‘It was a strange way to grow up,’ she agreed, careful not to reveal more than was necessary. ‘They thought they couldn’t have kids, so I was spoiled rotten when I first came to live with them.’
Most people would focus on that, wanting the details of just how much people like Ronnie and Alice would give their daughter. People were, in Bea’s opinion, always obsessed with the minutiae of a celebrity’s life—how were they like ‘normal’ people and in what ways did they differ?
Not Ares. He wasn’t so easily diverted by the mention of fame and fortune.
‘And then she fell pregnant and everything changed for you,’ he prompted, recalling their earlier conversation, on the night they’d arrived at Porto Heli.
‘In many ways.’ She lifted one shoulder. ‘Anyway, as I said, I really don’t like to talk about my family.’
‘I let you get away with that once, but not again.’
She blinked, surprised.
‘I want to understand you,’ he reminded her. ‘And I suspect this is at the root of your mystery.’
‘There is no mystery,’ she demurred with a quick shake of her head.
‘Why did you decide to study law?’
The subject change was so swift it almost gave her whiplash.
‘I was good at it.’
It was a throwaway comment but the expression on his face showed something else, as though he was sliding another piece of a puzzle into place. She angled her face, hating the sensation of being a bug beneath his microscope.
‘I imagine you received a lot of praise for that,’ he said thoughtfully.
Bea pulled her lips to the side. ‘I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.’
‘You received accolades for your academic achievements?’
‘I mean, I graduated with a first, so in that sense, yes.’
‘And your parents? They were proud?’
The pain was as fresh as when she’d called to tell them her results and her mother had spoken over the top of her to announce that Amarie had started dating a Hollywood actor.
‘We think they might get engaged soon! He’s so delicious, darling.’
‘Of course they were,’ she lied.
Without even turning to look at him, she knew he didn’t believe her.
‘Are you someone for whom good grades came easily?’ he asked.
‘No.’ Oh, how she hated the bitter tears that were flooding her throat. She swallowed desperately. ‘I suppose I have a bent for the law—it came more easily to me than, say, mathematics did. My mind definitely works a certain way. But I studied hard, to the exclusion of everything else. I was determined to—’
He waited for her to finish the sentence.
‘To do well,’ she finished lamely, not wanting to admit to him that making her parents proud had indeed formed a huge part of her motivation.
‘And you did,’ he said gently. It wasn’t praise. It wasn’t congratulations. And yet hearing him say those words warmed some small part of her, so she blinked her eyes and smiled, a weak smile pulled from her soul.
‘Thank you.’
He lifted a hand, running it over her hair, his eyes following the movement of his fingers. ‘I used to look at people like you and think you had it all. I would jealously watch university students with their books and rucksacks, their easy lives, and wish more than anything that I could trade places. I desperately wanted to be able to study. I thought people like you had it so easy.’
‘Compared to you, I did,’ she murmured softly.
‘I don’t know if that’s true.’ He moved closer, his lips brushing hers. ‘There are many things besides food that people starve for, agápi mou.’