I had a feeling that if I didn’t leave Seth’s room and was there when he returned, I’d never leave. That didn’t sound like such a bad idea, but there was still so much to be done.

My mind just wasn’t on those things, and maybe that made me a bad demigod, but whatever. The last fifteen or so hours had been . . . life-changing in the most amazing way. Maybe I was being silly and girlish, but what-the-fuck-ever. Yeah. What-the-fuck-ever. Love and living were just as important as fighting and surviving, and being girly equaled being awesome, so . . .

Glancing down at the marbleized floor, I bit down on my lip, but it didn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. Last night and this morning, and then again, before I left had been absolutely . . . oh gosh . . . mind-blowing, and I had really been missing out on the whole sex thing.

Wow.

Though I was glad Seth had been my first, and he would be my last. There was no doubt in my mind.

I crossed into row number two of the stacks, feeling flushed as I thought about what Seth and I had done. Warmth seeped through my skin and traveled through my veins. He was insatiable, and I was totally down with that.

But as great and awesome and fantastic as the sex had been, the giddy grin on my face had nothing to do with that.

Agapi.

Yeah, it had a lot to do with that. It had to do with him calling me sweetheart. Had a lot to do with the hope swelling in my chest. Had a lot to do with everything that was and wasn’t said between us.

And okay, the sex played a factor. I mean, come on. He picked me up and held me off the bed! Whoa. And he’d brought me a plate of bacon this morning.

Bacon.

I was so going to marry this guy, whether he knew it or not. And marriage could totally be in our future, because we were going to survive the whole Titan gods thing and I was going to find a way to get him out of the hands of the gods, now and for eternity. I knew who could do that and I had a plan, fostered this morning while I’d showered and it was a pretty damn good—

“Hello.”

Startled by the cool, oddly accented greeting, I stepped back and lifted my gaze from the floor. The first thing I noticed were black heels. Pointy-toed and spiked. Like the kind of spiked heel I would look like a baby giraffe in. My gaze tracked up thin calves and over a tight pencil skirt in charcoal. The white blouse was tucked into the skirt, and ruffles traveled up the center of the woman’s slim waist and chest.