‘Were the needles your grandmother’s?’ He couldn’t resist asking.
‘Yes.’ She didn’t take her eyes off the wool as she replied. ‘They’re more precious to me than anything.’
Certainly more precious than the rings he’d given her and was no longer wearing.
He fidgeted uncomfortably. Love of the sea wasn’t the only thing they’d had in common. Like him she had no siblings—well, not quite like him. He’d had a half-brother—Alex—who’d died before they’d had a chance to meet. Though of course, had Alex lived, Ares likely never would have met him and his life would have been drastically different. But as it was both Alex and their father, Loukas, had died. Ares had been brought in—forcibly installed as usurper.
He’d wanted escape from all that for just a little while. So for a few days he’d explored the local bays with Bethan on his small outboard until he’d finally confessed that he owned a fleet of ships. She’d not believed him initially. That was when he’d taken her to the villa. She’d declared it paradise, the one place she never, ever wanted to leave. Tensely, he shoved that unhelpful recollection away and watched her nimble fingers. She didn’t snatch glances the way she had the day they’d met. Today she was fully in control and focused on her task—whereas he’d been too distracted to hold a razor steady this morning and couldn’t stop staring now.
Rubbing the stubble on his jaw, he sank deeper into his seat and surrendered to the overpowering need to just watch her. The pattern was intricate. She was multi-talented, any kind of craft she could master immediately. It was more than skill and practice, it was a gift. And he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt her even though they had business to attend to.
She had the fullest of mouths, the lushest of curves—her breasts were so much more than a handful and, yeah, he wasappallingbecause his palms itched now.
Rock hard, he shifted awkwardly and lifted his gaze—trying to block memory and temptation—and was instantly fascinated by the fierce concentration in her deep brown eyes.
It wasn’t until they landed that he even remembered he’d intended to discuss the settlement details with her—he was renderedthatuseless. She was dressed for business. Maybe that was howhehad to treat this. He would take her to the office and finalise everything there. Then he’d install her in a hotel room, stick a guard on her door and ensure she didn’t leave without seeing the notary tomorrow.
Bethan carefully packed away her precious needles and knitting she’d spent the entire flight working on, but the truth was she’d screwed up the pattern so badly she was going to have to start over entirely. The little blanket she was making for Phoebe’s baby was so full of holes it looked as if a swarm of moths had been at it. Her grandmother would tease her mercilessly if she were alive to see it. But Bethan had been far too aware of Ares. She didn’t know why he’d spent the entire flight wordlessly watching her but she wasn’t about to ask.
She stepped out of the plane, felt the heat—and hit—of memory. Athens had been the scene of her total devastation. Blinking away that rising emotion, she walked to the sleek car. The waiting driver didn’t meet her gaze, doubtless drilled in discretion. Unwilling to betray her nerves, she didn’t ask Ares where they were going but it didn’t take long to figure out.
The Vasiliadis company headquarters were in the heart of Athens’ business district. The stunning architecturally designed building echoed the body of a ship, reflecting the nature of the family interests. Multi-storeyed, with a water feature and an emerald lawn on one of the upper balconies, it exemplified luxury, infinite resources and glamour. Just like Ares himself and of course those magnificent boats in his luxury yacht division. As for the merchant marine side, that was pure economic efficiency and excellence.
Stiffly she accompanied him into the vast building. The receptionist tried to speak as they swept past but Ares snapped something short, immediately silencing the poor man. Bethan gritted her teeth more tightly. The gleaming elevator had no buttons. Apparently it simply recognised the supremely important occupant and immediately swept them up to the right floor.
‘Are the lawyers meeting us here?’ she asked as soon as they were alone in the spacious statement office—white and blue with unimpeded views in every direction. She’d only been in it once before.
‘Tomorrow,’ he said brusquely. ‘I’ve engaged an independent one for you.’
‘I don’t need—’
‘The court documents are in Greek,’ he interrupted tersely. ‘So you will have an independent translator as well.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘You can trust I have your best interests at heart.’
‘I don’t need you to have my best interests at heart.’
He lifted an envelope marked private from the large desk and passed it to her. ‘Here. Read it.’
Taking it, she moved away to scan the first few pages that were, thankfully, in English, mentally appreciating her superstar admin-queen friend, Phoebe, for showing her how to read legal jargon in the sale and purchase contracts for the props supplies she’d ordered. This contract had some appalling parallels. She shuffled through the sheets of paper, aghast at their utterly offensive contents, before lifting her head to glare at him. ‘This is a divorcesettlement. I don’t need a settlement.’
‘No?’ He met her accusing stare coolly. ‘You don’t want to milk me for my money?’
She wasn’t in the mood for joking. She’d been stuck on that plane in too close proximity to him for hours and she needed this to be over.Now.
She tossed the pages on the table and paced further away from him. ‘I don’t need your money or anything else.’
‘It’s been drawn up for months,’ he retorted. ‘I’m not a complete jerk, Bethan. I was never going to leave you destitute.’
‘I’m not destitute. I’m doing just fine.’ She turned back, daring him to tell her that what she earned wasn’t enough.
He thought he knew everything but hedidn’t. Yes, she’d started as a cleaner for the escape rooms Elodie managed, but Elodie had caught her repairing one of the props and invited her to work on them. She’d swiftly graduated from prop maintenance to creation. When a theatre director who’d visited the escape rooms had asked Elodie where she got her props from, she’d introduced him to Bethan. She’d then submitted samples for his next production and he’d contracted her for them and more. Her name was becoming known in theatre circles for bespoke items.
But her most precious success had been with the multi-media pieces she made for her own creative expression and joy. She had enough time, after all, to explore all the craft and trade skills she’d acquired and she’d studied more. Last year Phoebe had encouraged her to enter one into an art auction and to her amazement it had sold. Bethan had suspected that Phoebe and Elodie had clubbed together to buy it but they’d insisted that wasn’t the case. According to the auctioneer a business had bought it to put in their reception area. Bethan had been delighted and inspired to keep working on those one-off pieces. People believed they were art and maybe one day she’d hold her own exhibition. That one major success had instilled belief in her. It was one dream that might actually be possible.
Ares didn’t answer or argue—he simply bypassed her, strolling to the corner of his office. A moment later he turned back holding a platter that someone must have delivered in the few minutes before they’d arrived. His staff were impeccably trained and basically invisible with it. He set it on the low coffee table. Bethan recognised several of the meze dishes—each was associated with a memory she couldn’t cope with right now. She told her mouth not to water, but the first time she’d eaten melitzanosalata was the afternoon they’d first kissed and he’d fed her stuffed cucumber cups in the beach hut when she’d needed cooling down after a particularly vigorous encounter. Her heat rose, as did her heart rate. And with it, panic. She couldn’t think about this. Couldn’t be alone with him any more.
‘Let’s take a moment and refuel,’ he broke into her thoughts gruffly. ‘Then we’ll talk this through rationally.’
‘There’s nothing to talk through.’ She didn’t need to be treated like a child and she couldn’t stand to be near him.
