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Ares’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel and a growl rumbled from him. ‘It was foolish of me to underestimate how much he wanted you.’
The words were laced with regret and thick fury as he roared into the driveway of his Athens home.
Before she could think about exiting the car he was there, scooping her into his arms once again.
‘Ares, I can walk,’ she protested.
‘I’m aware,’ was all he said as he stormed through the front door, held open by his subdued, patently concerned housekeeper. A few other household staff lingered, but Ares ignored them, mounting the stairs two at a time and heading straight for his suite.
There he set her on the edge of his bed, then strode off towards his bathroom.
With a minute he was back, minus his jacket and shoes.
The sight of Ares crouched before her, his face set in rigidly bleak lines as he slowly pulled off his T-shirt, snatched at her already fractured breath.
He tossed it away, then without a word spoken grasped the hem of her dress and started to draw it up.
Her hands flew to cover his. ‘What are you doing?’
A flash of distress crossed his granite features. ‘I need to see for myself that you’re unharmed. And I’d really like to wash that bastard’s touch off you. Are you going to fight me on this, Odessa?’
The intensity in his gravel-rough tone juddered through her. And, since the second part was what she wanted too—what she would’ve done had she been alone—she shook her head.
Mere seconds later the dress was off, and he was tossing it away. Her bra and panties followed, and then she was caught in the sizzling net of his thorough scrutiny as his hands and eyes raked every inch of her body. When he reached the grazed skin on her knees, a garbled sound left his throat. His eyes were near-feral before he sucked in a calming breath. Still he muttered words under his breath she was sure weren’t meant for polite company.
Rising, he scooped her up again, tucking her high against his chest, his eyes locked on hers.
‘This is the second time he’s put his hands on you. There won’t be a third,’ he vowed, with a dark rumble forged in fire, brimstone and retribution.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ODESSA WAS TOO consumed by the sensation of his near-naked body against hers to form words. And, really, what could she say that wouldn’t tip this man still hovering on a dangerous precipice over the edge?
Was it only a few hours ago she’d teased him about his Neanderthal tendencies? She was witnessing them in full effect now. And, since they both needed time to come to terms with a day filled with glorious highs and disturbing lows, she let him work his way through his emotions.
He did that by first cleaning her grazes and then, leaving his boxers on, urging her beneath the warm shower. He washed her with a gentleness that brought another lump to her throat, quickly washing himself thereafter. Then he towelled her hair dry and wrapped her in a soft, thick cotton robe.
Once again taking her in his arms, he returned to the bedroom.
A tray had been delivered while they were in the shower.
Ares placed her in the middle of the bed and tugged the covers over her just as his phone began to ring. He glanced at the screen, and grimaced. She followed his gaze, saw it was his father.
His reluctance to leave her evoked a melting sensation she couldn’t for the life of her harden. But perhaps it was okay, just this once, not to fight it so much. To bask in his care and attention to ease her ordeal.
‘It’s okay. Answer him. I don’t want him to worry.’
A layer of his tension visibly evaporating, he nodded.
Their conversation was mostly in Greek, but Odessa didn’t mind. It gave her time to collect herself, to permit the hovering relief that she was safe. That her baby was safe.
A soft sound left her throat as she collapsed against the pillows, unable to quite shut out the worst-case scenarios whizzing through her brain. Her hand sliding over her belly, she sent up a fervent prayer of gratitude that none of them had come to pass.
It took a moment for her to realise that Ares was silent. That his gaze was fixed on her, and the same emotions she’d felt were reflected in his face.
She struggled upright, her heart thumping at the force of his reaction. An emotion she absolutely didn’t want to read into for her own peace of mind.
‘Is he okay?’ she asked instead, deflecting the heightened atmosphere between them.
