Title of Story: Daughter of the Gods

Story Summary: An American boy, a daughter of Greece, and the gods determined to meddle with their fate.

Pairing: Edward/Bella

Rating: M

Word Count:10,761

Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

Daughter of the Gods

Leda stood silhouetted against the rising sun at the edge of Mount Olympus, watching the mortals of the realm below.

A girl of gentle soul worked to open a stubborn umbrella over one of the tables of her family's seaside cafe. As she frowned over her work, she was oblivious to the wind playing with her hair or the sun's rays reaching to embrace her and draw her away to follow her fancies. She continued with a firm determination to wipe each table as the sea called to her from the shore below.

"She is a lovely, worthy mortal, my king." Leda's quiet longing tugged at Zeus' worn but still serviceable heart.

With the flick of his finger, he drew the fair Leda onto his lap. "She looks like you, my love, the first time I came to you," he said as his arms snaked around her. He smiled at the memory of coming to her in the guise of a swan to seduce and claim and ran his hand under her collar, capturing a breast. She sighed at the fond memory and leaned into him, kissing his neck.

"Her name is Isavela Kyknos (Isabella Swan), sire, descended from our Helen," she whispered.

She smiled as his broad chest rumbled with mirth beneath her cheek.

He rolled her nipple contemplatively, "Is she, now? I can see the beauty of Helen resting on her," he said nodding before taking the tip of her ear between his teeth as he ran his tongue along the back, letting his hot breath spill down her neck and smiled at her shiver.

"She is a daughter of the gods, Zeus. She should find happiness in her mortal realm," she said as she melted into him.

"Would that please you, my love?" Zeus asked as he spread his hand low on her soft abdomen.

"Y—yes, it would please me greatly to see her happy," she sighed.

"Then let it be by your hand, my fair Leda, and the throne will sit content," he decreed as he tilted her head for access to her long slender neck.

She turned in his lap, tangling her fingers in his long, flowing beard, drawing his mouth to hers.

"Thank you, my king," she whispered against his warm, full lips.

"For you, my love, anything," he said before claiming her luscious mouth.

.

.

Edward Cullen stood on his narrow balcony with his face lifted to the morning sun as he breathed in the crisp, Mediterranean air. His first day of holiday in Greece promised to be glorious. As he looked over the white rooftops of stone buildings hugging the coastline contrasting with the blue of the shimmering sea and cloudless sky he could see the inspiration for the Greek flag. He took another blissful breath just as movement below caught his eye.

A small, curvy figure wrestled an unyielding umbrella at a café across the road from his hotel. He leaned his forearms on the railing and watched with fascination as her skirt inched up her smooth thighs as she angled over the table. With a pop, the umbrella yielded and sent her stumbling backward.

His heart caught in his throat as he watched to see if she would fall. She bumped against a table before righting herself and tossing her glossy mane over her shoulders in annoyance.

He relaxed back against the railing as she grabbed a towel and began wiping the tables with an energy of thinly veiled frustration. Edward watched with rapt appreciation as her breasts jiggled with her effort.

With a slap of the towel on her thigh, she turned toward the café and Edward knew his show was over. Seeing her turn the 'OPEN' sign around made him realize he really should indulge in an authentic Greek breakfast.

.

.

"Geia sou, na tin parakolouthísete , na sas xegelásei!" (Hey, watch it, you fool!)

Edward watched the vivacious waitress swat at the swarthy, olive skinned demi-god snaking his hand up the back of her skirt. She smacked the back of his head as he flashed white teeth and his chest rumbled a deep chuckle. Apparently enjoying ruffling her feathers, he leaned forward, licking his lips suggestively as she moved out of arms reach to return to the café's kitchen.

"Let me guess, Speedo model?" Edward muttered toward the table next to him.

The young man frowned at the foreigner and then, catching the humor, broke into a wide grin.

The waitress returned with her tormentor's meal. Expertly swerving around his tentacled reach, she dropped his plate with a thud before moving toward Edward's table.

She was so much prettier up close. Pretty wasn't the right word. She reminded him of a young Monica Bellucci; innocent beauty encased in a seductive, hour-glass form. He sat up straighter as she approached.

With a glare over her shoulder, she surprised Edward by dropping her curvy form into the chair across the table from him.

Ricco Suave's face sobered before he started laughing again. "Emeís páme gia na pantrefteí , o patéras eípate , Isa." (We're going to wed, your Papa said, Isa)

She flipped her hair and waved a dismissive hand in his direction. "I mitéra eípe páno apó nekró sóma tis, Nikko." (Mama said over her dead body, Nikko.)

He growled more laughter as he made a show of pulling his thick curls into a man bun, making sure to flex his chest and arm muscles in the process.

She tsked dismissively and turned her attention on the foreigner, "Don't mind Nikko. He's a child trapped in a man's body." She pushed the loosened wisps of hair out of her face before really looking at the man sitting across from her.

She cocked her head. "On holiday?"

He smiled at her distracted rambling, "Yes, I just came from Italy for some vacation time in Greece."

Birdlike, she cocked her head the other direction, "But you're American," she stated.

He sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was in the regatta last week."

"American?"

"No, I was on the Italian crew for Vento Amare," he said as he ran a finger around the rim of his water glass.

She reached behind her to a service cart and splashed water into his glass from a silver pitcher.

"Vincent Aro's boat, you came in third?" she asked over her shoulder as she stretched to return the pitcher to the cart.

He paused, admiring the expanse of curves on display before answering, "Yes, you know about yacht racing?"

A deep voice came from behind him causing Edward to jump. "Her papa and uncles have forgotten more than you'll ever know about boats, Skinny Boy." Nikko rumbled before bending forward and sliding a kiss across Isa's cheek.

"Antío, Isa," (Goodbye, Isa) he cooed as she pushed at his solid form. Nikko straightened and gave Edward a shriveling look before strutting down the boardwalk, turning heads in his wake.

She stole a peek at the handsome foreigner's profile as he watched Nikko walk away.

"My name is Isavela, Isa," she said hoping to draw his attention back to her.

"Isa," he grinned, "I'm Edward Cullen, Edward, it's nice to make your acquaintance" and smiled wider as she blushed and dropped her gaze.

Edward felt like beating his chest. Nikko didn't bring on Isa's blush. Game on you Greek bastard, he thought.

Her sudden movement startled him out of his reverie. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you must be hungry," she blurted as she stood.

He felt the sting of disappointed by her sudden distance.

"Um, yes, I was hoping for an authentic Greek breakfast, what do you recommend, Isa?" he asked with a gentle voice.

She bit her lip. "Light or heavy?" she asked.

"Um, light," he said tucking his head to try and catch her eye.

She sighed and made herself look at the handsome stranger who would be here and then gone and again felt the rush and pang before she forced a polite smile.

"Mama makes a light plate of honey drizzled rice pudding, fresh fruits, breads, soft cheese and thyme butter," she said as she tucked a wavy strand behind her ear.

That sounds nice, Isa," he said.

"Yes, right away, sir," she murmured and hurried toward the café.

What just happened? She went from sitting at his table shooting the breeze to 'sir'. How did he mess up? He replayed the whole meeting and wondered if there was more between Isa and that Nikko guy than he first thought. Maybe she was just flirting with the American to get the Greek gorilla jealous.

He looked up at the approach of soft footfall to see a mature Monica Belluci carrying a tray toward , the apple didn't fall far from the tree and what a phenomenal family tree it was!

He sat up stiffly in his seat as she leaned closely to place his food carefully before him.

"Hello, Et-wad, I am the Mama. You call me Renee. I make your breakfast. My Isa says you're a handsome face. I come to see for myself." She laughed lightly and patted his shoulder before straightening, breaking the spell.

He gathered his scattered wits and cleared his throat.

"Um, your daughter is quite lovely, I appreciate the compliment, ma'am."

She placed her hand on her very ample hip, studying him.

"Are you a good boy, Et-wad?" She tossed at him with an arched brow.

He liked this woman. She was smoke and spice, a little crazy wrapped in tempting curves.

He flashed a cheeky smile, "Well, I'd say not as good as a monk, but no worse than a drunk—ma'am."

He was rewarded with a rich, throaty laugh as she threw her head back showing him her long graceful neck. Damn, but her husband was a lucky man.

She sighed and patted his cheek, "I like you, American. You come, eat here while you're on holiday, yes?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'll gladly be back." Realizing he was leaning forward, he made himself sit back.

"Good, that pleases me, Et-wad," she flashed him a bright smile as she picked up the tray and sashayed toward the kitchen.

He settled into eating. The rice pudding was creamy, and the fruit and cheese played off each other dancing across his palette. When he'd had his fill, he put his napkin next to his plate and looked out over the water with a satisfied sigh.

Happy—he was happy here. His mom would be pleased, he thought. A secret smile softened his features as he shared a moment with her and the sun and water she so loved.

A demitasse cup of thick, aromatic Turkish coffee with two chocolate sticks gracing the saucer slipped in front of him.

He looked up to find the lovely Isa framed in the morning sun.

Stunned, he whispered a "thank you."

She gave him a smile with a sweet, "You're most welcome, Edward," in return.

.

.

"Mama don't, please. He is a handsome man, yes, but he will leave; there is no use in falling for a pretty face," Isa lowered her voice even though she was confident Edward didn't speak Greek fluently.

"I know if you won't fall for the charms of Nikko, you are looking for more, Isa. I just want you to enjoy what happiness life offers." Renee said with a gentle hand running down her daughter's arm.

Isa shook her head at her mother's infuriatingly easy manner and looked across the sunny tables to the American. Edward was looking out across the water with a tender, loving expression painted across his face. Isa's breath hitched, whoever she was, this woman he thought of was blessed to have such a man think of her so. Knowing he loved another so deeply gave Isa a sense of freedom. Edward would not pursue her while his heart was full of another. She could just enjoy him while he was here.

She prepared a coffee for him, ignoring her mother's grin as she added the extra chocolate stick and moved quickly toward him.

"Thank you," he said.

She saw the tender expression for his lover lingered as he looked at her.

"You're most welcome, Edward." She returned.

His smile widened with her kindness. She put her hands behind her back to keep from smoothing back the windblown lock of auburn over his eyes.

His eyes shot to the seat she had occupied earlier and with no other patrons to wait on, she lowered herself across from him.

"I love it here," he smiled across the sunny expanse of water below them and turned his eyes back to her. "My mother lived for the sun and water. She taught me to surf and sail. I wish she could be here to enjoy this." He said.

Realization dawned, "Your—mother?"

He looked back to the lovely girl across from him, "She would have loved it here and your mom, she would have enjoyed your mom immensely. She was fascinated with the power of stunning women like your mother. I guess the attraction of opposites." He shrugged.

"Your mother is pretty?" Isa asked.

There was that tender smile again.

"My mom was beautiful, but she was natural, shoes were a stretch for her most days. My mom's beauty came from her joy of life."

"Joie de Vie," she said.

He smiled at her, "Yes, that was my mother's beauty—Joie de Vie."

She couldn't resist. "Would she like me?"

He cocked his head and studied her a moment. "Yes, she would have loved you, Isa. You are a mixture of both, I think, a stunning beauty who walks in natural beauty. You're the perfect girl, a true bella—Isa-bella."

She blushed and looked down, giving him another rush of victory. But the realization of his words hit, and her heart froze.

"Would have?" she looked up and watched his face cloud over.

"She died last winter. She had a heart defect we didn't know about—a heart attack and she was gone with the sunrise."

"I'm sorry, Edward," she whispered.

He looked out over the water for a long moment. She watched his tortured grief slowly morph into the tender love and finally a light broke through and the joy of life was back.

"Come sailing with me today, Isa."

"Oh, I—I have to work . . ."

"She would love to, Et-wad. Boró na diacheiristeí me ti voítheia Lydías, Isa." (I can manage with Lydia's help, Isa.) Renee was at their table taking Isa's arm and all but handing her to Edward.

He put out his arm to stabilize Isa next to him and dropped it just as quickly. "I haven't paid, ma'am . . ."

Renee waved him off. "You come back for dinner; we talk then." She winked at her daughter and turned to glide back to the kitchen.

"I'll just go—and change?" Isa looked from her mother's retreating form to Edward.

Glancing at her tight skirt, Edward said, "Yes, comfortable and a hat, the sun will be bright today, and the small craft won't allow for lady-like movement."

While Isa changed, Edward sat sipping his now cool and bitter coffee. He was startled out of his thoughts when a basket dropped on the table. Looking up into Renee's smile, she patted the basket, "Picnic," she said simply.

"Um, thank you," he said as he began moving the contents into a waterproof backpack.

She leaned closer as he worked. "Isavela, she has not found the beauty of men. She is fighting, always pushing. Maybe you will be her gentle teacher."

He looked up into Renee's soulful eyes and saw concern mingled with hope.

"You don't know me," he said and dropped his eyes.

She pinched his chin and lifted it to bring his eyes back to hers. She studied him for a long moment, and he let her.

With a nod, she patted his cheek, "I know enough, Et-wad. The rest is just familiarity." With a small frown, she added, "You must keep the honey flowing, but always the gentleman, yes?"

"A gentleman—yes ma'am."

Renee patted his cheek, "You're a good boy." She shot him a smile and a warning frown before returning to the kitchen.

His heart skipped a beat as the mini-me of the mother came toward him.

He looked down at Isa and grinned, "Shall we?"

She looked into his hopeful eyes and yielding, smiled.

.

.

Zeus braced for battle at the sound of his sister-wife's determined footsteps echoing through the corridors.

"Hera, my lovely queen, what malfeasant plottings have put that skip in you step this day," Zeus asked as she surged into the room.

Hera glared at the odious man sprawled on his throne and flashed her teeth in a saccharine smile.

"It is merely the thrill of being in your presence that makes my step light—my darling," she cooed.

Weary of her presence already he cut to the chase. "How may I be of service, my dear?"

She noticed he did not draw her closer, not that her skin didn't crawl at the thought of being near him, but the insult was noted none the less.

"It seems love is in the air. Cupid hovers with his arrows on the ready," she said gliding to the window and gazing over the mortal realm.

"What does that winged rodent have to do with us—my queen?" he spit out as he sat straight and alert.

"It would seem the doe-eyed Leda has a new project," she said with venom dripping from her lips.

Zeus held her heated glare as his hand shot out and his lightning bolt flew into his grasp.

"You will not intervene, Hera." With all pretense dropped, the chill of his voice froze her in place.

"I have every right to intervene, husband mine!" She spat as her hands balled into tight fists.

He shook his head with cruel pity marring his visage, "I will always be king before husband in your presence you wicked viper."

Rage distorted her face, and she took a breath but swallowed her words as a lightning bolt hit inches from her feet.

"You forget yourself—wife. I and I alone rule this realm. You are nothing more than ornamentation." Zeus' words dripped with disdain.

Hera shook with fury as her eyes bore holes through him.

She turned on her heels and with a flurry of skirts stormed out of the throne room with the massive ornate doors slamming behind her.

"We shall see," echoed ominously down the corridor as Zeus leaned his lightning bolt against his throne and rubbed his brow.

.

.

Edward led Isa through narrow cobblestone streets toward the marina, each thrilled at being together. Shy smiles and touches under the guise of navigation were all the communication they could manage.

Isa was seeing her world through new eyes as she followed Edward, who was vibrating with excitement as they wove through shops and stalls. She finally took his hand just to keep up. A squeeze let her know he liked her hand in his. He found he liked the view as she walked in front of him, the gentle sway of her hips in her snug capris held him entranced.

Under his appreciative gaze, Isa truly felt like her mother's daughter and lifted her chin and squared her shoulders as the power of her feminine wiles left her giddy.

At the marina, he took the lead again passing large impressive vessels to come to a stop at the edge of a pier. He waited with evident pride for her reaction as she looked down at the blue, wooden framed, one-man sailboat.

She smiled encouragingly, but the twinkle in her eye gave her away. She giggled at his frown, "It's cute."

"Cute?" He frowned, "I made this boat by hand in Italy; I'll have you know." Seeing that she was impressed he pressed on, "It's just a Northeaster Dory, not a racing boat. I wanted to sail it along the coast when I came on vacation. Have you ever sailed before?"

"Well, not in such a small boat. My uncles and father work with larger boats, but this one is—nice."

He smirked at her candor and helped her step into the hull. She watched him work the rigging with ease and focus. He was so handsome in the Mediterranean sun, his muscles flexing and the wind playing with his hair. He was in his element, at peace here on the water. Watching him, Isa felt a bolt hit her heart and the rush and pang she had felt earlier collided.

He turned to smile at her in the sun and reached over to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Without thinking, she leaned into his hand. The surprise registered on his face, but his smile deepened as she blushed and smiled back.

Edward took her hand and pulled her close to him as he worked the tiller. She was happy by his side as the sun danced off the water and the wind tousled her hair and in her joy, she rested her head on his shoulder finding the small boat cozy perfection.

They wandered down the coast enjoying the sights of rocky cliffs and expanse of beaches filled with olive skinned men and women with their happy, sticky children.

Seeing the families, Isa shared that she was the only girl in a sea of male cousins being bullied and smothered by turns.

Edward shared how he was the only child of an only child. His mother said his father was a handsome stranger and gentle lover that she had met at a concert in her college days. It had just been he and his mother his whole life.

They anchored off the beach of Aspri Ammos and ate lunch on the white sand with their feet resting in the cool blue water.

Edward watched her delicate feet wiggle into the sand, her toes with their blue polish teasing below the sand and water and popped a grape into his mouth to distract himself.

"This is lovely, Edward," Isa said dreamily.

"It is molto bello, my bella, Isa," he said lazily as he laid back to take in the cerulean blue sky.

She blushed and gazed at the man stretched out next to her. The pull to stretch out next to him, to press her lips to his ran like a current through her blood.

He cocked his head to look at her and smiled knowingly. Holding out his arm, he invited her to lay with him.

Gingerly she stretched out next to him using his arm as a pillow leaving room between their bodies. He ran his knuckles over the apple of her cheek and closed his eyes—content.

Isa's soft voice floated through the warm air, "Edward?'

"Hmm?"

"Why did you come to Corfu for holiday? Why did you not go to the mainland?" Isa asked in her liquid bliss.

He crossed his legs at the ankle and took a breath. "I didn't want to hit the tourist spots. I wanted to experience Greece. My great-grandmother was from Corfu. She met my great-grandfather in Italy, and they immigrated to America. I wanted to see her homeland. I wanted to celebrate my mom by sailing the coast."

She felt him shrug next to her, and she rolled to look down on him.

He loved deeply—celebrating the women of his life. He was a son of Corfu. He was good and so very handsome. She realized she was making excuses to give herself permission. She didn't want to think of the fleeting time they would be given. She wanted only to embrace the present and be in the moment with this beautiful man.

With her hand resting lightly on his chest and her hair making a curtain around them, his eyebrows shot up and his eyes locked with hers in challenge.

"I'm going to kiss you, Edward," she warned.

He grinned back, "I'm going to let you, Isa."

As she lowered her lips to his, tentatively tasting, she felt his warm hand move over her shoulder and tangle in her hair.

Warm—so tender—his lips—his breath—intoxicating. When he groaned into her mouth, she was lost.

He flipped them and hovered over her as he took over the kiss.

"So sweet," he whispered against her swollen lips, "You're so sweet, Bella, my sweet Bella," he murmured into her hair as he held her still. When their hearts calmed, he kissed her neck and pulled back to brush her hair from her face and smiled fondly down on her.

"I could be in real trouble here, Isa," he admitted in a loving whisper.

Her heart froze and raced. He registered her panic and allowed her room to sit up.

"I'm sorry, Isa. I didn't mean to scare you."

The remorse splashed across his face eased her fears, and she calmed as she wrapped her arms around her knees and looked out over the water.

He cautiously brushed white sand from her hair and waited.

"I've never cared for a man, besides family," she began, "I've never dated or wanted to, until today."

She slid her hand in his and rested them on her knee, keeping her eyes on the horizon.

I am in trouble too, I—I know you're going to hurt me."

"No, Isa, no . . ."

"It won't be your fault, Edward. I said yes. I kissed you. I am going to fall for you and be crushed when you go. But it's too late. I know now it was too late before I left the café."

"Isa, I'm not including you in my tourist package."

"I know," she said.

"How could you? For all you know I have a girl in every port."

The terrified look on her face had him wrapping his arm around her.

"I don't, my Bella, my sweet Bella. I haven't had a girlfriend in two years. And I was with her for almost two years of college. I have gone out with girls as friends, but not like today. Today I saw you setting up the tables, struggling with the umbrella and it was as if a hand was at my back propelling me toward you."

She laid her cheek on their joined hands resting on her knee.

"So you feel it," she whispered.

"I feel it," he whispered back resting his cheek on her hair.

"What do we do?" she asked.

He sighed and turned to face her. He gently brushed her hair back from round soulful eyes.

"I guess we have two choices." He dropped his hand, and they both watched his finger draw an infinity symbol over and over in the sand. "We can stop this now. We pack up, and I take you back to your lovely mother and have this day for a sweet memory." Her finger joined his in tracing the symbol.

Or . . ." she prompted.

His hand captured hers. "Or we could enjoy each day with each other and see where this goes. You're right there is a risk of being hurt, Isa, but what if this is what we hope it is? I have two weeks here."

"Two weeks . . ." she repeated.

"I would like to spend them with you, Isa."

She looked out over the moving water and closed her eyes as the wind caressed her face. She belonged here in this place. She felt his hand wrapped around hers, and it felt right too. Could she just enjoy the happiness life offered? She looked at his handsome profile so full of remorse and loneliness not even daring to hope and touched his face, turning it toward her. "I'm scared, but yes, I want whatever the gods offer us."

His rigid form melted and he kissed her quickly, "Thank you, Isa." He took a deep breath and lay back down on the sand bringing her with him.

"Okay," he said with evident relief.

She smiled and slid her hand under his resting on his stomach.

.

.

"Skinny Boy, what are you doing with our Isa?" Nikko's deep voice rumbled off the café walls.

"Nikko, you hush," Renee fussed as her husband stood from his table.

"Isavela, poú ísoun?" (Isavela, where have you been?) the older gentleman asked.

Edward stopped in the doorway as Isa continued to be wrapped in the man's arms.

Renee came to him and wrapped her arm around his bicep. "You must be hungry, Et-wad. Come, I bring you drink."

She led him over to the table where hostile men gathered around Isa and glared at Edward.

"Kalispera," (good evening) Edward said as he approached the table. He stood waiting to be received as Isa's father and mother waged a silent war.

With a huff, the man stood and held his hand out, "Kalispera."

The two men shook hands with all eyes on them before Renee pushed him into the chair next to Isa. She patted his back as a seal of approval and was gone, leaving Edward in front of the firing squad. He looked to Isa, but she was having her own silent conversation with Nikko.

"So you had a good day with our, Isa, Skinny Boy?" Nikko asked as the men mumbled and grinned.

"His name is Edward, Nikko," Isa barked, and Edward reached for her hand under the table.

"We had a beautiful day at Aspri Ammos. It was a good day for sailing." Edward smiled politely at Nikko.

Isa's father picked sand out of his daughter's hair. "Aftó pou boroúme na doúme." (This we can see.)

Isa smacked his hand playfully. "Papa, this is Edward Cullen from America. Edward this is Karolos Kyknos (Charles Swan) better known as Charlie, my father."

Edward gave a short nod to the man glaring at him. "It's good to meet you, sir."

Isa ignored her father's grunt and continued, "And this band of misfits is my uncles and cousins. Nikko, you've met. He is a stray we fed once who refuses to leave." The table rumbled with laughter and Renee and two women surrounded the table with pitchers of wine and platters of food.

Charlie's voice rose over the din of hungry men filling their plates. "Are you married, American?"

The movement around the table slowed.

"No sir," he said meeting the man's eyes.

But the next volley came from an uncle at the other end of the table. "OCHI paidiá?" (No children?)

Edward looked to Isa to translate.

"Children. . ." she said as she glared at the uncle filling his mouth with moussaka and dripping it down his front.

Edward smiled stiffly, "No sir, no children, no girlfriend—no family." Isa noted the bitterness of the last word, and she squeezed his hand as her mama's hands rested on his shoulders.

She loved her mother at that moment.

Nikko with no ability at interpreting social cues picked up the conversation. "So, no wife, no girlfriend, not much with the skills, my friend?" The men laughed over their plates and Nikko lifted his thick brow in challenge.

Edward's eyes gleamed in the soft lighting, and he leaned back in his chair in a casual air. "I saw your skills at work this morning, Sport," he said as he put his arm across the back of Isa's chair, "How's that right hand holding up?"

The table burst into laughter and shouts of 'sport' as Nikko shouted, "Hey! I can get any girl I want. I snap my fingers; it's done."

Edward looked at Isa, and she smiled, "Not any girl."

The table of heads bobbed over their plates as they smiled with love and respect at the little girl in their midst. Nikko huffed and flicked a piece of bread toward Isa and shoveled a forkful of noodles into his mouth, winking at her as she flicked it back.

The conversation turned to sailing and Charlie watched Isa and the American share a private joke. He listened to the boy talk about the regatta last week and the sailboat he made while practicing for the race. He had been in Italy for four months and was now cruising the coast of Corfu on holiday. His brothers pummeled him with questions on boats and racing. He had been sailing since he was eight and racing since he was fifteen.

Charlie watched the American hold his own against his family. He watched him square off against Nikko and come out on top. But mainly he watched his women respond to this boy with support and affection. They were both in his corner with their claws flashing. He watched his beautiful wife refill the American's glass with her hand resting on his shoulder as she talked with his daughter, and frowned. How did this foreigner get into his family so quickly?

Renee moved to Charlie, leaning over him as she refilled his glass, "My handsome husband," she breathed. His hand ran up the back of her thigh, and she set the pitcher on the table. She ran her hand over his goatee before pulling his mouth to hers. He went willingly, his fingers painting circles on the sensitive skin on the back of her knee. When she pulled back, she smiled knowingly, and he stole one more peck before patting her hip and releasing her.

In the afterglow of his wife's affection, he saw his daughter with new eyes. Her innocent face held that same blush and glow that Renee's face held years ago. His eyes shot to the American, who had the same look of hope written across his face as Charlie felt as he pursued his beautiful wife's hand.

"Na pari i eychi," he muttered. (Damn it.)

.

.

The pleased smile on Leda's lips last night lingered with Zeus in the morning light as he stood to receive his estranged brother. He stepped down to meet Poseidon, and the two men embraced before Zeus led them onto the terrace overlooking the mortal realm.

"It has been too long, brother," he began.

Although the siblings could not stay in the same room for long, they still found it refreshing to be with someone who understood the burden of ruling.

"Too long, indeed, why have you called me, Zeus?" Poseidon asked as he surveyed his watery kingdom from a different perspective.

"How are my sons?

Poseidon's eyes narrowed, "Castor and Pollux are of great service to me. Leda should be proud of her boys."

Zeus rested his hand on Poseidon's shoulder, "It's interesting you should speak of the lovely Leda . . ."

.

.

The next day Edward was doted on by two beautiful women over breakfast and spent the day scuba diving. The group he was with visited a wreck and at one point a fellow diver took a picture of him with a small octopus resting in his hand.

That night he entertained the family table with stories of the dive. Isa's Uncle Athan used to scuba dive before he married and had a family and it was implied that it was a sport for the idly single.

He didn't mind their ribbing when every time he caught Isa's eye she looked at him as if he were a conquering hero.

When the dinner group broke up, Edward walked with Isa in the shadows, stealing kisses. She was so sweet in his arms. With one more kiss and a promise for tomorrow, he said his "kalinihta" (goodnight) and watched her until she was safe inside the café.

The solitude of his hotel room seemed to close in on him, and he stepped out on the narrow balcony breathing in the sultry Mediterranean air. A light caught his eye. The second story window of the building behind the café had a figure passing behind the curtain.

When the window opened, Edward felt like Romeo gazing upon his Juliet. Isa leaned out over the ledge with her long, wavy hair being carried away by the evening breeze. Her nightgown was white and flowing, and Edward squinted in the dark for a better view.

He used his cell phone's glow to draw her eye. He laughed when her face lite up and his heart lightened as she blew kisses. He missed her, her boisterous family, the life across the road. When she waved her goodnight, and her light went out, he returned to the silence of his room and stared at the ceiling for a long time before sleep took him.

.

.

The next day, Edward took Isa snorkeling along the reef of a nearby cove. The thrill of seeing her curvy frame in a bikini and that ass gliding and jiggling through the water ahead of him had him thinking thoughts that would have made Charlie violent and that alone was enough to have Isa put on a t-shirt when they were not in the water.

He pulled into an inlet with calm waters and white sand for the lunch Renee had packed them, and she laughed when he handed her a shirt. She slipped it on and gave him a consolation kiss. He wanted to grab a fistful of her hair and pull her into the hull with him. Instead, he gave her a lingering kiss and patted her ass as she stepped out of the boat ahead of him.

As he lay listening to her talk excitedly about the brightly colored fish and the beauty of the reef, he decided she should learn to scuba dive. He would love to take her deeper, to wreck sites and the underwater statues of Greece. The sting of disappointment hit him in the gut as he realized he would not be here to see that dream to fruition.

He rolled and placed his head in her lap. She smiled down at him as she began combing her fingers through his hair and feeding him grapes. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to stay in the moment with her, cherishing every moment—with her.

.

.

The next day had Isa showing Edward how to get to the fishing marina where her uncles had their fishing boats.

As he sat at the tiller, Isa worried for Edward. The men of her family could be quite rabid when the sensed weakness. His sweet, little, blue boat would be dwarfed ridiculously by the larger vessels.

She pointed to the end of the pier and Edward angled throwing a line and swiftly tying them in place. He helped her step out of the boat as Nikko led the uncles and cousins down the boardwalk.

Lambros stepped forward, "Is this your Esme?"

Edward put his arm around Isa's shoulder. "That's her."

The uncles gathered around her, and Phaedon whistled, "You did an excellent job, son."

Athan and Lambros agreed and as the cousins crowded between Isa and Edward the uncles took Edward onto Athan's boat offering him a beer and asking questions about design and tools.

Isa stared after them in shock until, jostled by Jason, she snapped back to her cousins.

"It's a good design. See the depth of the hull. For one man it's stable but still light enough for speed." Joseph said sitting by the tiller.

Nikko climbed into the boat rocking it. "Eínai san mia várka vréfos" (It is like an infant boat.)

"You big oaf, don't sink it." She snapped. The boys laughed, and Nikko gave a little jump just to watch her turn red and laughed as she stomped off to find Edward.

"You didn't tell me, your cousins raced, Isa," Edward greeted her handing her his beer. She took a sip, grimaced and passed it back. He reached into the cooler producing a bottle of water for her, and she kissed his cheek.

She shrugged.

He turned to the uncles excited to discuss racing with them and promising to go with them to the yacht club on the weekend.

.

.

They fell into a routine after that. Edward met Isa for breakfast each morning, and either spent the day sightseeing with her or meeting her uncles for trips out on their fishing boats.

He would meet up with Isa again for dinner and each night they walked hand in hand talking, kissing, learning each other and thoroughly liking each gem they exposed in the other.

He fell in love with the life of the uncles. They lived on the water, provided for their families from the water. Their lives centered on boats and the sea. He couldn't imagine a better living and each night after Isa blew kisses to him from her balcony, he would stare at the ceiling and spin fancies of life with his Bella on the sea.

.

.

On the last Friday of his vacation, Nikko had talked the cousins into going drinking and dancing. It was not Edward's idea of a good time, but he wanted to see Isa dressed up, and he wanted to have any excuse to have her in his arms.

Isa cooed over all of her cousins as they gathered together to go out. Clean and dressed up they were a gift to women everywhere, not that she would ever let them know. Joseph, Dimitris, and Alexis had dates, but Nikko, Jason, and Timothy planned on enjoying their single status when they got to the club.

It seemed all the cousins took turns dancing with Isa, passing her along and hovering over her protectively when Edward was not by her side. Nikko was the one that gave Edward pause. Not related by blood, Nikko pushed the brotherly love to the limits as they danced, his hands falling a bit too low, his broad chest a hair too close, his grip on her a bit too tight. When Isa pushed at Nikko and grimaced, Edward had had enough.

Pulling Isa out of the large ape's arms, Edward placed her behind him before turning to Nikko and pushing his broad chest with both hands.

"You jackass, enough, she doesn't like it!" Edward shouted over the music.

The cousins gathered around, and Joseph put his arm protectively around Isa.

"What the fuck do you care, Skinny Boy?" Nikko shouted back hitting Edward's shoulder causing him to rock back.

Edward pushed him again, "Why do you have to be such a fucking dick?"

Nikko laughed menacingly in Edward's face, "What do you care if she winds up with me, tonight, next week, next month? You'll be gone. What's to stop me then, Skinny Boy?" He looked around Edward at Isa and purse his lips sending her a kiss as Edward's fist rocketed through Nikko's jaw.

"You sonofabitch!" Edward shouted.

With that, Dimitris and Jason grabbed Edward as Timothy and Alexis caught Nikko dragging them to opposite sides of the building.

Edward turned to Isa furious but ashamed. She ran out of Joseph's hold to kiss Edward's knuckles and check him from head to toe. As she ran her hands over him, kissing him, he pulled her to him and buried his face in her hair.

His Bella.

He led her outside the club and in the shadows he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her again.

"You're mine, Bella. My Bella. Tell me you know that, Isa," he panted.

She ran her hand down his back over and over as he held her. As he calmed in her arms, she pulled back, kissed him, and looked into his eyes. She placed her delicate hand on his cheek, "I'm yours, Edward. I love you," she said.

He felt the arrow pierce and rested his forehead on hers, "I love you, Isa. I'll be yours, always."

He wrapped her tight in his arms and rocked them to the muted music with his face buried in her hair.

The cousins huddled just outside the club's door. They each patted Nikko on the back, as he smiled broadly.

"You each owe me a drink," he said as he rubbed his aching jaw.

.

.

The morning broke fair and after a breakfast requiring tender touches and gentle kisses, Edward set out on a day to himself. He was taking the boat out on a quest. Time was up, and there were decisions to be made.

So caught up with falling in love, he had not focused on his mother other than to realize how much she would adore Isa. Some nights he would lay awake imagining Isa and his mom walking the California beach, collecting shells, laughing in the sun with the wind in their hair. Those were his favorite dreams. But now he had new dreams.

As he sailed out into the open water, Edward had the wind at his back and the sun on his face. The beauty of the day seeped into his very soul, moving him, changing him. Here on this body of water near that mass of land, he had found his home. That the other half of him belonged to that same land only confirmed his belief—he belonged here.

With his eyes closed to the physical world, he smiled at his mother's touch, her understanding, the peace she passed to him at that moment, and he nodded in acceptance. She could go now. He was safe with these people. He would not be alone, but loved by someone he could pour his love into as well.

He kissed her cheek and wiped her happy tears and when her cerulean eyes smiled at him one last time, he opened his hand and let her go, knowing his memories of her would no longer hold that jolt of despair. He watched until she was gone and took a deep cleansing breath.

A shift under him and a whip of the wind across his face had him open his eyes just as a wave hit the small craft. He threw his body to counterbalance the wave while his mind floundered. Dark clouds roiled over his head as he fought to pull down the jib and mainsail. He secured the boom and gave the tiller its head. Another wave washed over him as he hunkered down in the hull of the boat and held on.

Careful not to tangle in the rope or canvas, he pulled a part of the sail over the hull to keep out as much water as he could and held on as wave after wave washed over him battering the boat lost at sea.

Time was forgotten as Edward clung to the hull in the limbo of the storm's making. His mind flashed to his home on the California coast, to his mother in her bikini and shorts, the sun on her shoulders as she laughed, the cottage in Italy and the soft hue of the Italian sun. The first time he saw Isa, the first kiss, the piercing of his heart, the last time his kissed her, her last smile.

A rogue wave hit and rolled the boat to its side. The mast hit the water and Edward scrambled to get a hold of the failing vessel.

As his bleeding fingers began to slip, Edward closed his eyes.

"BELLA!" he roared into the storm.

A wall of water rocked the boat and pushed him from his tenuous safety. His lungs filled with water on impact. Lightning flashed overhead as, coughing and gagging, he struggled to swim against the wind to get back to the wreckage of his craft. As he flailed, he saw a wave hit from his direction, righting it in the brutal storm. He felt the water give under him, and a swell propelled him.

With a tentative grasp, a second swell pushed him up and over into to the hull. The sails and ropes were gone, and he fell to the bottom of the boat, throwing up water, coughing and sputtering to catch his breath.

As the storm raged around him, he no longer felt the movement as he faded in and out of consciousness. With no strength left and his fight done, he whispered one last time into the water puddling the floor.

"I love you, Bella."

.

.

Leda braced against the marble-framed window, white-faced and silently sobbing. She had beheld the beauty of the mortal boy freeing his heart to let go of one love and open his heart to his forever love. Leda had wrapped him in her maternal love as he released his mortal mother. She had not seen what evil Hera would unleash on her young hero.

She watched, impotent with rage, as the storm rolled over the tiny vessel taking control of her mortal boy. Zeus pulled her back to the safety of Mount Olympus, and now she stood devastated as the boy raged in futility for his love so newly found.

As the boy gasped taking in water, Zeus stepped up behind his love, wrapped a strong arm around her slender waist, holding her shaking frame against his broad chest and with his right hand sent a lightning bolt straight into the center of the storm.

He smiled behind her as she gasped. Her nails dug into his broad arm, clinging to him as Poseidon released her sons Castor and Pollux to bring the boy back to his boat and as Hera's anger raged, Leda and Zeus's boys held the vessel safe.

.

.

It had been a long fishing trip. Charlie and his brothers had just skirted the storm that rolled in and had moved south to a day full of slack nets. Dirty and weary, Charlie wound his way up the streets with hopes of a kiss, a warm meal, and bed. He shuffled into the kitchen to find a pacing Renee wringing her hands. He stepped into her path wrapping his arms around her.

"What is it?"

Her face, full of worry, relaxed as she sighed against him.

"It's Isa," she said.

When she felt him tense around her, she hurried on. "She is worried for Edward. He was out on his little boat when the storm came. He should have been back long ago, something bad has happened. You need to find him." Her eyes flashed before she added, "He is important to her and so to our family, Charlie."

"I don't want anything bad to happen the boy, but I don't want to like him, Renee. He's not best for her," he said dropping his gaze.

Renee watched her brawny husband with his tender heart and his stubborn head and smiled.

"He is not for you to like, Charlie. He is for her to love."

He looked into the tender gaze of his beloved and conceded.

He smiled ruefully and allowed his lips to linger against hers before replacing his cap and walking back through the door as hungry as he came.

Winding through the narrow streets toward the marina, Charlie walked with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, lost in thought. From the moment he touched Renee, so many years ago, tasted the sweetness of her lips with that first stolen kiss, his life had not been his own but wholly hers to twist and turn with her whims. He had been lucky that she loved him as much and built his life into something rich, full of honor and pride—love. Isavela was an extension of her, a second helping of Renee with which the gods saw fit to bless him.

His steps slowed as he found his second blessing looking out to the horizon, and as he approached, her sorrow surrounded him.

They stood silently, side by side, looking out across the smooth expanse of water. The sun, all but extinguished, left a soft glow over the sea, and the long night of worry ahead loomed before them.

She surprised him by wrapping her arms around his bicep.

He leaned his head against his daughter's and gathered himself.

"Why do you feel so strongly for this stranger, my child?" he asked.

She took a moment before answering, "I feel a pull toward him. It's a need to see him happy, to find happiness with him." She shrugged, "I didn't ask for this," she paused before adding, "but I did ask for him. In my heart, I prayed for the right man, and I believe he is the gods' answer to my prayers."

He smoothed his hand down her hair flowing over his arm. "How do you know he's the answer?"

"My heart can't see beyond him," she whispered.

He sighed, thinking of his beautiful wife, but said nothing.

She squeezed his arm and looked up at him. "He's like you, Papa—a good man who, I think, knows how to love. He sees the value in Mama," they shared a smile at this, "and in me."

His face sobered in the dim light, and he spoke his heart. "He will take you from us."

She shook her head and whispered, "Impossible, you're in my heart beyond the last heartbeat."

Charlie held his little girl tight to him, clinging to these last moments with her, and then reluctantly released the woman who had already given her heart to another.

He turned her to face him and with his large rough hands placed lovingly on either side of her face he said, "We will find him, and you shall have him, my sweet Isa."

His eyes blurred with tears as he heard her whispered sob. "Thank you."

With his father's heart broken, he turned them toward home. He would find her boy in the daylight, but tonight he would find solace in his wife's healing arms.

.

.

The morning found the café closed and the bustle of a family preparing for battle. The women moved about the kitchen making breakfast and packing lunches for the troop of men who would be searching the coast for their American with the little blue boat.

As the women worked, they would pat Isa and give encouraging smiles. She worked stoically alongside her aunts and mother, knowing staying busy was better than wringing your hands and waiting.

When the men sat down for breakfast, the room grew quiet. "Léte tin prosefchí , Athan. Échete perpatísei aftó to drómo prin," (You say the prayer, Athan. You've walked this path before.) Charlie said as he clasped his rough hand over his wife's resting on his shoulder.

As the family bowed their heads, Isa felt Nikko's large hand envelope hers and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

.

.

The sun was just breaking over the water as the men made their way to the marina. They were breaking into three groups and taking three boats in different directions to cover as much of the coast as possible. The authorities had been notified, and their search would be underway soon as well.

Renee organized the women with phones and lists. They covered the Greek coastal businesses and hospitals first, and then to spread to the mainland and surrounding countries.

In the early afternoon, the boat carrying Charlie, Nikko, Athan and his boy Joseph was skirting the inlet south of Kassiopi when Charlie's phone rang.

"Charlie, I think we found him!" Renee's voice shouted through the phone.

All eyes were on Charlie. He looked at each one with cautious hope, "Where?"

"There is an unconscienced foreigner; perhaps British or American at the Ospedale Centralino in Triggiano, Italy. He was found washed ashore after the storm. Do you think, Charlie . . .." Renee finished with a sob.

"Italy—so far—it's more than we have found along our shores. Tell Isa to get the ferry times to Bari and we'll go on the first one." The men were smacking backs with relief rocking the boat in the process. He smiled and added, "The men will continue the search while Isa and I go see if it's him."

Athan plopped down, and Nikko wrapped his arm around his shoulder. "It will be good to bring our new son home, yes?" Charlie looked into the watery eyes of his brother and sank into the sadness of soul only a surviving parent can own.

Charlie swallowed thickly and patted Athan's shoulder, "Yes, brother, I hope we can do just that for our Isa."

Joseph, in the wheel house, began turning the boat for home. "For Isa!" he shouted. The other men laughed and wiped their eyes and repeated the battle cry, "For Isa!"

.

.

Charlie reached over and patted Isa's hand across the car's console. She had been quiet on the eight-hour trip. Charlie had enjoyed the speed of the large ferry, but Isa seemed lost within herself. He tried to imagine a younger version of himself grieving for a lost Renee and could not even skirt the edge of the black hole that evoked. Weakly unable to find empathy for his beloved daughter's plight, Charlie resorted to lovingly patting her in awkward sympathy.

"Eímaste edó , Isa," (We're here, Isa.) Charlie said as he pulled into a car park adjacent to the multi-storied building.

He turned off the engine and rubbed his face. "Tha eímai mazí sas , Isa. Emeís tha kánoume aftó mazí." (I will be with you, Isa. We will do this together.) He squeezed her hand, and she gave him a brave smile as a tear dripped from her chin. He squeezed again and released her hand. "As páei na párei nearó ándra sas." (Let's go get your boy.)

They were referred to three different nurse's stations before they were asked to wait. Charlie held her hand and as a white-coated doctor approached them Isa's hand grasped white-knuckled onto his.

In Italian, they carried on a broken conversation with the doctor. The young foreigner had been found near Triggiano by some octopus fisherman in the early hours the day before.

He was awake now and holding down food. They gave him an antibiotic in his IV to stave off pneumonia after aspirating sea water and had some cuts and bruising but was otherwise sound.

"Possiamo vederlo?" (May we see him?) Isa asked.

"Oh si, certamente. (Oh, yes, of course.) The young doctor patted her hand and smiled at Charlie before asking them to follow him.

Isa hesitated for only a moment before pushing the door open. Edward lay in the lengthening afternoon shadows. His hands were bandaged, and Isa saw stitches on his forehead and upper arm. There was bruising scattered over his upper torso, but he looked sound and to her, beautiful.

Her sob had his eyes crack open, and he slowly held his hand out to her. Charlie squeezed his cap in his hands as Isa ran to her love's side.

Charlie stepped closer as Isa cried on Edward's arm and Edward smoothed her hair awkwardly with his bandaged hand.

"Are you good?" Charlie asked.

Edward smiled and kissed Isa's hair, "I'm great, now, Charlie—thank you."

Charlie nodded and with a sniff, slapped his cap on his thigh. "Good, very good, welcome back, son."

The two men held each other's gaze before Charlie turned and left the room.

Edward stared at the closed door for a long moment before a kiss near his ear drew him back to her.

"Hi," he said.

Isa lifted her wet face and smiled, "Hi."

He kissed her wet lips, tender from crying. "I've missed you, my Bella."

She laughed and sniffed loudly, "I've missed you too."

He took a deep breath and winced, "You were with me in the storm—I love you," he whispered.

A sob escaped, and she kissed his dry lips. "I love you—always, Edward."

"I'm going to rest now. You'll be here?" he murmured drowsily.

"I'll be here," she sighed.

Charlie peeked into the room to Isa clinging to the boy's arm, sound asleep. He took a picture and sent it to Renee knowing the whole family would see it. This boy was family, no matter what his feelings. His wife and brothers had claimed him. His daughter breathed him. There was really nothing left for him to do but to claim him too. Edward Cullen was Karolos Kyknos' family. He looked at the bandaged hand resting on his daughter's shoulder, and the content smile resting on her lips and smiled. He was all right with that.

He quietly stole into the room and sat in the seat next to her. The creak of the chair woke her, and she sat back brushing her tangled hair from her face.

"Papa," she said sleepily.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into his side.

"I will miss you, my Isa, but I am happy that you have found love," he whispered as he placed a reverent kiss on her forehead.

"Miss me?"

He sighed, running his weathered hand lightly up her arm, "You are a woman in love, Isa. You will go where he goes."

Silence lay between father and daughter as the truth settled between them.

Edward's dry voice broke through the stillness, "Maybe, as a man in love, he will stay where she is."

.

.

Back from the hospital and his holiday over, Isa brought him breakfast as she had for the past two weeks. She kissed his head as she placed a plate heavy with fried eggs, sausages and cream cheese pie before him. He absently wrapped his arm around her waist as he looked down at the daunting sight.

"That's an awful lot of food, Bella," he said.

She patted his shoulder, "You're going to be gone all day. You will need the fuel."

"You know, no matter how much you feed me, I will never swell to Nikko size."

She laughed and laid her cheek on the top of his head. "Thank the gods for small mercies."

With an air of determination, he picked up his knife and fork, pointing his knife at the seat next to him.

She sat down and stole a sausage from his plate as he dug in.

When they returned from Italy, the family had gathered around them in celebration. The idea of Edward staying in Greece was announced by Charlie and the family rallied.

Yesterday, Edward checked out of his hotel room across the road and moved into Athan and Lydia's spare attic room. He was going to work on Lambros' boat for the rest of the week and on the weekend, he was going to the Yacht club with the cousins to help with their crew.

He told Aro he would accept his place on the crew of next year's regatta but that he would need a married man's quarters.

"Are we still going to Illusions with Nikko tonight?" he asked before taking a bite of pie.

She laughed, "If you can still move after working the nets all day and if you two can behave."

"Your kiss will revive me, my Bella," he cooed wiping his mouth with his napkin before leaning in for her kiss. "And I'll behave if Nikko does." He added before stealing another kiss.

.

.

Zeus stood at the water's edge with his left arm protectively around Leda. Poseidon broke the surface with his trident in hand.

"He was a son of the sea, brother. You should have led with that," Poseidon grinned.

Zeus chuckled, "I thank you for your assistance and Leda wishes to bestow a kiss upon you."

"May peace reign in your kingdom, good Poseidon," she said as she kissed his cheek.

Zeus pulled her back to his side and stretched his lightning bolt far over the water. Poseidon smiled as his trident touched it.

.

.

The two lovers walked along the shore after a day of working on his new boat, My Bella. She would be ready for launch soon. Isa wanted him to paint it blue, like his first boat. And he smiled as he picked paint out of her hair as they walked.

As the sun broke through the clouds, a rainbow appeared half on land, half on the sea.

"A rainbow bridging land and sea is a good sign," Isa said as Edward wrapped his arms snug around her.

He kissed her softly, "We don't need luck, my Bella. We have the blessings of the gods."

"You think?" she asked wrinkling her cute little nose.

He kissed it, "I know," he whispered against her lips.

She gave him a sweet little peck, and he pulled her to him, claiming her mouth, with an ever growing need, a burning, consuming love that would keep them warm for a lifetime.

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