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Unsure why she’d said that, she caught her breath as she glanced up, saw the ghost of a prickling gentleness—because this man would never be completely soft—before his expression hardened once more.
They stayed like that for charged seconds before he pivoted away, leaving her to breathe freely again, to pick up the credit card holding the five thousand euros her mother had been able to secrete away and pass to Odessa to keep for a desperate rainy day.
It was definitely torrential today. And petrifying. Because she was still in the dark about the price to be paid for Ares freeing her.
‘Are you done?’
The query was gruff, but not impatient. Why, she couldn’t tell, because his face was back to being coolly distant.
A pair of jeans, a few tops, shoes and two changes of underwear packed, she snapped the case shut.
She wasn’t surprised when Ares took hold of it with one hand, his other circling her elbow as he guided her out.
Her heart lurched, then thumped, when she saw Flávio waiting in the grand hall, a false smile playing at his lips even as his eyes continued to assess her keenly, searching to see if she’d done anything to ruin whatever he’d extracted from Ares.
She knew the moment he realised he’d succeeded in whatever deal he’d struck.
He came towards her, arms wide open.
Under the pretext of kissing his niece goodbye, he whispered in Italian. ‘You’ve surprised me, niece. I didn’t think you’d manage to pull a stunt like this. Brava. You’re a true Santella after all. But don’t forget where you came from. And remember... I’ll be watching.’
‘What did he say to you?’ Ares asked after they’d stepped out into the late-autumn sunshine.
She shook her head, eager to forget Flávio’s threat. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
Now it was happening, she wanted to get away from here immediately. More importantly, she wanted to ask Ares where he was taking her, what he wanted from her.
But he was ushering her down the steps to where a gleaming limousine waited, with a sharply dressed driver holding the back door open. Ares grasped her hand lightly and helped her in, then he followed.
Odessa looked around in surprise as the driver shut the door and hurried to settle behind the wheel. ‘Isn’t your father coming with us?’
A hard smile twitched his lips as the engine started. ‘He is.’
When he didn’t expand, she glanced out of the window, then realised they were driving away from the main house, heading towards the servants’ quarters. Where he and his father used to live. Where the other staff members including the butler still lived.
The vehicle rounded a curve and stopped in front of the garages.
Odessa had avoided this part of the estate in recent years, mostly due to the man who now sat next to her.
It was in the orange grove beyond the servants’ quarters that Ares had kissed her for the first time. Where he’d touched her, whispered sultry Greek words in her ear she hadn’t understood, and made her dream the impossible.
After his departure she’d been unable to return here, the memories too painful. Plus, her father had threatened all the servants against entertaining her near their quarters, mistakenly believing that they’d colluded in her secret liaison with the chauffeur’s son. It had been better for everyone that she stayed away.
Now the memories rushed at her, so fast and furious she clenched her fingers in her lap.
‘Haunted by your demons, agapita?’ he rasped.
She tightened her grip on her composure. ‘My demons? What about yours? Or does the great Ares Zanelis not have any?’
‘Hmm, you’ve got better at deflecting...but it still doesn’t answer me.’
About to snap back with a sharp retort, she stopped as Sergios emerged, the butler following behind with his grandson cradled lovingly in his arms. Beside her, Ares tensed, his focus fixed on his father.
Inscrutable expressions twitched across his face. Odessa didn’t know why they sent trepidation dancing down her spine.
She pushed it away as a clutch of staff approached the limo. Ares watched with narrow-eyed intent when she stepped out and was immediately engulfed in hugs and whispers of farewell, well wishes that made her chest squeeze in shame. But looking into their faces she saw understanding, and—surprisingly—encouragement.
Odessa sucked in a breath when she sensed Ares behind her. He muttered in Greek to his father. The older man nodded impatiently then, turning to the newborn, brushed stiff fingers over the child’s cheek, a wistful yearning crossing his face before his trademark smile returned.
