As if she’d shocked him with her gesture he took it, wrapping her much smaller hand in his. She noticed his palms felt a little rough and that sent another electric jolt right to a spot between her legs. She pulled her hand back. ‘OK, thanks, bye now.’
She turned to go in the opposite direction but then the man said, ‘Wait. Where are you going?’
Cassie stopped and turned around again. She had to admit helplessly, ‘I don’t actually know. I’d like to have a drink and a dance but that place was just…awful.’
‘There’s not much better here but I know a spot if you’d like to have a drink with me.’
Cassie hovered uncertainly. Had this man been telling the truth? If she accepted his invitation was she in fact being incredibly stupid and naive and jumping from the frying pan into the fire?
She imagined if her sister were here and braver than Cassie, more spontaneous. Before she could think about it too much she acted on instinct. ‘OK, yes.’ She smiled and his eyes widened. He was looking at her mouth.
Then those dark eyes moved back up and with almost a scowl on his face he said, ‘Come on.’
Cassie was totally bemused. This man had clearly not been born with the charm gene and yet perversely it was what made her feel safe to go with him.
He led her over to where a motorbike rested at an angle. A proper motorbike. Not a scooter as most people used here. Cassie loved motorbikes. Caius had secretly taught her how to ride them when she was much younger. The royal staff would have had collective heart attacks if they’d known. Their parents probably would have been too busy arguing to notice.
The man took a helmet out of a back compartment and handed it to her. She put it on. Then he put on his own helmet. He got onto the bike, the movement stretching the denim material over his thighs. Cassie’s legs suddenly felt a little rubbery. She realised—as if someone had just punched her—this wasit. She was experiencing desire. Lust. Attraction. She’d spent years wondering what it must feel like and now she knew. Like a fever.
He was sitting on the bike looking at her, holding out a hand. ‘Use me for balance, put your foot—’
‘I know,’ she said, stepping forward to put the ball of her foot on the footpeg. She ignored his hand, putting hers on his shoulder and stepping up, lifting her other leg over the body of the machine, sitting down.
She slid right down in the hollow between them until her body was flush against his, breasts pressed against his broad back. His very broad and strong back. It felt so much more formidable when she was pressed up against him like this.
He turned his face towards her. ‘Wrap your arms around me and hold on.’
Cassie didn’t need any encouragement. These last few seconds had been the most exciting of her life to date. She wrapped her arms around his lean torso and with a roar of the throttle that scattered people around them, they were off.
What the hell are you doing, man?The voice in Ares’s head wasn’t his, it was Caius’s, and he scowled inside the helmet. His logic had been: Get the princess out of that situation and then…when she’d been about to walk away it had been: Keep her with you so you know where she is. Keep her safe.
But as he roared along a coastal road now, with her arms around his waist, hands linked together, all too close to a part of his anatomy that wasveryreactive to her proximity, Ares had to admit that his motives had been much more instinctive and less altruistic. Completely unprofessional.
He had sent off a text to Caius though, just before he’d gone over to disrupt the nefarious plans of those idiots, telling his friend that he had located her. And…she was technically under his protection for now.
So yeah, taking her off to a quieter part of the island to have a drink and a dance was totally acceptable. Ares leaned into a turn in the road and her hands tightened around him, making his erection twitch. He gritted his jaw and resisted the urge to take one of her hands and put it between his legs where he throbbed for her. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had turned him on this easily. She was no mere woman. She was a queen in waiting. A totally out-of-bounds woman. And yet, apparently, blonde Disney princesseswerehis type.
Doubts assailed him again. This had been a really stupid idea. He should have just told her who he was and that she was under his protection until her team were back in place. As soon as they stopped, that was what he would do and then he would take her back to her hotel.
The bike stopped and Cassie took the helmet off, shaking out her hair. They were on the edge of a gorgeous little marina/harbour with houses and buildings jostling along the edge, all different colours. Bustling bars and cafes, restaurants. People sitting outside eating and drinking. A very faint sound of disco music coming from the other end of the stretch.
Night had fallen properly now and a crescent moon hung in the sky like a bauble. Stars twinkling.
It was a world away from the over-touristy place she’d been. Using her hand, she balanced on him and got off the bike. Her legs felt wobbly as the adrenalin left her system. She avoided looking at the man as he got off the bike and took off his helmet. She suddenly felt shy. It had been so intimate, wedged up against him, her hands wrapped together just over his—
‘Where is this place?’ she asked, hoping he wouldn’t see how it had affected her.
‘It’s Rethymno, a little quieter than where we were.’
‘It’s lovely. Quaint. And yes, quieter, thank you.’ She cast a glance at him and felt heat climb into her cheeks. She could remember how flat and hard- muscled his torso had felt under her arms. How she’d wanted to undo her hands and slip one under the material of his shirt.
He said, ‘Look, I need to tell you—’
For some reason Cassie didn’t want him to finish his sentence. She stuck out a hand and said, ‘I’m Cloe.’ She mentally crossed her fingers at the white lie, assuring herself that one of her nameswasactually Clotilde, so it wasn’t a total untruth.
He looked at her for a long moment and then he took her hand, saying, ‘I’m Ares.’
Reluctantly she took her hand out of his, liking it far too much. ‘You’re Greek?’
