Cupid stood sightless while the afternoon sun warmed her bare shoulders. The arrow quivered in the bow, pulled back and ready to go. The sudden whir of an engine distracted her, but only for a moment.
"Cupid, wait!"
Twang!
The arrow left her grasp and soared through the still air to find its mark.
Cupid Albright pulled the blindfold off and looked down at her nephew, Mikey. "What's wrong? Why'd you yell at me? I probably missed my target."
"That depends on what you were aiming at," came a rich baritone voice behind her.
Cupid twirled around.
Parked several yards away sat the longest, shiniest, blackest limousine she'd ever seen. In the driver's seat sat a man. A very handsome man.
"Oh Lord," she mumbled aloud. Her arrow was hanging precariously from his cheek.
Protectively, she wrapped her arm around Mikey's shoulder. The nine-year-old boy squirmed out of her grasp, but she rushed after him when he darted toward the car.
"Wow, a real limousine!" He rubbed his hand along the sleek metal. "Can I go inside?"
"Mikey, get over here and stop puttin' fingerprints on the nice man's car."
"He's all right," the man said climbing out of the car.
Cupid's attention traveled back to the driver of the limo. He pulled the arrow off his cheek, leaving a small ring of spit-her spit-glistening on his skin.
"I am really sorry. I didn't mean to shoot you. We always practice out here. I was blindfolded and I'm--"
"I know, you're sorry. I'm just thankful you don't use real arrows." His tone was light and his eyes sparkled a shade of blue that reminded her of-geez, she couldn't think of anything she'd ever seen that was as blue as his eyes. For just a minute, she thought she might drown in them.
An image of a Bermuda vacation commercial came to mind. An endlessly deep pool of aquamarine shimmered before her.
"Aunt Cupid, look at this car."
"Cupid?" A deep dimple appeared in his cheek when his lips curved up into a smile darn near as dazzling as his eyes.
"Aphrodite Albright." She held her hand out toward him. "Everyone calls me Cupid."
"You're kidding, right?"
Anger instantly heated her cheeks and her temper rose. The last thing she wanted from him was another stupid joke about little blind boys who shot arrows of passion into the hearts of unsuspecting lovers. She'd had more than enough of that growing up. Flat as a board, front and back, she'd had the same haircut as her brother. Thanks to genetics, she'd never been the victim of the real Cupid's fateful shot. To date, no men had fallen at her feet and pledged their undying love.
"No, I'm not joking." The glint of humor in his eyes stoked her anger and she needed to get away from him before she did something horrible. "Mikey. Inside."
)
