Blue as the ocean, he thought looking into her eyes.
Blue like the sunlight reflecting off the breaking waves. From the bottom, of course. His view was always of below. Even when he was above, he thought only of how things looked below. The sea showed humans its surface, but for gods and queens of men- queens like this Sally Jackson- nothing was as it seemed on the surface.
He knew he shouldn't. He'd sworn he wouldn't. Well, who was to say the seed would take? Artemis had never been a particular enemy of his. Maybe the woman was barren. This woman, this queen among men.
"Sally," he whispered into her neck. "Sally." He liked the sound of it, a sound like the wind through dune grass.
Just once more. Just one. The last, he told himself. The very last, and who was to say the seed would take? Then he could sink back into the blue and forget her- if he could in fact forget her.