Naya wouldn’t have wanted you to require payment, though.
Ares stared down at his vodka, Ivan’s voice a low drone in the background.
No, she would have wanted him to help Rose without requiring anything in return. Especially when Rose probably had nothing whatsoever to give him.
Ares swirled the vodka around in his tumbler, frowning at it, conscious that the unfamiliar feeling of anger collecting in his gut was getting stronger.
Anger at Ivan and the audacity of the man for sullying the memory of his daughter by buying and selling a young woman. He only had Rose’s word for it that Ivan had bought her, but there was no question in Ares’s mind that she’d been telling the truth. There had been nothing fake about the desperation in her eyes.
So, while his unexpected emotional response was disconcerting to say the least, there was no other option but to help her, regardless of whether she could pay him or not. Naya’s memory commanded it.
It wasn’t personal. He wouldn’t do it because she’d touched him emotionally in any way, or because of that inconvenient spark of desire she’d ignited. He was dead inside, and nothing could reach him, least of all one little maid.
But Naya had been his conscience for years now and she was as ever his guide.
He would help the little maid for her, because she would tell him it was the right thing to do.
The little maid would make a good wife, though.
Ares’s thoughts drifted.
Oh, she would, that was true. She was clearly a woman with backbone and the first to spark his interest sexually in years, and he suspected she was also fierce. She didn’t seem to be afraid of his scars, or him either.
If he married her, he also wouldn’t have to go through the tiresome process of finding a suitable woman elsewhere. He could, of course, but he didn’t want to devote any time or energy to what was a relatively minor issue.
And although they hadn’t exchanged a word with each other before today, he felt as if he almost...knew her. He’d watched her for two years now, going about the task of cleaning with such focused intensity it was as if she was heading into battle.
Would her approach to pleasure be like that too?
Ares dismissed the thought almost as soon as it had entered his head. It was an extremely inappropriate one to have about an imprisoned woman. Naya would not only be disappointed, she’d be appalled.
‘Are you listening, Ares?’ Ivan asked sharply.
‘No,’ Ares said without looking up from his vodka. ‘How much do you want for the little maid?’
There was a shocked silence.
Ares lifted his gaze from his tumbler.
Ivan was giving him a narrow look. ‘What little maid?’
‘The one who cleans out the fireplace in my room every year when I visit. Blonde. She said her name was Rose.’
A strange ripple of expression crossed Ivan’s craggy face. ‘What do you mean how much—’
‘I know you bought her, Ivan, don’t bother pretending you didn’t. So how much for her?’
He didn’t want to get into a discussion about where Ivan had got her, or why. What was important now was getting Rose away as quickly as possible.
Ivan’s mouth worked but nothing came out. Then he looked down at his tumbler abruptly and took a healthy swallow. ‘I already have a buyer for her.’
No, indeed. The little maid had not been lying.
Ares swirled his vodka in a leisurely movement, betraying nothing of his thoughts. He might have told himself that rescuing Rose wasn’t personal, but his anger certainly was, which surprised him and not in a good way. He’d thought his emotions dead and gone and quite frankly he preferred them that way. It did make things simple and he liked simple.
However, he sensed that nothing about this situation was simple and now it was about to get even more complicated.
‘Have you? Then I will double whatever has been offered for her.’ Buying her wasn’t ideal and he suspected Naya wouldn’t like it, but it was the quickest way to get her out and with the minimum of fuss.