Sunburn (2 page)

Apollo’s face broke into a huge smile. He caught his sister in a big bear hug and swung her around in a circle. She was his twin, his dearest relative in a family that could only be called unusual, and he’d really wanted her good opinion. “I knew you’d like it!” He set her down and planted a gentle kiss on her pretty brow, feeling her smile. He darted a look at the lounge chairs that had cost him a mint, not that he ever ran out of money. “You don’t think it’s too much, do you? Too extravagant? I want it to be nice, but also welcoming.”

Artemis rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t worry. As long as you’re here running the show, you’ll always attract a wide variety of female customers.” She looked over at a cluster of young women ordering some towels at the nearby hut. The ones whose faces seemed permanently glued in Apollo’s direction. “Fresh blood?”

He grinned. “A tour group from Germany. Just arrived yesterday. They’re still taking in the, uh, sights.” He waved at the women.
“Willkommen meine Damen.”

As their jaws all dropped, they dropped the towels they held too. There was a flurry as they all bent over at once to retrieve them, causing several of them to knock heads. A string of guttural German curses followed.

Artemis walked Apollo away, her hand in his, shaking her head and sighing. “I see the Mexican heat hasn’t diminished your powers over the female sex.”

He blushed, feeling pretty satisfied with himself, but more for the popularity of his resort than his sex appeal. “If it means the customers keep coming to Helios Resort, it’s all good. I’ll flirt with all of them if I have to.”

“Still the coldhearted deity, I see,” she teased. “Not one of those pretty faces back there turned your head?”

“Sister,” he warned.

She dismissed the topic with a dainty wave. “Anyway, about the resort’s name. Don’t you think it’s a little obvious? We’re supposed to keep a low profile.”

“Please,” he responded. “Most mortals haven’t read enough Greek myth to know Helios the sun god. And they certainly wouldn’t know I took over his duties eons ago so he could retire and play sailor in the Mediterranean. I think I’m safe.”

“Apollo, you’re the one tall, blond, white guy working in a resort full of Mexicans. You own the place. You haven’t bothered to use an alias. Oh yeah, and you look like a Greek god. You sure no one’s going to put two and two together?”

He just smiled and led her down a
palapa
-covered pathway and breathed in the air, so redolent of cocoa butter. “It makes me happy, sis. Just be happy for me.”

She pulled him into a quiet corner and frowned. “I am happy for you. But I know why you’re doing this.”

He stared at his sister, his boon companion for thousands of years. The person he loved more than anything. Even though she was his sibling, her beauty still baffled him. Although they were twins, in looks, she was his total opposite. She had lovely black hair and dark eyes, eyes that mysteriously took on a silvery glow when she was angered or ready for battle. And she had battled at his side for millennia. She understood him. Artemis would understand this resort, exciting as it was as a business venture, was also a means of escape. A way to drown out the horrible prophecies that had plagued him since birth.

Not that he could do much about it. He was the god of prophecy, after all. He just couldn’t see his own future, which was why he hadn’t foretold the fiasco that was his love affair with Daphne so many centuries ago. It was also why he’d embarked on so few other similar affairs of the heart. Oh, he’d had women, a great deal of them, and enjoyed himself, thank you very much.

But so few Daphnes. The worst thing about his existence was being unable to foretell the horrible deaths of loved ones, being unable to see the demise of relationships inevitably doomed. He hadn’t prophesied Daphne’s horrendous transformation because she’d been connected to him. The same thing had happened with the few women he’d attempted to love since her. He couldn’t endure that again.

He also couldn’t stomach being called a monster again. He’d heard it one too many times.

It was an accurate description.

Anyway, in his experience, most women tended to bend the truth. Certainly the ones he’d known had. Yes, he understood many of them had lied because they hadn’t known how else to deal with someone like him. Even still, lying was a sin he couldn’t forgive. As god of prophecy, he’d also been endowed with a particular trait: the inability to lie. It was something the Greeks had celebrated him for in the old days.

If you want the truth, go to Apollo.

And as champion of the truth, he despised fabrication in others. Especially women, because so many of his lovers had lied. Had lied to receive gifts, only to turn and run when he’d tried to make it real. Oh, he’d learned the hard way, all right. Women couldn’t be trusted. Artemis was the only one who never lied to him.

“Apollo?”

He looked up. “It’s okay. When I’m here, surrounded by so much pleasure, I can ignore my visions as long as I don’t touch too many people. I keep busy. I ensure the mortals are happy. This place is good for me, sis. It gives me a purpose.” He smiled.

Her eyes narrowed, flashing silver for a moment. “You can’t help them all, you know. You shouldn’t fret over your prophecies. They’re mortals. They die.”

His frustration got the better of him for a moment and he snapped. “How would you like it? What would you do if, every time you met new people, you visualized their deaths in vivid detail? Every time I shake a new hand, I see what’s coming to them. Wouldn’t you want to escape that every so often?”

She put her hand on his cheek. “I know. I’m not judging you. We all have our burdens and methods for dealing with them. Do whatever you have to do.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, immediately remorseful for lashing out.

“I understand.”

“No. There’s no excuse for my surly behavior. I’ve been a little more on edge lately. I’ve received an e-mail from The Travel Chick, letting me know she’s arriving at any time to review my resort.”

“The travel blogger? The one who writes all those bad reviews from a woman’s perspective?”

“Yeah,” he answered in a wry tone. “And the same one who has thousands of devoted followers. I don’t want her bad-mouthing the place.”

“You’re a god, Apollo. What do you care if she scribbles trash about surly waiters or toilets that don’t flush properly?”

“Excuse me,” he retorted with a grin. “This is Helios. I pay my waiters well so they have no reason to be surly, and all our toilets have a very assertive flush.” He gave his sister a playful elbow. “Besides, that woman does damage to resort reputations. People lose revenue because of her ‘helpful’ comments. Shit, she has almost as many followers as we did in the old days.”

“So talk to her.”

“She tries to keep her identity a secret. I know who she is, of course, but I can’t just approach her. Once she’s here in my radar, I’ll work my magic.”

Their attention was diverted by the sound of several female squeals. Within seconds, nine loud, young women careened around the corner, pounding the wooden pathway. Artemis gawked. “Oh, gods, you didn’t bring the Muses with you too, did you?”

He shrugged, whispering. “Don’t be hard on them. If they didn’t have me to look after them, they’d get into all sorts of trouble. Those girls are slaves to their senses. I thought I could put them to work here as my social committee: the Muse Crew.”

Artemis stared. “How appropriate.”

The Muses crowded around the heavenly twins. “Artemis is here!” They jumped around the goddess, much like a gang of champion cheerleaders, as she bristled. “Hurray!”

Artemis stepped back, clearly trying to smile through her grimace. “How lovely to see you all again. Calliope, Urania…”

Apollo jumped in, trying not to laugh at his sister’s reaction. She’d never felt comfortable around the silly Muses. Artemis was too solemn, preferring the company of one or two nymphs to a gaggle of girls. “Actually, sis, I let the Muses choose new names for their employment here. Most mortals wouldn’t be able to handle a moniker like Terpsichore.”

Terpsichore exploded into giggles and jumped up and down like a bunny on speed. “I’m Tiffany now!”

Artemis uttered a ladylike grunt. “Of course you are.”

Biting his lip, Apollo introduced the rest of the Muse Crew. “That’s right. So if you call the girls by name, you’ll have to use their new names. Aside from Tiffany, we have Candi, Cindy, Ellie, Ebony, Mandy, Polly, Tina.” He nodded to the last Muse in line. “And, uh, Uma.”

Artemis averted her eyes.

Uma clapped her hands. “I picked it myself!”

Seeing his sister was about to combust from all the excess silliness and gaiety, he dismissed the Muse Crew. “Girls, isn’t there a new tour group to welcome any minute?”

A cry went up among the crew. “Yay! New tour groups!” They ran off in search of the tourists, skipping and delirious, tittering about what kind of men might be on the bus.

Artemis stared after them, her mouth open. “I will never understand them. How do you endure it?”

“They keep things … light. I need that.”

“You’re not having an affair with one of them?” she demanded to know, eyes wide. “I remember how Melpomene used to look at you in the fifth century! Oh, sorry,
Mandy
.”

“Gods, no,” he assured her. “I’m like a father to them. I’ve had enough trouble over the years just making sure they don’t drive mortal men insane with temptation! Believe me, I’m not interested. Besides, they’re employees. They have a strict curfew here.”

Her smile dripped skepticism. “Right. Good luck with that.”

Apollo put his arm around her shoulder, laughing, and led her down the pathway. “Come on, big sister. I’ll show you to your room.”

* * * *

Patience O’Connor tried to maneuver the tour bus steps as she got off the vehicle, but only succeeded in tripping. Again. She turned to her friend Doris, who had already disembarked with their other friend, Angie. “Dammit, Doris! Why did I let you convince me to wear heels on this trip? I’ve almost killed myself fifteen times between here and Buffalo!”

Doris Nemec didn’t look impressed. “Eet’s not my fault,” she drawled in her Czech accent, “your mother never taught you to walk in stilettos. Eet’s a basic skill for a woman.”

Patience fished a couple of hundred pesos out of her handbag and gave them to the giggling driver, resisting the urge to smack him. “My mother never taught me anything, but that’s beside the point.” She managed the last step with a pronounced wobble. “These things are instruments of torture! Which one of you stole my flip-flops?”

Angie Lang’s gaze burned into her. “You don’t get your flip-flops back until you land a man. And maybe not even then.” She smiled, as she might to a simpleton. “If you weren’t so stubborn, Patience, and agreed to have a coffee with a guy once a month, we wouldn’t have to resort to such drastic measures as stealing your sensible footwear.”

Patience glared. “I’m not here to ‘land a man.’ I’m here to work and observe, remember? You guys are the ones on holiday. You can land as many men as you want.” She watched the man unloading luggage from the bus cargo hold to ensure he pulled out all their luggage, but he was moving at a snail’s pace. He was more intrigued by the shape of Doris’ tits. “Besides, the men are always interested in the two of you, not me. And I’m fine with that,” she was quick to add.

Doris and Angie stared back and sighed. They meant well, but her friends thought all the world’s ills could be solved by a sordid sex fest. And who could blame them? They were both so gorgeous they had to beat the men off with a stick, not to mention most women.

With Doris’ long, blonde locks and sultry accent, the men were putty in her hands. And Angie was just as stunning with her red hair and shiny green eyes. Both had supermodel figures, not an ounce of fat between them, and weren’t ashamed to flaunt their bodies.

Patience didn’t have time for a gym membership. She’d been too busy being top travel agent for Buffalo’s Happy Trails Agency for the past few years. And now, thank God for people who relied on the blogosphere for answers, her Travel Chick blog kept her so busy it was her new career. Even when she traveled to locations she was reviewing, she preferred to keep her appearance professional, her long, brown waves tucked into a tidy bun or ponytail. And she was much more comfortable wearing business suits than bathing suits. Blazers hid a multitude of evils, including big boobs, bigger hips, and a waist that was none too slim.

Curse those Snickers bars.

Only blazers didn’t work so well under Mexico’s blaring sun.

What on earth would she do when she had to hit the poolside in the string bikini Doris and Angie had forced her to buy? People would laugh. Children would cry.

Oh well, let them.

She should have brought her sensible, one-piece Gottex suit, but no woman in her right mind ever wore one-piece suits to these resorts. It was either bikinis or topless, which was
not
an option.

She rearranged her damp bangs on her forehead and looked at her wrinkled skirt and blouse. She’d been perfectly pressed when she’d left Buffalo at three in the morning. But because her friends had insisted she wear those heels, making all her movements precarious at best, she’d become a hot, sweaty mess. Her makeup was smeared, and she was sure the back of her blouse was stained with sweat.

For a travel professional, she didn’t travel well. What she’d give for a T-shirt and cutoff shorts!

Despite her frustration, she couldn’t stay too angry at her friends. They had been nice enough to join her on this trip. When she’d heard the incredible word of mouth about the new Helios Resort, Patience had just known she had to try it for herself. No self-respecting travel professional would ignore it, and she prided herself on providing her readers with a firsthand opinion. She’d decided to make it a working holiday so she could personally check it out and hopefully give it The Travel Chick seal of approval. It was something she didn’t give out lightly.

Sure, some thought she was a bit harsh on the hotels and tourist attractions she reviewed, but female readers wanted the truth. Women wanted to know if there were changing tables in hotel bathrooms, and if they’d have to line up for an hour to get into said bathroom. Women needed assurance hotels could cater to their particular needs, as well as the needs of their families. And Patience had no problem telling them the truth. Because of her blog, several hotel chains had already implemented much-needed changes.