Goddess of Love Read Free Page A

moved silently, with a strength that was none-the-less obvious because of its pace. He had just come to the exit of the grand ballroom when he heard laughter that was so uninhibited and joyous and musical that there was no doubt at all to whom it belonged.
    No. He did not want to face her again today. He stopped and stepped silently into the concealing shadows as Venus approached. She was laughing and having an animated conversation with the Goddess of Spring. Obviously leaving his realm had instantly cured her boredom.
    â€œAll right Persephone! I concede to you. After one glimpse of those divine boots, I’m willing to admit that I was too harsh in my judgment of your little kingdom,” Venus said as she laughed.
    â€œHow many times do I have to explain it to you? Tulsa, Oklahoma, is not a kingdom, nor is it mine.” Persephone’s laughter was light and carefree, beautiful in its own right, even though it didn’t have the seductive lure of the Goddess of Love. “Think of Tulsa as you would one of the ancient cities, like Pompeii or Mediolanum, only the sewage systems in Tulsa are better.” She paused and frowned. “But I cannot say the traffic has improved.”
    â€œAre you telling me that you spend six months of the year in a city with fabulous marbled baths like Pompeii?” Venus asked eagerly.
    â€œNo. Sorry. Tulsa doesn’t have Pompeii’s baths.”
    â€œThen does it have Mediolanum’s delicious red wine?” Venus moaned in remembered pleasure. “Red wine from Italy’s Mediolanum region is sinfully rich and wondrous.”
    â€œUh, no. Tulsa isn’t a wine region, although they do import wines from all over the world.” Persephone chewed her bottom lip delicately while she paused and thought for a moment. “Actually I’ve found myself falling in love with a drink called a specialty martini. And they are definitely made right there in Tulsa.”
    â€œThat only sounds vaguely interesting. Certainly not enough to account for your obsession with that place.”
    â€œI’m not obsessed!”
    â€œOf course you are,” Venus said. “You spend six months out of the year in Tulsa. And right now it’s not even spring or summer there, but you’ve just returned from yet another visit. You can’t fool Love, Persephone. I know obsession when I see it.”
    Vulcan assumed the Goddess of Spring would be angered by Venus’s words, so he was surprised to hear her respond with good-natured laughter.
    â€œMaybe I am obsessed. And why not? I do adore Tulsa. There’s something about walking the streets of a modern city, one where no one recognizes me as an immortal, that is just so wondrously freeing. Think of it, Venus. No one prejudges you by what you may or may not have done for uncounted centuries. No one knows who your parents are. No one cringes in fear if you get annoyed. And here’s the best part—no one worships you because you’re a goddess. If you’re worshipped”—she smiled seductively—“it’s because you’re a desirable, intelligent, fascinating woman . Can you imagine what a lovely change that is?” Persephone didn’t give the goddess a chance to answer. “And the men! Modern men are different than ancient mortals. They don’t have their hang-ups.”
    Venus’s smooth brow wrinkled in confusion.
    â€œHang-ups—it means that they don’t think like archaic, barbaric dolts. Well, most of them don’t. Modern men don’t have the prejudices the ancients have; they know how to appreciate women as equals, and that is very, very sexy.”
    From the shadows Vulcan watched understanding dawn over Venus’s beautiful face at the same instant he felt a shock of something that he didn’t recognize at first because the emotion was so foreign to him—hope. What Persephone had said about modern men being different had