Anger shifted inside him at the note of censure in her voice and the hint of disapproval in her golden eyes.
He shouldn’t let it get to him, but his company was Naya’s memorial, her legacy, and she’d be proud of what he’d accomplished, all the people he’d helped. It was not for Rose to judge.
‘No,’ he said, more terse than he’d intended. ‘There are times when governments cannot be seen to intervene in a country’s problems but need to in order to protect people. We help rescue citizens, protect civilians and try to contain dictators. Protecting the innocent is our aim, so do not be so quick to judge.’
Rose scowled. ‘Well, how was I to know any of that? All I have to go on are a few articles on the internet that don’t say anything, because you don’t talk about yourself.’
She has given an awful lot of herself to you, while you have given her nothing.
All his muscles had gone tight, and he was very conscious of a defensive anger that he didn’t want coiling inside him, along with a deeper guilt that he also didn’t want.
Mainly because it was true.
‘I did not think you would be interested,’ he lied, trying to ignore both the anger and the guilt, and failing. ‘Why I built my company doesn’t matter anyway.’
But she didn’t back down, because of course she wouldn’t. ‘Of course I’m interested. You’re my husband and I want to know about you. Wasn’t that the whole point of spending two weeks with you every season?’
Ares scowled, the anger inside him gathering tighter and for no discernible reason. He didn’t understand why his usually perfect control was frayed as old rope. So she’d got a little closer to the subject of Naya than he was comfortable with, and now she was pushing him harder for answers. So what? He could ignore it, couldn’t he?
‘My past is irrelevant,’ he said curtly. ‘For your purposes, all that matters is that my company makes me a lot of money. Money that you are enjoying right now.’
Sparks glittered in her eyes. ‘I don’t want your money, Ares. I never asked for it. I never asked for any of it, if you recall.’
But no, he wasn’t having that. ‘You did, though, little maid. Don’t you remember? You asked for my help. You insisted that I marry you, and then agreed to my terms. I never forced anything on you.’
Some part of him was aware that the conversation had got out of hand somehow, and he didn’t know how or why, but they were both angry and neither wanted to back down. And he suspected that it went deeper than what they were actually talking about, and that there was something they were both skirting around.
She is making you feel things again. She is making you remember what it was like to have a heart, and you do not like it.
But he didn’t have a chance to think more about that because the bright little sparks in her eyes became embers, burning bright, and that was the only warning he got. Her fist came out like a shot, and she punched him squarely in the stomach.
He grunted and went back a step, muttering a curse in Greek because despite her size she was surprisingly strong and hadn’t held back. He could have avoided the blow and he may well have blocked it, but he let her have the hit since part of him knew he deserved it.
‘Look, I don’t even know my mother, but even if I did, that’s not a very nice thing to say about her,’ she said accusingly, the colour in her cheeks blazing. ‘You let me have that.’
He frowned, his attention caught. Had she understood the curse he’d muttered? ‘Rose, do you speak Greek?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because you understood what I said after you punched me.’ And then he said it again for good measure.
A look of shock crossed her face. ‘But I... I...we only spoke Russian in the compound. Where would I know Greek? How?’ Her fists dropped. ‘In Thailand you had a library and some of the books were in a language that looked familiar to me. I couldn’t read them, though.’
Ares shoved aside his anger and the subject of Hercules and what he had and hadn’t told her. ‘Do you have any memories of your life before the compound?’ he asked sharply. ‘Any at all?’
Rose’s anger had gone now too. She lifted a hand and rubbed at her temple. ‘The only memory I have is of looking at some kittens in a shop.’ She swallowed and then added, almost wonderingly,‘Gataki.’
It was Greek for kitten.
A surge of an emotion Ares didn’t recognise swept through him then, and he wasn’t sure why it should matter to him that she must come from his own homeland, or had connections there at least, but it did.
‘Perhaps you are Greek,matia mou,’ he said softly.
Her gaze shifted to his, her big golden eyes wide with hope. ‘Do you think?’
It wasn’t until then that he understood how much the not knowing had affected her. She’d mentioned it a week ago, that first night beside the fire as they’d discussed a potential pregnancy, and she’d been worried about her family history. Yet that had only been the tip of the iceberg, he could see now. That hope in her eyes was desperate and he hadn’t known, hadn’t fully realised, just how desperate she was for her past.
That surge of emotion, inexplicable and powerful, tightened its grip, and before he even knew he was going to say it, he said like a vow, ‘We will find out. I promise you, we will.’