‘No, little maid,’ Ares murmured against her mouth. ‘Thisis love.’
And he spent the rest of his life proving it to her.
EPILOGUE
ARESLOUNGEDONa blanket in the olive grove just below his castle in Greece, keeping a watchful eye on his son, Niko. The boy had just learned to crawl, and Ares could already tell he was going to be the kind of child who got into everything and caused havoc for his parents.
He couldn’t wait.
Not far away, his little maid was playing with her nephew and twin nieces while her brother, Castor, looked on. He and Glory were visiting, and Ares found he quite enjoyed their company, even though he had a healthy disdain for men from the islands, which Castor was. Glory, however, was a delight, and it was true that Castor loved his sister very much, which was a point in his favour. As Rose loved him.
But Castor didn’t love her as much as Ares did.
He’d sold his company, and after much discussion with Rose, they’d both decided to invest the money in the mountain villages of his homeland, giving back to many of the poorer communities. Naya would have liked that, he was certain.
Rose had also taken some of his money and, along with Castor, had founded an organisation dedicated to helping the victims of human trafficking. She was very, very good at it, and a fierce advocate.
But what was most important was that she was happy, and he knew because she told him so every day. Just as he told her the same thing. And he was. He’d never thought he would be again, never thought he would have deserved it, but Rose had shown him that he did. She had given him the courage to realise that despite all his talk of legacies and memorials, he’d been doing exactly what she’d accused him of: living in his grief. Using it to keep himself protected, because he knew grief. It was familiar. It was safe. But loving again wasn’t, especially loving someone different. Loving Rose was like exploring an undiscovered country: it definitely wasn’t safe. There were threats everywhere, and yet also such beauty. Such joy. Such happiness.
He didn’t regret a moment of it.
Niko had reached his knee and gripped it with chubby fists, pulling himself up onto his feet for the first time, and grinning madly at his father.
And Ares felt his heart grow bigger, beating strong and hard behind his ribs.
He smiled at his son, and when he looked over at Rose to draw her attention to Niko’s brilliance, he found her already looking back, her golden eyes full of light.
She smiled, glowing in the late summer afternoon, the slight breeze blowing the red dress she wore against her figure, the little bump that was their second child already visible.
His heart beat stronger, harder.
She’d restarted that heart again, his little maid.
She’d made it beat.
And every beat was love.