Okay...this was not what Brooke had anticipated. She set the book - of poems down on the table next to her. If Alexander looked again, he'd see that it was a collection of love poems from various poets. Gently, almost hesitantly, Brooke ran her gentle, perfectly manicured fingers through Alexander's dark hair.

A god, she realized, was kneeling at her feet. Her pulse quickened the slightest bit at that realization.

"Hi," she said softly, still caressing his hair. It was an odd, intimate thing for a woman as generally cold as Brooke to do. "Is...everything okay?"