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‘Ne, it is,’ he agreed, not shying away from the throb of emotion in his voice.
The flash from another camera drew her attention from his building and he was both irritated by the distraction and a little jealous of her open admiration for what he’d built.
He wanted her to look at him that way. Not to see the layer of wariness in her eyes when she glanced at him.
He wanted to be done with this opening that had attracted some of the most influential people in the Middle East and from around the world, all of whom wanted a piece of architectural history.
A deep sense of urgency gripped him all through the launch, but he throttled it down. Odessa, along with the design team, deserved her due for a magnificent job.
Pride filled him as he listened to gushing accolades about the decor his wife had helped create. As he watched her blushingly accept her due.
His wife.
That thing shifting and settling within him as he thought of her not as the woman carrying his child but as the woman he’d once imagined making a life with felt heavy.
Moving.
Significant.
And right.
Have faith.
Yes.
It was a huge relief when he claimed her four hours later, tugged her arm once more into the crook of his and firmly stated that his pregnant wife needed to rest.
‘Thanks for that,’ she murmured as he walked them towards the magnificent doors and into the foyer of the tower. ‘My feet are killing me and my back feels as if it’s made of concrete.’
He led them into the lift and pressed the button marked ‘Odessa Penthouse’.
‘Then you won’t mind if we spend the night here and go home tomorrow.’
‘So we get to break in the tower?’ she asked, eyes wide. And then a heated blush swept into her cheeks. ‘I mean...’
He laughed, welcoming the brief relief to the churning unease in his gut. ‘I know what you mean, eros mou. And, yes. We’ll be the first to spend the night in Odessa Tower.’
His voice felt thick from the arousal surging through him, and he didn’t bother to hide it. She looked infinitely delicious, and the hunger sweeping through him was fast reaching untameable levels.
It was both a relief and a torture to step into the privacy of the penthouse. Relief because he had a little breathing room to think, and torture because for the first time in his life he was terrified of how the next hour would go.
They stepped into the spacious and lavish caramel, silver and gold living room in time to see the night sky explode in bright colour.
‘Oh, I forgot about the fireworks!’ Odessa exclaimed.
Suppressing a groan, Ares crossed over to the extensive liquor cabinet and poured a glass of alcohol-free champagne. Returning to where she stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, he handed it to her, and then, simply because he couldn’t help himself, he trailed a hand down her jaw and neck, fighting the punch of emotions as she shivered and swallowed.
She wasn’t immune to this, he reassured himself. She’d boldly told him she’d prove him wrong in their agreement. That he’d regret it. And he did now. Surely it wasn’t too late to make them a real family?
The tightening in his chest didn’t ease when she raised her glass, then gasped at a particularly vivid firework, her eyes gleaming...
Ares wanted to experience these significant moments long after tonight.
‘Aren’t you having a drink?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘I’ve had enough of toasts tonight.’
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Chomping at the bit to get on to the next project already?’
