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As they returned to the car she caught the look of deep introspection on Ares’s face as his gaze lingered on his father.
And once again a heavy tingling took hold of her nape.
CHAPTER THREE
‘WHERE ARE WE GOING?’ Odessa kept her gaze fixed ahead, her poise admirable as they drove through the absurdly ostentatious gilded gates that guarded the entrance to the Santella estate.
It was a reasonable question, and Ares was surprised she hadn’t asked before now, but now that she had it irritated him a little. He wanted to ask why she cared. Surely anywhere else on earth was better than what she’d just left behind.
He wondered if she would’ve lobbied any other man for opportunistic deliverance if he hadn’t been present.
The very idea shot icy repugnance through his gut.
From the corner of his eye he watched her nurse her sore wrist, anger and that spurt of disquieting protectiveness unsettling him all over again. He tightened his fist, stamping out the urge to take her hand in his, to soothe the bruise. For one thing, his father’s speculative glance was growing heavier by the minute.
While he mostly confided heavily in his father, he was curiously reluctant to divulge his innermost thoughts to his parent just now.
Perhaps because he still wasn’t sure just what his intention was? Or because the very idea of it unnerved him in the extreme and yet he couldn’t rid himself of it?
He shifted in his seat, eager to dislodge the knot that had anchored itself to his chest, resisting the urge to grit his teeth when it refused to budge.
‘We’re flying to Rome,’ he answered eventually. ‘I have business to take care of there tomorrow. Then we’re heading home to Athens. After that...we’ll see.’
Eyes widening a touch, she nodded serenely, her posture almost regal. ‘Okay, but...’ She paused, her gaze darting to Sergios.
Ares knew why she’d hesitated, and was glad of his father’s presence. It bought him time to deliberate over this rash decision. To decide whether the prime piece of real estate in Porto Novo he’d handed over to Flávio Santella—warehouses worth two million euros—was worth the headache he’d just landed himself with. Quite apart from that, and more concerningly, the absurd, unconscionable notion that had rocked him just now was one he needed distance from as quickly as possible.
‘We’ll discuss the details later...when we’re all rested.’
Irritation sparked across her face, curiously making him want to laugh. True, he wasn’t usually one to crave rest with deals waiting to be made—especially when it was barely mid-afternoon. He’d closed more deals in the hours between when most people clocked off for the day and midnight than he could count. But he wasn’t about to dissect his decision now.
He watched her glance out of the window, then shift her whole body until she was looking through the rear-view mirror at the gaudy, oppressive mansion where she’d grown up.
Before he could stop himself, he cupped her chin, redirected her focus to his. ‘No looking back,’ he said. ‘You will look forward from now on.’
He’d meant it as an order, yet it emerged gruff and low, as if infusing her with a strength he didn’t owe her. And, like in the bedroom, her wide silver eyes darted to his and held. The punch those eerily beautiful eyes packed sent an alarming jolt through him.
He removed his touch before he did something insane...like caress her smooth skin one more time.
He’d done enough of that today.
His father’s smug look once she’d faced forward sent tingles through Ares’s body. Tingles he ignored, thankful that Sergios, for whatever reason, was choosing discretion over his usual exuberance. But he couldn’t forget the vehemence with which Sergios had demanded to come to Elio’s funeral, his eagerness to search out his ex-boss’s daughter.
The journey to the private airport was thankfully short, but the breath of fresh air when he stepped out did nothing to uncoil his tension or remove Odessa’s alluring fragrance from his senses.
He stalked away towards his plane, leaving his father chatting to her as he boarded. Choosing a solo armchair, he drew out his phone and busied himself with business as they took off and winged their way towards the Italian capital.
Ares knew his tension wasn’t making things better, but he couldn’t help himself.
Thee mou, it grated to remember that he’d never been able to help himself all those years ago, when infatuation had led him down a dangerous path. But he was his own man now.
And this time she would dance to his tune.
Two hours later, he stopped out of the shower in the penthouse suite at the Bella Regenciana on Via Labicana. The iconic building that overlooked the Colosseum held a particular significance to him. It’d been the first substantial deal he’d lost to a more ruthless competitor when he’d first tried to acquire it. Five years later he’d bought it for cents on the euro, when the greedy, severely over-extended mogul had lost everything.
These days he was used to having the last laugh.
He didn’t feel like laughing when he entered his bedroom and saw his father lounging on the plush sofa opposite the bed.
