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His gaze rested on her for an age before he said, ‘Enjoy your walk. I’ll see you at dinner.’
The moment he stepped out, Odessa wanted to call him back, to say she’d changed her mind about lunch with him. She pressed her lips together to stop exposing herself so completely, watching as his tall, imposing stride carried him away, several heads turning as his magnetism drew lesser beings to marvel at the god walking among them.
The vehicle pulled away and she found her own hand replacing Ares’s on her stomach, awe tunnelling through a kaleidoscope of emotions. In less than nine short months she would be responsible for a baby. Would need to nurture it in a way she hadn’t been nurtured. A way her mother hadn’t been allowed to care for her because of her father’s unreasonable archaic notion that a daughter was useless to him.
Odessa felt calmer knowing that, whatever its gender, Ares would do right by their child. His relationship with his father set her own heart at ease in that respect.
But not the fact that he prejudged her ability to be a good mother.
Was he right?
She pushed the idea away, desperately quashing the pain that pushed into her chest. She would move mountains to ensure her baby’s happiness.
‘Where do you wish to go, Kyria Zanelis?’
The driver’s question cut through the raucous jumble of her emotions. Taking a deep breath, she glanced out of the window. One god currently dominated her life. If she didn’t stand to lose so damn much Odessa suspected she would give in a fraction. Okay, maybe more than a fraction. She was woman enough to admit to herself that she enjoyed Ares’s earthy brand of domination.
But not with the stakes this high.
Noticing that the driver was still awaiting her response, she forced a smile. ‘I want to play tourist for a while. Then maybe find a park?’
He nodded. ‘Of course.’
Traffic slowed their journey, but it was worth it when they reached the Temple of Athena Nike. Even more jaw-dropping was finding Ares there, leaning against a powerful, gleaming black motorbike, his suit swapped for hip-hugging jeans, T-shirt and black leather jacket.
Every feminine nerve sprang to attention. ‘I only just left you...what are you doing here?’ she asked as she stepped out.
He shrugged. ‘I’ve decided I’m a much better tour guide.’
She rolled her eyes at his sheer arrogance, while her insides strummed with unfettered delight. ‘I thought you had work to do?’
He waved it away. ‘My meetings can wait.’
He handed the driver the bike’s keys in exchange for the SUV’s and for the next hour proved his claim, offering titbits of history and salacious gossip she knew she’d never read in any history book. And because he was Ares Zanelis, he naturally had exclusive access at every monument, heightening an already unforgettable experience. And through it all he held her hand, drifted his fingers down her arm to direct her attention to where he wanted, pulled her close when other tourists invaded their space.
He called a halt exactly one hour later.
Stepping out of the SUV to admire the spectacular view from Lycabettus Hill, she ignored the tingling in her nape as she breathed in deep, smiling when her stomach started to growl at the tantalising scent of cooking.
‘What’s that smell?’
Ares smiled. ‘Souvlakis. Hungry?’
She nodded. ‘Can we get some, please?’
‘Of course.’
They’d stopped near a small park, with walkways interspersed with busts of gods set on pedestals.
Ares stepped out too. ‘The vendor’s just across the street. I’ll be right back.’
Odessa had wandered over to the first pedestal when that tingling from before returned. Before she could turn to verify the source of her uneasiness her arm was grasped in a crushing hold, her captor frogmarching her towards the car park.
‘Did you really think you could get away from me for ever?’
She shuddered at the cruel, too-familiar voice. And if the bruising grip hadn’t been enough to tell her, she looked up into the livid eyes of Vincenzo Bartorelli.
‘No, you can’t be here—’
