Chapter Five
‘Bethan?’
‘Mmm?’ Bethan stretched languorously and snuggled deeper. She knew this was a dream, but now she was finally on the edge of sleep, she didn’t have the strength to resist responding to the sultry whisper.
‘Bethan.’
This time impatience iced the heat she’d heard. She blinked blearily and clocked Ares standing beside her bed, coffee mug in hand. Full consciousness slammed. Not a dream. A disaster. She swiftly sat up, pulling the coverings with her. ‘What’s going on?’
He set the mug on the table beside her and stepped back, his arms folded across his chest. ‘I thought about what you said and you were right.’
Only Ares could concede a point with such an air of imperious condescension.
‘Of course I was.’ Still dazed, Bethan reached for the coffee and racked her brains before soon capitulating. ‘Which bit was I right about?’
His grin flashed too briefly. ‘I don’t want you to go to dinner parties in Athens with me this week. Because I don’t want to go to them. I never do. It’s long been a source of friction with my family and is partly why they wanted me to take a wife who would conform to their social requirements.’
Bethan studied the steam rising from the coffee as she processed that. ‘You never went to those dinner parties?’
‘I went to some years ago but haven’t in years. The family wanted me to do a lot of things I had little interest in.’ He paused for effect. ‘Like Sophia Dimou.’
Heat surging in her cheeks, she glanced up in time to see his smug smile.
She’d been so jealous of that beautiful young woman for so long.
And she’d assumed he didn’t want to take her to fancy dinner parties because she wouldn’t fit into their rarefied society—the horrors of high-school tormentors had long ago destroyed her self-esteem in that area.
‘Anyway, the simplest thing is to spend this week at the villa on Avra,’ he said.
‘What?’ She jerked, splashing coffee on the back of her hand as all thoughts of Sophia fled.
He frowned and snatched up the towel she’d left draped on the back of a chair. ‘It’s private, the weather is better and the time will pass quickly.’
Um. No. She did not want to return to that villa. At least, not with him. She’d tried to forget its beauty but couldn’t. Hell, she’d even made artwork based on her memories of it.
‘You’ll be working here in Athens,’ she muttered as he firmly took her hand and wiped away the scalding coffee.
It had only been a splash, there would be no mark, but she didn’t seem to have the strength to tell him, or take the towel and do it herself.
‘Oh no. I’ll be there with you.’ He inspected her skin—too close, too concerned, too much. ‘We’ll leak some pictures to prove our ecstasy.’
She curled her fingers and slipped her hand free of his. ‘But you have a gala to organise.’
‘It’s already organised—not by me—and I can do my work remotely. I’ve done that before, if you recall.’ His smile was sharp. ‘It’s perfect, no?’
‘Not for me, no.’ She groped for a reason to reject his plan. ‘I have work to do.’
‘And you can do it on the island.’
‘Unlike you, I need more than a computer. I need supplies. I have a half-finished piece—’
‘You mean a prop? I’ll send the jet to get whatever you need from London. Let’s just get to the island and arrange it from there.’ His gaze hardened. ‘We’ll go by helicopter. It’ll be faster.’
She gaped. He knew about her work. ‘I don’t have—’
‘Whatever it is you need, Bethan, it can be bought.’
And that was where they differed. He thought money could buy anything. But it couldn’t. Not what she really needed.
Two hours later she gazed at the stunning view of sapphire waters dotted with emerald and topaz islands.
It was heart-rendingly beautiful—a true paradise.
And then Avra came into view. They passed over the small village clinging to the top of the steep hill.
That first day they’d sat in the shade at that quiet taverna for several hours.
He’d help her book a room at the adjacent hotel so she could stay the night.
One night had turned into a week. She’d been amazed that the place wasn’t overrun with tourists.
He’d told her the rich stayed at resorts, not the small villages, or visited briefly on their luxury boats.
That not many ‘ordinary tourists’ made the difficult journey to get there, given there were party islands and equally picturesque places that were far easier to get to.
Back then she’d been the kind of na?ve person who took people at face value and believed what they told her.
It was almost a week before she’d learned the truth—that the truly wealthy—like him—had their own private resorts.
Because he moved her into his enormous property.
The stunning villa overlooked the coast, enhanced by terraced gardens and patios, an infinity pool and spa and a gorgeous curling path that led to the sheltered postcard-perfect beach.
It was at that beach where the local mayor had married them in a fifteen-minute ceremony, having expedited the paperwork for his favourite resident.
When the helicopter touched down, Bethan stepped out and quickly moved clear.
The gardens were still gorgeous—the plants those hardy herby sorts that thrived in heat and salt-kissed sea air.
The villa was as stunning as she remembered too—white walls, warm stone, the neutral furnishings creating a cool yet cosy feel.
The place was restful yet also designed for play.
She knew there were water toys galore in the boat shed just up from the beach.
Paddle boards, snorkels, jet ski, a solo-handing sailboat and more.
..she and Ares had used them all when they’d been here last. Their love for the water was probably their one true commonality.
Aside from a hyper sex drive. Although that she’d only discovered with him. Because of him.
She drew a breath. There would be no repeat of those mistakes—that ‘magic’ couldn’t be recaptured. They’d taken a holiday fling too far and at the same time held too much back.
‘You take this room.’ He slung her small bag inside the bedroom they’d shared. ‘I prefer one on the other side.’
He walked out before she could argue. Her cheeks scalded as she gazed at the enormous bed. They’d had their wedding night here. She’d barely slept.
Needing to splash water on her face, she walked through the dressing room to get to the bathroom.
She didn’t get there. She stopped, stunned at the sight of the clothing hanging on the rail.
Her dresses were still here—including the silk she’d worn while barefoot on the beach for their wedding.
Heart ricocheting, she opened the top drawer.
Her bikini was neatly folded on the top—the black and white animal-print one she’d thought herself so bold in buying for that once-in-a-lifetime holiday.
All of the clothes she’d brought with her and the ones he’d bought her in that time were still here—not just the wedding dress but the lace shawl she’d admired in the local village.
He’d arranged for her to spend time with the woman who’d made it for an afternoon and it had been amazing.
Breathlessly she ran a flannel beneath cold water, battling the sinking feeling she was right back where she’d started—trapped inside a total infatuation.
Just being near him destroyed her brain but she couldn’t let herself fall for him again.
She knew now how good at masking he was—that he was cold inside.
And yes, calculating. His desire for her to be at the gala was calculating and while maybe he had valid reasons, her understanding them wouldn’t make him any less so.
The fact was his work mattered more to him than anything.
More to him than family. He’d not loved her the way she’d needed to be loved.
Honestly, she didn’t know if he could love anyone in that way.
That couldn’t be her problem again. She couldn’t change him but she could change herself—she had.
She’d wised up and now she just had to stay strong and understand that all they’d had was nothing deeper than intense physical chemistry.
But she couldn’t let herself have him again because then she would want the more he couldn’t give.
She’d lost enough already and now she had a good life that she wasn’t going to jeopardise just for lust.
She stuffed her notebook, pens and knitting into her tote.
She would continue working on the blanket for Phoebe’s baby, maybe start a jersey and sketch props ideas.
She’d been bluffing about having urgent work.
If she kept busy the time would go quickly and—heartbreakingly—she’d always found this place creatively inspiring.
Assuming he’d be working in the study, she went out to the infinity pool.
And skidded to a stop. In swim shorts and nothing else, Ares was clearly about to dive in. But he caught sight of her and didn’t.
His gaze nailed her to the spot. As did his beauty. It was so unfair that he was this lethally good-looking.
‘All okay?’ he asked.
She nodded, battling the intensity of his scrutiny, unable to bring herself to ask why he’d kept her entire wardrobe here. It wouldn’t have been for any special reason. He’d probably just been too busy to be bothered.
‘Um.’ She needed an escape. ‘I’m going to work in the lounge, it’s too hot out here.’
He was too hot.
‘There’s a studio you can use if you would prefer,’ he said. ‘Your own space. This way.’