She nestled against him, turning her face against the thick down jacket he’d pulled on to meet her, and they were both silent as he stepped from the ice to the small wooden jetty that projected into the lake, then went up some stone steps that led up to the lodge itself.
A large wooden deck fronted the lake, with big, sliding glass doors that led into the lodge’s main living area. One of his staff pulled open the door for them and he stepped through into the warmth of the living area, the door pushed shut behind him.
He didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to head straight up the stairs to the comfortable bedroom and big wooden bed and do all the things he’d been fantasising about for the past three months. But this news couldn’t wait.
He let her down and then stepped back as the staff member who’d handled the door discreetly withdrew.
She pulled off her hat as the warmth of the room penetrated, her cheeks flushed and her golden eyes glittering. ‘Were you disappointed?’ she asked suddenly.
He didn’t pretend he didn’t know what she meant. ‘That you weren’t pregnant? No.’
She’d sent him an email a month after their time in the Cotswolds, letting him know that she hadn’t ended up being pregnant. He’d told himself it was fine, that if she chose to stay with him, they’d have plenty of time to try for children, then had shoved all thoughts of pregnancy and the fact that this was the last two weeks he’d have with her before she made her choice out of his head.
They had more important things to discuss now.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘I know you wanted—’
‘The pregnancy conversation can wait, Rose,’ he interrupted, impatient. ‘I have something to tell you.’
She looked like she might say something more, but then clearly thinking better of it, merely raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh?’
‘I’ve found out who you are.’
Her face went white. ‘What?’
He’d known it would be a shock, so he took a step forward, putting his hands on her hips to steady her. ‘I know your real name, Rose.’
She stared up at him, golden eyes wide, as if she’d never seen him before her life.
‘Your name is—’
She laid her fingers across his lips, silencing him. Her face was still pale, all the light and happiness she’d shown him in the helicopter gone as if it had never been, her fingertips a gentle pressure.
You fool. Did you really have to spring it on her like that? Especially given her reluctance to talk about it over the past three months.
He’d broached the topic several times in various emails about the search for her identity, letting her know that he had considerable resources and he could help if she wanted him to. She’d replied that yes, if he could help, that would be appreciated, but it was clear she hadn’t expected him to discover the truth.
She took her hand from his mouth, then stepped away, moving over to the big open fire that stood at one end of the room. The flames burned brightly, firelight dancing over her pale face, reminding him of that night in the Cotswolds where he’d taken her in front of the fire there.
His body hardened, aware that it had been three months without her, and it was hungry for her.
He ignored it. Now was not the time.
‘It’s good news, Rose,’ he said quietly. ‘I think you’d like to hear it.’
There was another silence.
‘So, you get to know everything about me, but I know nothing about you.’ She unzipped her parka, staring down at the flames.
Ares frowned. ‘You know about me. I told you—’
‘You told me about you being in the Legion and that you’d lost your wife. That’s it.’ She pulled off her gloves, throwing them with a sudden, forceful movement onto the nearby couch. ‘You know my real name, but I don’t even know how you got burned.’
A whisper of the guilt and defensive anger he’d felt during their discussion in the gym, about his company, threaded through him once again. Guilt that he hadn’t told her anything about himself and anger because he didn’t want to.
Everything was so tangled up with Naya and he didn’t discuss her with anyone.
Anyway, he was here with the truth of who she was, and he didn’t understand why she didn’t want to hear it, or why she was making this about him.