicking in our wake. They waved, giggling and darting through the surf.

One of them, a redhead with eyes like polished amber, blew us a saucy kiss. “Come play with us! The water’s fine!”

“Show-offs,” Kotos chuckled, but there was fondness in his tone.

I turned back to him, grinning. “Do you know them?”

He shrugged. “I know of them. Elysia’s nymphs are rather infamous for their antics.”

As if to prove his point, another nymph—this one with hair like spun silver—sent a wave cascading for us both. I squealed at the sudden shower, hastily brushing water from my eyes.

And then... Kotos laughed.

Not a polite chuckle or condescending smirk. A full-bodied, genuine laugh that lit up his entire face. The sound was rich and warm, wrapping around me like a caress.

I found myself joining in, the ridiculousness of the situation finally hitting me. Here I was, on a magical boat ride with my stupidly attractive boss, being accosted by creatures straight out of a storybook. If someone had told me this is where I’d end up a week ago, I would’ve laughed in their face.

It was absurd. Completely ludicrous.

And kind of wonderful.

The nymphs joined in, splashing and doing elaborate backflips. Two dove deep and returned with conch shells, blowing spouts of water high into the air. Another balanced precariously on her companions’ hands, spinning like a ballerina.

As our laughter faded, I caught Kotos watching me with an odd expression. “What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Nothing. It’s just... nice to see you relaxed.”

I sat back, mulling over his words. Had I really been that tense?

Before I could find the appropriate denials, a shadow fell over our skiff. I glanced up, surprised at the arch of stone looming over the water. We sailed into a hidden lagoon dripping with vegetation and framed by sheer cliffs. A waterfall tumbled from the rocks above, adding to the spray as the skiff slipped deeper into a cavern.

“Are these ruins?” I asked, blinking to adjust to the dimmer light.

But as we drew closer, my amusement faded.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.

The cave walls, once adorned with scenes from Greek mythology, had been... updated. Tinsel and twinkling lights framed the carvings. A rather risqué depiction of Zeus had been given a Santa hat. And was that... Rudolph replacing Pegasus?

Kotos raised a thick eyebrow. “Not a fan of holiday cheer, Ms. Scanlon?”

I sighed, suddenly exhausted. “Let’s just say Christmas and I aren’t on speaking terms.”

The only illumination now came from the tacky decorations. Soft holiday music drifted from hidden speakers, and I had to resist the urge to cover my ears.

He studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Bad memories?”

I hesitated, weighing how much to reveal. Fuck it. Maybe if I explained, he’d give me cover to avoid Andreas’ demanding hospitality.

“My ex-fiancé proposed on Christmas Eve last year,” I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the passing rock formations. “I caught him cheating with the ‘don’t worry, we’re just friends’ coworker on New Year’s.”

Kotos winced. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” I forced a laugh, but it came out bitter. “So, forgive me if I’m not feeling particularly festive this year.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, so softly I almost missed it: “I’m sorry. He is an absolute fool.”

The skiff emerged from the cave, sunlight washing over us in a golden flood. I blinked rapidly, telling myself it was just the brightness making my eyes water. Nothing to do with Kotos’ unexpected kindness or the memories his words had stirred. Nope. Just the sun.

A flash of red in the water caught my eye. The redheaded nymph who’d invited us to swim darted past, grin visible just beneath the surface. Before I could even open my mouth to point her out to Kotos, the skiff lurched as if struck from below.

I yelped, losing my balance.

Suddenly, Kotos’ large hands were on my waist. Warm fingers grazed the bare skin of my abdomen. His grip tightened, steadying me. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. I took a shaky breath and forced myself to lift my eyes.

His face was mere inches from mine. I could see flecks of gold in his dark eyes, count each individual eyelash. His breath fanned warm across my cheeks, smelling faintly of cinnamon.

I needed to step back. Needed to thank him for catching me and put miles of distance between us. I needed to remember he was my fucking boss, and this was wildly inappropriate.

I did none of those things.

Instead, Kotos’ grip tightened. One large hand slid up my back to cut the nape of my neck. My eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in.

The first brush of his lips against mine was surprisingly gentle. Hesitant, even. Like he was giving me a chance to pull away.

Fat chance of that.

I surged forward, deepening the kiss. Kotos growled—actually growled —and suddenly there was nothing gentle about it. His tongue swept into my mouth, claiming and demanding. I met him stroke for stroke, my fingers tangling in his damp curls.

He tasted like salt and sunlight and something wild I couldn’t quite name. I pressed closer, desperate for more. One of Kotos’ hands slid lower, cupping my ass and grinding me against him.

I gasped at the feeling of his hardness pressed against my stomach. Holy shit, he was huge . A jolt of arousal shot through me, and I couldn’t stop the needy whimper that escaped my throat.

He groaned, his calloused palms skimming over my ribs. I arched into his touch, silently begging for more.

Just as his thumb brushed the underside of my breast, the revs of engines jerked us back to reality.

A group of tourists on jet skis zoomed past, hooting and howling as they passed. A few even flashed thumbs up and whistled.

I scrambled off Kotos’ lap, nearly tipping us both into the water in my haste. My cheeks burned as I smoothed down my rumpled clothes, unable to meet his eyes.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. How could I have been so stupid? This was my boss. The arbitrator of my career. Not someone I should be drooling over. Not someone who should be drooling over me.

Not only that, but he was Kotos fucking Mavridis. The last minotaur alive. Tech mogul. Tabloid fodder and fantasy fuel for half the population.

And I was Laramie Scanlon, not good enough to hold her fiancé’s attention for a whole week.

Kotos cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We should?—”

“—get back.” I finished, nodding quickly. “Yes. Absolutely. Good idea.”

Thankfully, the skiff had decided we were done anyway, and the dock loomed into view. I leapt onto it, stumbling only slightly. Without a second glance at Kotos, I hurried up the path and back towards my room.

I had to get away from him. As far away as possible. Because every time I looked at him, every time he so much as breathed, I remembered the heat of his mouth against mine and wanted nothing more than to finish what we’d started.

Which was absolutely, positively out of the question.