Page List


Font:  

‘I’m fine,’ she promised. And then, because he seemed genuinely worried, ‘Better than fine, in fact.’

His smile was her reward. It shifted across his face, changing his features completely, so, for a moment, all she was capable of was staring. ‘I’ll be back.’

She was tempted to make a Terminator joke but he was gone too quickly. When Ares returned he was naked, holding two glasses filled with a pale amber liquid.

‘Scotch?’ She wrinkled her nose.

‘You don’t like it?’

‘I’ve never tried it.’

‘That seems to be the theme of the night,’ he quipped, placing the glass on the edge of the bath before he stepped in, taking a seat opposite her. The tub was large—easily able to accommodate them both—yet their legs brushed and she was glad. The contact was a different sort of intimacy. She welcomed it and cherished it even as her own warnings swam through her mind. She knew she could balance the physical delight of his presence against the mental knowledge of his impermanence in her life.

Not just his impermanence. Everyone’s. The unreliability of other people. Bea had sworn a long time ago that she’d never depend on another soul, certainly not for something as important as her happiness. She would enjoy this moment while knowing how fleeting it was. Convinced she could balance those beliefs, the germ of an idea flared in her belly.

‘So, I’ve been thinking,’ she murmured, reaching for the Scotch glass, her voice level despite the buzz of what they’d shared.

‘Go on.’

His tone was cool, muted, and she hid her smile behind the glass.

‘Perhaps I will stay here for a month.’

He tipped his head back and laughed, a deep noise that reached inside Bea and squeezed her tummy.

‘I mean, not just because I really, really like what we just did,’ she said with a lift of her shoulders.

‘Of course not,’ he murmured, mock serious. ‘This would still be purely business.’

‘Oh, absolutely. I might even have to call you Mr Lykaios from time to time,’ she said, tilting her head to the side as she considered that. ‘Or sir, if you’d prefer.’

He grinned, finishing his own Scotch before placing the glass on the edge of the bath and moving closer to her.

‘As your self-appointed instructor in all things sexual, that does seem appropriate.’

‘You mean there’s more to learn?’ she enquired with wide eyes.

‘Oh, Beatrice, so much more. Where to start...?’

As always, he woke with a start, a sense of foreboding knotting in his gut that drew him immediately into consciousness. It didn’t ease when he became aware of the warm, naked body at his side, her soft brown hair fanned across the pillow, stirring needs within him that should have been well and truly satiated by the night they’d shared.

On the streets of Athens he’d slept with one eye open, aware that danger could come at any point and that if it did it would be his responsibility to defend them both, to protect Matthaios. It was an alertness for danger that could only be eased in one way: control.

Ares didn’t lose sleep about his business interests because he oversaw every single aspect of his empire. No matter was too small to escape his attention. In his personal life it was much the same.

Everything was on his terms, always.

The women he dated understood that—he made sure of it. Just as he had with Bea. He’d been crystal-clear.

Despite that, he felt a deep, dark worry that he might hurt her. He couldn’t say why, but he had the strongest sense that there was something within Bea that needed protecting, a vulnerability she desperately tried to conceal, but which he nonetheless sensed.

He wouldn’t hurt her.

They’d both acknowledged what this was, and he’d been open about the limitations of it. They’d even put an expiry date on her remaining with him. Surely that was some form of insurance?

Fighting a strong desire to wake her with the kind of kiss that would lead to so much more, he slid out of bed and dressed quickly, dragging on some low-slung jeans and a black shirt. If Danica woke he didn’t want the crying to disturb Bea—she needed to sleep.

At the door, he took one last look at her. She was so beautiful and peaceful, so...trusting when she was asleep.


Tags: Clare Connelly Billionaire Romance