Chapter Six #2
Strange, but Ares had almost felt…guilty.
Because the truth was that he was assuming and thinking about her.
So hard his head hurt. As much as his body.
Ever since he’d laid eyes on her. And your hands.
He gritted his jaw to stop that flood of memories.
And he was certainly not imagining her right now, peeling off the knee-length cut-off jeans that hugged her high firm ass like a second skin, or the plaid sleeveless shirt that she’d tied at her waist. Or the plain flat sneakers on her feet and the cute little silver or gold anklet around one impossibly slim ankle.
A bell rang and Ares looked up to find the object of his thoughts standing in front of him holding another shiny bag, smiling. ‘Lunch? There’s a salad bar nearby.’
Ares stood up and picked up the other bags. ‘Lead the way.’ Ares knew he was being a grim asshole but the sunnier she was, the grimmer he got, because if he cracked and let one ounce of that sunshiney lightness in, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t disintegrate completely.
Just before they reached the restaurant though, a couple emerged, shouting volubly at each other.
They were having a fight, the woman gesticulating angrily.
They walked away, down the street, still arguing, and Ares moved to let Cassie precede him into the restaurant but she wasn’t moving. Or smiling.
He looked at her. Her gaze was fixed on the retreating couple and her eyes were wide. Her face was blanched of all colour. She looked stricken. Or winded, as if someone had just punched her.
An unfamiliar sensation gripped Ares’s insides…concern? He reached for her arm and put a hand around it. Not even that shook her out of the trance. He squeezed gently, ignoring the way her arm felt under his hand. ‘Cassie?’
Eventually she averted her gaze and looked at him. And blinked. Ares was frowning now. ‘Cassie? Do you know those people?’
She blinked again and seemed to come back from a long distance. ‘Who?’
Ares jerked his head in the direction of the couple who he could still hear. ‘The people having a fight.’
Colour seeped back into Cassie’s cheeks and she avoided his eye now. ‘No, of course not.’ She moved into the restaurant, dislodging his hand from her arm.
They settled into a booth in the restaurant. Ares put Cassie facing the view again, less chance of her being recognised. And watched by others who could recognise a rare beauty? He scowled. But his mind was still on that weird little moment outside.
Before he could ask her about it though, she was saying, ‘One day the wind will change and your face will stay stuck like that.’ She smiled cheekily and then she put a hand to her mouth and took it down and said even more cheekily, ‘Oh no, that’s what already happened, it’s too late!’
She collapsed in a fit of giggles at her own joke and Ares couldn’t help it, he felt an alien warmth spreading into his chest and his mouth tugging up and wide.
The strange moment was gone. Maybe he’d imagined it?
She looked impossibly young and lovely and yet all grown up too.
A woman. Who hadn’t yet been touched. Not even that reminder could stop her infectious mirth from reaching out and winding around him like a benevolent breeze urging him to just… unbend a little.
She pointed. ‘Oh my God! I’ve done it. I made you crack. And all it took was—’ once again she inspected that bare wrist, and looked back at him ‘—forty-eight hours? Is that a record? Has anyone beaten me?’
‘Ha ha,’ Ares said, feeling testy but also zingy.
The waiter came and took their orders. When he’d left, Cassie said, ‘Lunch is on me, I insist. For that rare smile alone. I mean, I get it, you’re in security. It’s on brand to look hard and tough and humourless…’
Ares wanted to glare at her but he couldn’t quite manage it.
Was he really so humourless? He suddenly felt weary.
As if he’d been carrying a weight he hadn’t even recognised until this moment.
He had been humourless for a long time. Since the kidnapping.
Since it had become so painfully apparent that his parents couldn’t have cared less if he lived or died.
Since the chasm had grown between him and his brother and sisters because he couldn’t articulate what had happened to him.
Before he could let it go completely he said, ‘What was that back there?’
‘What was what?’ Cassie looked at him, eyes wide and innocent. He didn’t trust it for a second.
‘You know…the couple arguing and your reaction like you were taking it personally.’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing. I just…had a moment. Déjà vu, or something.’
Then, before he could ask any more about it, she grinned and leaned forward. ‘Hey, guess what I found?’
Ares tried not to let his gaze drop to the vee in her shirt where he knew he’d see the swells of her perfect breasts encased in lace. Or maybe nothing. Maybe she wasn’t wearing a bra. His body jumped at that and blood rushed to his groin. He shifted.
He indulged her even though he had the definite sense she was distracting him. ‘What did you find?’
She sat back, triumphant. ‘A tattoo parlour.’
Ares shook his head. ‘No way, you’re not getting a tattoo, not on my watch.’
Cassie shook out a napkin with a flourish as their salads were delivered. ‘I’m afraid to burst your bubble but you can’t stop me. I’m a grown woman and you’re literally not the boss of me.’
‘No, but I am your protector.’
‘Well, you can protect the entrance of the parlour while I’m inside. It won’t take long. It’s not a big tattoo, I promise.’
Ares put his hands up. ‘I’m not the one who’ll be under the world’s lens with everyone debating the meaning of ink on your unblemished skin.’
She cocked her head. ‘You think my skin is unblemished?’
Yes, damn her, every toned and golden inch of it. Ares cleared his throat. ‘It’s not becoming of a queen.’
Cassie speared some cheese and popped it into her mouth, saying, ‘Well, it’s a good thing I’m not queen yet, isn’t it?’
‘And did your parents never teach you not to eat and talk at the same time?’
Ares was surprised at the way her face momentarily fell, before she brightened again and swallowed her food before saying, ‘No, they were too busy engaging in domestic warfare. But our nannies did their best, if they lasted long. Caius did tend to wear them out.’
Ares picked up on what she’d said and saw the arguing couple in his mind’s eye and her reaction to it. ‘Domestic warfare?’
Cassie’s brightness dropped a few volts again and it was as if the sun disappeared behind a cloud. He hated to admit it but he didn’t like it.
She said breezily, ‘Forget I said anything, a slip of the tongue.’
To avoid thinking about that tongue and how it had felt tangling with his, Ares said, ‘They didn’t get on?’
Cassie looked at Ares warily. ‘Did Caius ever talk about it?’
He shook his head. No, they hadn’t talked about family.
Because Caius was in the realm of arranged marriages, or had been, and Ares had no intention of inflicting the Drakos name on children he would inevitably mess up.
His own parents hadn’t even tried to save him when he’d been in peril and the rest of the time they’d had a series of cold and aloof nannies—how the hell would he know what to do?
In their worlds—his, and Cassie’s to a greater extent—children were born to continue legacies or bloodlines. He had no desire to inflict that on a child.
He’d carved out his freedom and on that note he could actually empathise with Cassie. He knew what it felt like to want to break away.
‘Well, there’s not much to tell, except that…’ Cassie stopped and blew some hair out of her face, which only drew Ares’s eye to her finely etched jaw and high cheekbone. Those pouty lips.
‘Look,’ he said, regretting drawing her into this, ‘if you don’t want to—’
She cut him off. ‘They despised each other, that’s the truth. They fought all the time. It was like a minefield living with them. They both had affairs. They crucified each other.’
Ares went still. He could see it all too easily. ‘That’s what happened back there, wasn’t it? Your reaction to that couple fighting.’
She shrugged minutely. ‘I hate seeing people shouting at each other.’
Ares guessed it was more than that. Her response had been stricken, as if they’d shouted at her.
His parents hadn’t actively hated each other but they certainly hadn’t loved. Not that that even existed.
Cassie went on, ‘When my father died in the skiing accident, my mother went on holiday with her latest lover, after pretending to be griefstruck for the cameras of course. And when she died a few months later, everyone said wasn’t it so romantic, that she obviously hadn’t been able to live without him. ’
Ares heard the cynicism in Cassie’s voice. And something more hollow. Disappointment?
‘What had you expected?’
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. ‘Was it too much to expect parents who respected each other at least and who showed the minimum of care for me and my brother?’
‘No,’ Ares said quietly. ‘Everyone deserves that.’
With a mocking tone that didn’t suit her, Cassie said, ‘And some even get more than that, parents who actually love each other and who love their children.’
Ares bizarrely felt like comforting her. He pointed at her. ‘Now that is way too much to ask for. That’s just an urban myth.’
Cassie smiled but it was small and made Ares miss her full wattage. But wasn’t this just proof that being in close proximity to him was only going to dim her light? Something moved through him, a need to restore Cassie’s ebullience.
He called for the bill and when Cassie looked at him quizzically, he said, ‘Well, if you’re going to fit in a tattoo and delivering all that shopping back to the boat before going out tonight, we’d better move.’