‘We agreed to a month before Ellen entered into the equation, and when Danica seemed much less settled,’ Bea pointed out quietly. ‘She’s like a different baby now. You don’t really need my help any more.’
The words were a form of acid in her throat. She tried to hold his eyes, to look brave and unconcerned, but she couldn’t. She focused on the water instead, blinking several times to push back an overwhelming rush of emotion.
‘We agreed to a month.’ The words cracked around them harshly. ‘I expect people I do business with to uphold their end of a deal. Are you trying to renege on our agreement?’
It was the reassurance she craved but in the strangest possible sense. This was so much more than business...wasn’t it?
Doubts and uncertainties warred within her. She had no experience with men to compare this to, no idea what she’d wanted him to say. It was an indication that he didn’t want her to leave though. Shouldn’t that be enough?
‘I’m not reneging,’ she denied and, despite her best efforts, the words were softened by hurt.
He swore in his native tongue, coming to stand between her knees, looking up at her face intently. ‘Do you want to go home?’ he prompted, his own expression impossible to interpret. He was evidently far better at shielding his emotions than she was hers.
Home.
It was a strange word to employ, because it spoke of a sense she’d never known in her heart. Only as Ares asked the question did Bea realise she’d never actually thought of anywhere as home.
‘I will not keep you here against your will.’ The words seemed cut from glass, each sharp and cold, with the power to wound. But to wound who? His voice softened. ‘And I will not sever my relationship with the London Connection. You do not need to stay because you’re afraid of repercussions.’
It wasn’t losing his business she was afraid of now; it was losing herself.
‘Did you ever intend to fire the agency?’ she asked quietly, moving her gaze to his face.
‘Clare has managed my interests better than I can imagine anyone else doing,’ he admitted finally. ‘I never let my personal feelings enter into a business decision. Having made a single mistake in two years would have been a pretty poor reason to fire her.’
Bea’s heart felt strangely light. ‘So you were just using Clare’s absence as leverage over me?’
He lifted his fingertips from the pool, dribbling a little water over her knee. ‘I use whatever tools are at my disposal to achieve what I want.’
‘And what did you want?’
‘To get to know you better.’
Her ears were filled with a rush of noise like a tidal wave. ‘Why?’
His frown was swift; she almost missed it. ‘I can’t say.’
‘Why not?’
‘I mean I don’t know,’ he corrected quietly. ‘You were different, somehow.’
‘Different to what?’
He braced his hands on the pool coping, pushing up effortlessly and holding himself there, a feat of abdominal control that even in that moment she didn’t fail to notice. ‘I was fascinated by you,’ he corrected, brushing her lips with his, sending arrows of need through her body, arrows that almost drove all other thoughts from her mind. ‘You were a contradiction and I wanted to understand that.’
He dropped back into the pool, resting his arms over her legs.
‘And do you now?’
‘No,’ he answered immediately. ‘If anything, the more I get to know you, the less sense you make.’
Her hazel eyes flared wide, surprised by that analysis. ‘I think you’re looking too hard. I’m actually very simple.’
His laugh was disbelieving. ‘Liar.’
She dipped her fingertips into the pool, dribbling water over his shoulder before dropping her hand to his flesh, tracing invisible circles there.
‘Stay the full month,’ he said quietly, his eyes probing hers. ‘So that I have more opportunity to make sense of you.’