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Even now he could hear the assistants cooing over the engagement ring he’d procured yesterday with that same driving agitation.
Was it the five years already ticking down? Was he so eager for this project to be underway? So he could see if he was dealing with the same kind of situation his mother had put him through? Or was it more that since Odessa’s vehement protests in the car last night he’d yearned for a crystal ball, to see whether she would stay true to her word? If she would deliver on some of the foolish, forgotten promises she’d eagerly made all those years ago.
And wasn’t that a hell of a thing to crave? Especially when he knew better...
And...mummy issues? Really?
He wanted to scoff at the thought, but he couldn’t deny that it was there, a glaring black hole in his life he’d never been able to distance himself from.
While he was sure some therapists would lay the blame of his reluctance to marry on his tragic situation, Ares knew it was a series of events, ending with the woman currently hidden behind heavy curtains, trying on the clothes he intended to grace her stunning body with, who’d cemented his decision never to encumber himself with a wife.
Or at least he’d believed that until her impassioned protest that she’d been attempting to save him. To place herself between him and her vicious father.
Ares shifted in his seat, the recollection dragging an unfamiliar uncertainty from him. But even if she’d meant that, he couldn’t ignore her other actions. How swiftly she’d turned away from him and into another man’s arms.
His mother’s desertion and cruelty had taught him that he didn’t need a wife or a so-called life partner to enhance his life. Hell, the lack of one would remove any threat of rejection altogether for his future offspring. Better to start off with zero expectations than harbour foolish notions, right?
Ne.
Control reasserted, he straightened as Odessa stepped out. ‘Leave us, please.’
The assistants scurried away immediately, but it took him another handful of seconds to drag his gaze from her stunning body and the control-wrecking things the black lace dress did to her figure.
He pulled up the images on his phone and turned the screen to her, watching closely as she swiped through the pictures, her breath catching as she glanced up.
‘It’s breathtaking. Where is that?’
‘Ismene—my private island. We’ll get married there a week from today. Does that work for you?’
He expected her to protest, or the very least make a show of unhappiness. To his surprise, she handed his phone back and shrugged.
‘Sure, why not. It’s not like I have any pressing engagements. It looks like a perfect place for a wedding.’ She looked over her shoulder. ‘Is there something else you want to discuss, or shall I get the assistants back?’
His fingers drummed restlessly on his thighs. ‘No, that’s all.’
She turned immediately, dismissing his presence. He bit back a growl.
‘Odessa?’
She paused, silver eyes flicking to his. ‘Si?’
He nudged his chin at the black lace dress. ‘Keep that dress. I like it.’
Satisfaction at her blush was short-lived. And for the life of him Ares couldn’t understand why his grouchy mood persisted as the hours passed.
Perhaps it was because, unlike women he’d known in the past, she didn’t gush with joy at being lavished with hundreds of thousands of euros’ worth of clothes and jewels. Or because she mostly ignored him, chatting happily to Sergios during dinner and at breakfast the next morning.
He’d saved her, damn it—in a twisted knight in shining armour situation he was almost convinced had been orchestrated by his father.
Where was her gratitude? Her hero-worship?
Hell, she’d been insultingly eager when she’d excused herself to meet with the wedding co-ordinator he’d lined up to visit before they left for Ismene. And she was equally perky on the way back home now, her interest in the local landmarks reminding him of how cloistered she’d been in Alghero.
Ares stopped himself from playing the tour guide—from postponing their imminent departure to Ismene so he could take her on an extended tour of his beloved Athens.
She wasn’t here on a sightseeing trip.
She was here to take his name, to bear his children, and then to be monitored with eagle eyes if she so much as hinted at taking a leaf out of his mother’s book.
