Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

T HE SUNLIGHT IN MORICOSIA was so reminiscent of Italy. Same Mediterranean, different aspect, but the warm golden light sparkled in a soft triangular prism of amber, through the open blinds of the stables. Snippets of her childhood filtered into Sofia's mind; that same light behind her parents, as they walked, hand in hand, and she ran in a zig-zagging path behind them, her hands outstretched so she could feel the soft heads of the dandelions as she went. Early mornings, cuddled in bed, reading with a book curled in her lap, a cup of tea on her bedside table, brought by her mother. The charming, happy domesticity of her first nine years was at such total odds with what had come after, it hurt to think back on that time. The nicer the memories, the more they made her heart ache.

There was no pleasure without pain. Or rather, all pleasure, all happiness, could evaporate at any point. It was better not to seek long-term happiness; more sensible to expect nothing, ever.

She rolled onto her side, to see Ares. She didn't know what time it was, but he was an early riser, so she didn't fear waking him, despite the night they'd had. Yet his eyes were still shut, and his mouth a little parted, showing him to still be fast asleep. A smile curved the edge of her lips, and she lay very still, her eyes hungry for this. To simply be able to stare at his face, to run over his features, was an act she had craved. He was so beautiful, but she hadn't had a chance to just look at him like this, and now, it was all she wanted.

Despite everything she'd just thought, she knew this was a moment of the same kind of sun-drenched happiness she'd experienced as a child. A perfect little moment, a bubble, that another person might want to reach for with both hands and grab hold of, expecting that bubble to last forever, to keep them warm and safe and shielded from life's tragedies. But Sofia knew better. It was just a moment, and she would enjoy it now, commit it to her other precious memories, but she wouldn't be so stupid as to hope for more.

This bubble was going to burst in a few days, but until then, she could fill the thing up with happy, happy memories, with pleasure, with joy, with the impetuosity of this secret fling. She smiled as she reached her finger out and traced the outline of his lips, so his brows drew together and he frowned a little, as though he were trying to cling to sleep, irritated at whatever was disturbing him. But then his eyes opened and landed on her and Sofia's heart did a sharp little twist when he smiled right at her.

"Good morning." His voice was a deep, hoarse tone. He cleared his throat a little. "You're up early."

"The sunlight woke me."

He looked over his shoulder at the golden beam, then back at Sofia. "We'll shut the curtains tonight." He leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder, then moved back a little.

"Tonight?"

A slight frown on his face. "We can use the stables, while you're here."

She pretended to consider that. "Can I get back to you?"

It was clear that he didn't buy it. He laughed. "Sure thing. It's your call."

She reached out and flicked his bicep. "You think you've got me eating out of the palm of your hand, don't you?"

"I think we're eating out of each other's," he corrected, moving closer and throwing one of his strong, muscled legs over her body, so they were intimately close. She loved the way he smelled in the morning; she loved the way his skin was so warm and his manner so relaxed.

"Well, in that case, I suppose I'll come back to your love nest again." She looked around as if seeing the place for the first time. "Does anyone else use this?"

"The stable manager lives here."

She turned back to Ares. "Where is he or she?"

"She," he said. "Is currently in Australia, with two of our horses, preparing for their racing season."

"Ah. Are there other horses here?"

"Yes."

She nodded thoughtfully. "And staff?"

"Yes. But no one will come up here."

"But there's a risk they could see us leaving?"

"I'm not concerned about that."

She frowned.

"But if they were to see, and tell the press…"

"Firstly, we'll leave separately. Secondly, my staff would not sell stories about me."

Her lips pulled to the side. "That's pretty trusting. What does a stable hand earn, Your Highness?"

"I don't know," he said, frowning, as though this was something he should have at his fingertips.

"Not much, I'll bet. And the chance of flushing out their pay packet with some tabloid money would be pretty appealing."

"For some characters, but not my staff."

She laughed softly. "You're delightfully trusting."

"I'm really not. But not once has a palace leak been the source of a story about me."

"Not that you know of."

Silence fell, but she didn't like the look on his face. He was contemplative, as if going back over all of the stories that had been written about him and reevaluating them through that lens. "I'm sure you're right," she said, trying to backpedal. "I just really would prefer this not to become public."

His eyes scanned her face. "Naturally." He stroked her arm. "I wouldn't have suggested the stables if I didn't think it was suitable."

She nodded slowly. "Have you used them for this before?"

His lips compressed a little, and she was reminded of the way it had been in the beginning, when they'd resisted sharing anything personal. That had changed between them, but old habits died hard, she supposed.

"No," he said, finally. "There's never been the need."

"What about before Louisa?"

"I've dated," he said with a shrug. "It was always accepted that I would see women, and there was respect for my privacy within the palace."

"It must have been hard for you as a teenager, though. To find your feet, turning into a young man, in the midst of all this."

"It was neither hard nor easy; it was all I knew."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"Why is the privacy of this so important to you?" he asked, turning it back on her. "Why do you care who knows what you're doing?"

She made a contemplative noise. "For one thing, we're hoping to win your business. This is unprofessional and I'm not that."

"No, you're not," he agreed.

"For another, you're good friends with the Santoros, who basically raised me. Their knowing about this would be very, very bad for me."

"Bad, how?"

"Bad as in, they'd start speculating and hoping you might be a boyfriend contender when obviously that's not what this is."

His light stroking of her arm stilled, pausing near her elbow before he resumed. "Are they eager for you to have a boyfriend, Sofia?"

Looking back, she realized she had basically said as much. And what was wrong with that? Hadn't she just been reflecting on how far they'd come, in terms of what they were willing to share about themselves? "Yes. Maria would love me to meet someone ‘special'. She's forever lamenting my single status."

"But you've dated."

"I've slept with men," she corrected carefully. "I've had short-term flings. Like this." But not like this. Nothing had ever been like this, nor had it prepared her for it. "But I've never been seriously involved with anyone, and I've definitely never met anyone I wanted to take back to Italy for them to meet."

His brows drew together, curiosity obvious, but at that moment, her stomach rumbled, and she laughed, glad for the reprieve from this conversation. "Do you think your stable manager has any food in her fridge?"

"No, but I brought muffins. Stay here." He kissed the tip of her nose but rather than pulling away, lingered there a moment, so she felt his warm breath brush over her and she shivered. This memory, this moment, had a gravity all of its own. Or maybe that was Ares? He was a sinkhole, pulling at her, so she wanted to fall into this and stay here. With him.

She fought that with every single part of her.

He knew she was making an excellent point, and that he should have been focusing on her words, but as Sofia went through the Santoro company's hiring processes, explaining why they'd always put an emphasis on paying above required rates, and how they took care of their employees and contractors, he found his mind kept wandering back to that morning. And last night. To the way she'd felt: to touch, to kiss, to finally lose himself in. To how she'd smiled, laughed, challenged him to take her harder, how she'd been such a perfect complement to him in every way.

And though she wore a sensible pale-yellow pantsuit, all he could think about was stripping it off her that night, leaving only the baroque pearl necklace in place. He loved to imagine how it would look, the lustre of those pearls falling on her flawless caramel skin, running over her breasts.

Annnnnd…great. Without realizing it, he was hard, and in a particularly inconvenient forum, giving he was sitting opposite Salvatore Santoro.

"Your Highness?" Sofia arched a brow, staring at him, so it was apparent she'd asked him a question.

He cursed inwardly. "Yes?"

Her lips twitched with the hint of a smile. Damn it, she knew what she was doing to him, and she was enjoying it.

"Do you need me to repeat the question?"

Salvatore glanced back at Sofia, but Ares barely noticed the look his friend shot her.

"Thank you."

"If you're too tired to continue, we could meet again later."

Salvatore frowned. "I'm sure he's fine. Right?" Salvatore turned back to Ares, who barely glanced at him.

"I did have trouble sleeping last night."

"That's funny, so did I," Sofia murmured. "Perhaps it was a full moon?"

He almost choked on a laugh. "Perhaps."

Salvatore might have thought they'd both lost their minds because he leaned forward. "Sofia was asking if you'd have any objections to us meeting with your minister for trade and industry?"

Ares nodded slowly. "Until I've made a decision, yes. I'd like to keep the process on my desk for now."

Sofia's eyes narrowed a little—clearly that wasn't the answer she'd wanted, but she nodded. For now. He knew her well enough to know she'd probably bring this up later. Later, when she was naked, except for the pearls.

He dropped his gaze to the desk and smothered a groan. This was a nightmare, and yet it was one from which he didn't really want to wake.

"Okay, we can cross that bridge when we come to it." Not if.

Something stretched inside his chest, a feeling he didn't particularly like. Concern. Because, at this stage, he wasn't prepared to decide in favour of the Santoros over the Valentinos. While sentimentally, he hoped he could give them the business, the Valentino proposal had been incredible, and he wasn't sure he could turn it down. Something he had to make clear to Sofia sooner, rather than later. He didn't want her to think that just because of their relationship, or whatever he could call it, that they'd have an advantage. If anything, it made him more determined to go the other way—to avoid even the appearance of favoritism.

Whilst he was personally funding eighty per cent of this project, there was still state money involved, and the land was Crown land, meaning he had to be absolutely confident he was making the right decision for his people.

"If," he felt compelled to say. "I'm going to take a few weeks to come to a decision on this."

Sofia's eyes narrowed and sparked with his. "Is there anything we can do to help you make it sooner?"

"Do you need a quick answer?" He volleyed back.

"Not at all," Salvatore interjected. "We can work with your timeline. Sof is just eager, as always, to get the ball rolling. She's a natural go-getter."

Sofia's cheeks flushed pink, and he bit back a smile. "I can see that."

"I just know the Santoros are the best fit for this project."

"Something I'll be considering, as I review both proposals," he said. "Now, talk to me about sourcing materials. As you know, we have a shipping issue?—,"

Salvatore began to speak then, explaining the network of Santoro ships that would be at his disposal—a definite point in favour of their bid. Salvatore even came close to suggesting they could permanently loan some of the ships to the country, to ease their supply issues, but Ares chose not to hear that. It sounded close to a bribe, and he wouldn't go down that path.

An hour later, he was bringing the meeting to a close, trying not to think about the fact he wouldn't see Sofia for at least ten more hours. And how much that bothered him.

"Thank you both for your time," he extended his hand for Salvatore first, shook it, and then turned to Sofia, who regarded him with those stunning green eyes of hers. She held out her hand and he hesitated a moment before taking it, half afraid that he'd touch her and ignite. Or lose his mind and pull her against him, because he wanted, more than anything, to kiss her hard on those soft, pillowy lips of hers.

"Your Highness," she muttered, and as she shook his hand, she used her other to pull her long, blonde hair over one shoulder, so it cascaded in perfect waves over one breast.

He felt himself stirring again and quickly broke the contact, moving back to the table.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Salvatore was saying. "Let me know if you have chance to catch up one on one—socially—before we fly out tomorrow night."

Sofia and Ares both jerked their heads towards Salvatore. "Tomorrow night?" he asked, keeping his voice casual with effort. "I thought you were staying another couple of nights.

"No, a couple of days. As in, today and tomorrow. I've got a meeting in New York the day after that."

Salvatore's gaze skimmed Ares's face, which he was concentrating hard on keeping neutral.

"I see."

"Unless you need us to stay longer?" Salvatore prompted.

Needed? No. Wanted? Definitely.

"That should be fine," Ares said, carefully avoiding looking at Sofia. They'd always known they'd have a week. So, what if she left a day ahead of what he'd expected? Maybe it was a good thing that this band-aid be ripped off sooner rather than later?

"Because if you need more information, or want us to review any additional data, I'm sure we can look at our schedules…"

But even if Sofia could stay longer, so what? Ares could keep her in his bed for another week? Two weeks? A month? When would he be ready to walk away from this, if she didn't leave the country? And what future was there for them? She'd made it clear that she wasn't interested in any of the things he needed, and marriage and babies were not optional for Ares.

"No, tomorrow will be fine. Anything pertinent I can send on over email. Besides, at this point, I just need time to consider both excellent proposals in full."

"Great," Salvatore smiled, unconscious of the internal war that was being waged inside of Ares. One more night. Not two. Just one. Tonight. And then…he didn't want to think about it.

He didn't want to think about not seeing Sofia again.

He didn't want to think about not being able to be with her.

He didn't want to think about losing someone else he'd come to…care for?

He didn't care for her, though. He just liked spending time with her. He wasn't ready to care for anyone, after Louisa. It was too soon.

"So let me know if you can grab a beer tonight, or something," Salvatore said, as he moved towards the door.

Guilt at the betrayal to one of his dearest friends briefly made him question his plans for that night. After all, shouldn't he be prioritizing Salvatore over Sofia? And yet, he didn't really contemplate it. Not for a second.

"I've got a dinner, unfortunately," he lied. "But we really are overdue for a catch-up. You must come back soon."

"He'll have to, once we start construction," Sofia pointed out with a wink, earning a soft laugh from both Ares and Salvatore.

He watched as she walked towards the door, his gaze incapable of leaving her body, so when she turned and looked over her shoulder, then blew him a kiss, he saw it, and his whole body ignited with a torrent of white-hot, terrifying need…and want. But what exactly did he want? Because what had started as a simple rebound fling now seemed a lot more complicated, and he had no idea what to do about that.

"You pushed him hard in there," Salvatore said.

"Too hard? You don't approve?"

"No, I loved it. I thought you were genius. He did too, I could tell."

Her heart lifted and even when she knew she shouldn't, because it risked being too revealing, she said, "Oh? In what way?"

"He's hard to impress, but he clearly likes you."

"He doesn't like me," she said, breathily.

"I don't mean romantically," Salvatore laughed. "Calm down. Obviously, I don't mean that. But as a professional, he respects you. That's a good sign."

Her heart thumped into her ribs. "We don't know anything about the Valentino proposal," she said slowly.

"Yeah, that's true. If only there was some way we could get that information. I'd love to see what they've put forward."

Maybe there was a way? Could she ask the King? Would he be honest with her? Probably. But wasn't that likely to put him in a position he wasn't comfortable with? And was she really comfortable with exploiting their relationship?

She thought of the determination she'd arrived in Moricosia with. She thought about what she owed the Santoros, and how badly she wanted to be able to hand them this deal before she broke the news to them that she was leaving the company. Despite their generosity and support, and everything they'd done for her.

Guilt formed in the pit of her stomach, and she hoped against hope that she hadn't done something that would ruin their chances with Ares. This had to be about their bid, and nothing else. She just hoped their bid really was the best one he had on his desk…

Ares regarded his private secretary for several seconds, weighing up his options, before speaking.

"I need you to organize something for me."

"Of course, your highness. Anything."

"Discreetly."

Not by a flicker on Nicholas's face did he show a reaction. "Naturally."

Sofia's words were in his mind though, about the possibility of palace leaks. "Without involving anyone else. I'm asking you to handle this personally."

"I see."

Assured of the other man's discretion, Ares laid out his requirements, aware that if anyone was capable of making it happen, it was Nicholas. And that Sofia was worth every single bit of trouble he was putting his aid to. If this was to be their last night together, he wanted it to be one of the most magical of her life. And his. They both deserved that, after everything they'd each been through.