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When they were alone again, he said, “We argued, but ultimately, I knew it would make no difference. She’s moved to Australia, and I believe she’s happy there. I certainly wish her well.”
Silence—a little uneasy—fell. He reached for an oyster, simply as something to do.
“Do you still love her?”
It was a question he couldn’t easily answer. A month ago, he would have said yes, without hesitation, but over time, he’d started to wonder if it had really been love or rather relief. Because Louisa had beenperfectfor him. The right background, coming as she did from the aristocracy. She was smart, spoke multiple languages, was discreet and trustworthy, and they were, most importantly, very good friends. They had loved one another, but it hadn’t been in the catastrophically overwhelming romantic sense. It had been a safe, reliable, friendly affection.
And as for the physical side of their relationship, he saw now how perfunctory that had been.
With Sofia, it was like his soul was on fire whenever they were near one another.
Chemistry, he realized, had been totally missing with Louisa.
“It’s complicated,” he said after a beat. Loyalty to Louisa had him fighting the truth. To be so honest, even with Sofia, and admitting that he wasn’t sure he’d ever really loved Louisa, seemed callous and shallow. “I’m glad she left, and I hope she’s happy.”
Her lips twisted to the side. “Something you’ll say about me in a couple of days?” she prompted.
The question knocked him sideways, mostly because hearing those words from her lips drew a totally contradictory response from him.
In fact, he knew he would never say those things about Sofia. Never.
Oh, he wanted her to be happy, but in his heart of hearts, deep down, in the part of himself heneverallowed his brain to go, he wanted that to be here with him.
It was the desire of Ares the man, not the King. It was a want that he would deny himself because his role and duties demanded that of him.
“Sofia,” he said, reaching for her hand with urgency this time. “I want you to know that if things were different…if I was not the King…”
Her eyes met his, round and awash with feeling. To his surprise, they clouded then with tears. “Please, don’t say it,” she turned her hand over and squeezed his. “Don’t say something you don’t mean.”
“What if I do mean it?”
She shook her head. “You mean it now, but who knows what the future holds? Don’t make promises that it might take me a lifetime to forget.” She lifted his hand to her lips, and he felt then the most searing pain of rejection he’d ever known. Far worse than when Louisa had walked out on him. Sofia was shutting him down, even before he could offer her what was a totally insufficient version of what he was starting to realise he felt. “Weboth know what this is, and why it has to end.” She kissed his hand then replaced it on the table and withdrew her own.
“This looks delicious,” she said, a moment later, her voice over-bright, despite the tears in her eyes. “What do you recommend I start with?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
AS THEY WALKED, HAND in hand down the moonlight beach, back towards the helicopter, Sofia thought how appropriate it was to have, in her mind, the image of an hourglass, with the sand tilting from one side of the glass to the other. Time was passing—the night was almost over.
A perfect night, capping off a perfect week.
If I was not the King…What had he been going to say?
It didn’t matter.
Whatever words followed that sentence would have become like a noose around her neck, offering a glimpse of a life she could never have. It wasn’t practical, that had been his point. But even if it had been, even if there was some way to take what they were doing and make it last, Sofia would run a mile from that, because the fear of losing Ares would dominate her completely, and in turn, it would petrify her.
She’d come too far, had taught herself so perfectly how to rely on no one. She couldn’t weaken now.
This was a test—the toughest she’d ever faced—but she intended to pass it with flying colours.
“You told me this morning that you don’t date.”
She jerked her gaze up to his. They’d been walking in silence, with only the crashing of the waves to listen to. Her thoughts had been tangled in their relationship; apparently, his had been likewise.
“Yes?”
“Why not?”
