Chapter Two
Ares remained tense, determined to stay right where he was until she agreed to come with him. It wasn’t unreasonable. Naturally he couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t disappear on him again.
She resisted a few seconds longer then sighed frustratedly. ‘Give me five minutes.’
Those five minutes ticked by interminably slowly but he needed every second to recover his self-control.
He’d almost hauled her tight against him.
Almost kissed her. Almost done everything.
In mere moments he’d almost devolved into an out-of-control animal consumed by fury and lust. So quickly she destroyed his humanity.
He counted a breath, reminding himself that he’d already been on the edge having spent those ninety minutes sitting outside that restaurant while she’d flirted with another man.
He’d gotten so annoyed he’d knocked back a drink from the car bar.
A first. But it had been only the one, so he couldn’t blame booze for threatening to fight the divorce.
That had slipped out in a moment of pique and Bethan’s fury had given him a flicker of perverse pleasure.
Shame had swiftly followed. He didn’t want to coerce her.
That would make him no better than the rest of the Vasiliadis clan—as if his blood carried calculation like poison.
The pressure they’d applied on him had been bad enough, but what they’d done to his mother was appalling.
Ares had never been able to protect her from the pain they’d inflicted, never been able to right the wrong they’d done her.
Nor the wrong he’d done her. So he would not do more wrong now.
Even though Bethan’s body betrayed her, he knew that in truth she wanted to be near him as little as he wanted to be near her.
Lust and loathing—he understood that complex feeling exactly.
But she did have to come to Greece. Briefly.
Because while they were living apart, the fact remained that without completing that paperwork, if anything happened to him she would inherit his entire estate—including the company he’d worked so hard for.
He’d not lied when he’d told her just now that it’d been convenient for him to remain married.
Being unavailable meant he thwarted the attempts of the extended Vasiliadis ‘family’ to control his life and therefore that company.
For a while it had amused him to think of his stepmother Gia’s panic at the prospect of Bethan gaining all that power.
But then the possibility of something actually happening to him had hit.
No way was he letting Bethan near his work.
Not only because she didn’t have the experience, but because inheriting a monstrosity was precisely what had happened to him.
He’d had no idea of the viper’s nest he was stepping into when he’d been ‘found’—the illegitimate heir of a selfish ass—and forced into a world where he wasn’t actually wanted but apparently needed.
He’d had to survive, not only being thrust into that hell, but that cruellest of evictions from the only home he’d known.
He’d done what he’d had to. But it hadn’t been enough.
As angry as he was with Bethan on a personal level, he didn’t want anything like that happening to her.
They’d destroy her in minutes. In one way, they already had.
So while he had zero intention of dying any time soon, he needed to devise an alternative succession plan.
And he’d long made his point to Gia and the rest of the extended family who coveted the Vasiliadis name.
He could never be controlled—would never take the wife they wanted.
He would divorce Bethan and then never see her again.
Sure as hell never marry again. He couldn’t wait.
She finally reappeared from the flat with an overnight bag in her hand.
The bastard element within him purred because she’d given in to his demand and that part wanted to demand more.
But he would retain his self-control even if it killed him.
She climbed into the back of the SUV and fastened her seat belt while he instructed his driver.
‘Are we going straight to the airport?’ she asked when he settled beside her.
‘To a hotel. We’ll fly first thing.’ He gritted his teeth as she immediately stiffened. ‘As awful as I appreciate it will be to spend time with me, this is the fastest way we get what we both want.’
There was a sharp silence.
‘Obviously I’ll pay for my own room,’ she said.
Her prim insistence irritated him all over again. ‘On what you earn?’
‘How do you know what I earn?’
He couldn’t reply immediately. That she’d been willing to work as a cleaner to get away from him flicked a deeply personal nerve he couldn’t bear to acknowledge.
She swivelled to face him. ‘How did you know where I live?’
‘I’ve always known where you are,’ he growled.
Her gaze sharpened to a death glare. ‘What?’
‘Despite the fact you’re determined to think the worst of me, I cared enough to be concerned for your well-being. It wouldn’t have been a good look if my runaway wife ended up on the streets.’
Her jaw dropped.
‘As it was you found a job and a place to live.’ He gritted his teeth again.
Her doe eyes widened with anger. ‘You’ve had someone spy on me for all this time?’
‘No.’ He swallowed. ‘I’ve just been aware of your location and employment status. No details beyond that.’
‘Really.’ She sounded beyond sceptical.
‘Yes,’ he snapped. He’d mostly ignored the monthly report he got from the private detective he’d employed to ensure she was okay.
He’d known she was thriving. That she’d moved on from cleaning.
He’d asked details about her personal life to be omitted.
He’d never wanted to know. But it had been shoved in his face tonight.
And what had almost happened outside her flat was merely an explosion of that tension.
It had been so long since he’d touched a woman.
Not that she needed to know that. But unlike her he’d been true to those meaningless vows.
Not because he was heroic or pining or anything.
He would have, had he been able to perform.
Trouble was no other woman had turned him on.
And he’d been so bitter by her abandonment, he wasn’t about to trust anyone else.
Lesson learned, finally. Ares was born to be alone and he desperately needed some other kind of stress release.
Because he’d poured himself utterly and totally into his work until his body had had a hissy fit and landed him in hospital for two completely unnecessary days of too many completely unnecessary tests.
She didn’t need to know about that either.
But it had changed his priorities. What he wanted to accomplish—now he had goals beyond accumulating more billions for the Vasiliadis dynasty. Freeing himself from Bethan was one of them. But her accusing eyes, filling her pale face, ate at the hold on his temper.
‘Why would I want to know anything more?’ he asked bitterly. ‘You walked out on me. You made your feelings abundantly clear.’
She’d left him the first moment she could. Like everyone. But he had himself back under control now and nothing, but nothing, would happen between them again.
‘Evidently you didn’t want me anywhere near you,’ he finished.
Bethan lifted her chin. ‘Because evidently you didn’t love me. You couldn’t even say the words, remember?’
He remembered. He wouldn’t, couldn’t. Her sudden question back then—her doubt—had assaulted his own certainty.
The words she’d wanted were meaningless.
As a boy he’d been told daily that he was loved.
That he was wanted. Until one day everything had changed.
Words were so easily lies. He wasn’t loved nor wanted, but both a burden and an instrument.
A weight on two households. Ares would never weaken action with words now.
* * *
Bethan refused to shatter the sharp silence. Despite the gloomy car interior she could see the flash in his eyes and the white ring about his compressed mouth. She’d angered him. Too bad.
‘I chase after no one,’ he finally said harshly. ‘Certainly not a runaway bride.’
Of course he didn’t. He’d known where she was all this time and he’d not bothered to make contact because Ares Vasiliadis was a selfish loner who didn’t like being backed into a situation he couldn’t control. He didn’t like being told what to do. Not by anyone.
She’d thought he was like her. A hard-working person from a normal background.
He’d allowed her to believe it for that first week when they’d met.
Until he had her where he wanted her already—in his arms and breathlessly saying yes to everything.
She’d been so malleable. So gullible. So easy for him to manipulate.
Because he was so used to getting what he wanted—the arrogant and entitled heir of one of the wealthiest families in the world who lived an entirely different existence from hers.
She hadn’t known any of that until it was too late—because he’d controlled everything about his situation.
He hadn’t had the decency to read her in on the reality.
He’d let her believe he cared about her.
Let her declare her passionate love for him like the na?ve lovestruck fool she’d been.
She’d trusted and willingly given him all she had.
But he hadn’t wanted her love. She’d na?vely thought his reticence to talk about his past had been part of their bonding because she too had wounds.
But it had been part of his play. She’d seen only what he’d allowed her to see, known only what little he’d been willing to share.