CHAPTER THREE
ASHISCARpulled up outside the London Connection offices, Ares wondered for the tenth time that day why he’d insisted on doing this. He’d initially gone to Bea’s office intending to apologise and draw a line in the sand, leaving the matter behind him. Overnight, his temper had simmered down and he could clearly understand why he’d overreacted. Since his brother’s spectacular breakdown and admission to rehab, and Danica’s entry into his life, Ares had felt as though he were lurching from one disaster to another.
Clare forgetting their meeting had been the last straw and he’d taken that out on her hapless business partner.
An apology had been called for, but once he’d made it that should have been the end of it.
But the way she’d looked at him had stirred something inside him, a curiosity he couldn’t quell, and Ares was determined to get the answers he craved.
He stepped out of the car, then was striding towards her office with a confident gait, pushing the door inwards and hailing the lift. The doors opened immediately; he stepped inside, watching as the buttons indicating each level glowed as he passed. When the doors pinged open to the London Connection, he acknowledged he was actually looking forward to tonight.
It was unexpected but, given it was the first time in a month he’d felt anything other than a slight sense of panic, he wasn’t going to question the emotion. Ares Lykaios had used to feel like this before. Before Matt. Before Danica. He liked women, he liked spending time with them, and for the first time in a long time he felt a rush of pleasure at the prospect of a night spent with a woman who was intelligent and interesting. There was nothing more complex than that behind this evening. He was scratching an itch, giving himself a reprieve, distracting himself from the dumpster fire of his life for a few hours.
It was just after five and the office was still a hive of activity. He announced himself at Reception and was directed to Bea’s office. He strode towards it, pausing to read her name on the door: Beatrice Jones. Beatrice suited her better. He knocked twice then pushed in without waiting.
And froze.
She was looking out of the window, her expression—even in profile—taut, but he spared her face only the briefest of glances. Instead, his eyes roamed her body, cataloguing the effort she’d gone to—and the effect it had on him. Her hair, a soft brown, had been styled into loose, tumbling waves that fell over her shoulders and down her back. The dress was subdued and yet that didn’t matter. Somehow even the fact it was minimalistic—a simple black with a halter neck and a full skirt that fell all the way to the floor—made her look elegant and regal. When she turned to face him her expression was troubled, but she smiled as he strode towards her and any doubts about why he’d committed to this course of action fled.
‘You’re stunning.’
Her lips quirked. ‘That sounds a lot like something someone flirting with their date might say.’
‘Only a fool would deny the truth.’
‘Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr Lykaios.’
He shook his head. ‘No. Tonight you will call me Ares, as you did earlier.’
Her lips parted and the regret was back. Not regret that he was spending time with Bea, but that it was to be at a ball, surrounded by other people. This was a woman he would have enjoyed spending time with—alone. Now that would have been an actual distraction...
‘And I will flatter you whenever I see fit.’
Her eyes darted to his and then looked away again, as though she were actually panicked by the very idea. More questions.
She paused at the reception desk and Ares was aware of the eyes that were trained on them—curious staff members unused to seeing a senior member of the team dressed like this. Her cheeks grew pink at the obvious attention. ‘I’ll have my phone for anything urgent. Please call if you need me.’
The receptionist grinned, gesturing to the lift. ‘We’ll be fine, Bea. Have fun.’
‘So what is this event, exactly?’
‘It’s to mark the opening of a children’s hospital. My foundation was involved in the funding.’
‘Ah.’ She nodded, mollified by that, as it made it all the more obvious that this was, in fact, a work commitment. ‘I read about your foundation last night. You do a lot of work with children’s charities.’
‘Yes.’
‘I didn’t realise you were involved in any in the UK though.’
‘Our foundation has many partners. Often our work is indirect.’
‘Silent philanthropy?’
‘Attention isn’t exactly the point. I do not support charitable acts because I’m looking for praise.’
‘Don’t you?’
The grey of his eyes turned stormy like the ocean. ‘That’s a rather cynical viewpoint to have.’