Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

I T TOOK EVERY OUNCE of Ares's willpower not to react to the appearance of Sofia Marona, dressed not in an immaculate lilac skirt suit now, but rather a pair of cargo pants, a fitted long-sleeved shirt, and hiking boots.

It took even more willpower not to let his gaze drop to the swell of her breasts, so lovingly caressed by her shirt, nor the neat turn of her bottom hinted at by the dark green pants. Her face was no less dangerous to look at, though, because her lips were full and wide, somehow imploring him to reach across and trace them, first with his finger and then, perhaps, with his tongue.

Not since he'd been a teenager and had, for six months, had a tutor named Bettina Torez had he found it so difficult to ignore his attraction to someone.

Then, he'd been made wild by hormones rampaging through his body. At twenty-eight, he didn't have that excuse, but he had another.

Louisa.

Their breakup had hit him hard. Her finality in walking away had been the most shocking part of it. There'd been no discussion, no negotiation, no apology. She'd made up her mind some time ago, he deduced, and had been gradually adapting to the idea of no longer being together. Only she hadn't told him, nor had she even signaled that she felt that way, so he had been utterly blindsided. Nothing could compare to the grief of losing your parents and your older sibling, but it was the first time since their abrupt, unexpected deaths that he'd been shocked—and alone.

Dismayed and unsure how to proceed.

Almost two months later, he was still picking up the pieces of his life, trying to rewire his brain so she was no longer a part of what he expected in a day. The number of times he would reach for his phone to call her, to tell her something unimportant, showed how much he hadn't prepared for this.

Her reasoning though was indisputable. She didn't want this life.

She didn't want to be a public figure, and there was nothing Ares could do to change her mind. He would have offered her many things, but he was King, and the duties and responsibilities to his country were not something he took lightly; nor that he had any interest in abdicating.

I still love you, but I don't want to be with you. I don't want to be a part of this. I can't do it, Ares.

Well, join the club. Many was the time Ares had thought exactly the same thing. There were elements of his job and life that he adored—such as the ability to make a difference to his people—but other parts he hated—like the way the public seemed to think it had a right to know absolutely everything about him. Privacy was a foreign concept indeed, to a man like him. He couldn't blame Louisa for opting out of it. Nor could he blame her for taking two years to come to the realisation that she didn't want this. Press speculation about the state of their relationship had reached fever pitch, and it didn't matter if she was with him or not, she was a target for aggressive paparazzi stalking regardless. Whether she was walking her dog, or taking her niece to a sports game, or dining out with girlfriends, the event would be immortalized and splashed across the papers, as though it were a deeply important matter of national security rather than a woman simply living her life.

I've been put in a cage, and I didn't even realise it. I need to get out.

She'd left the country the day after their breakup, heading to Australia to take up a job in an advertising agency in Sydney, where she wouldn't be so instantly recognisable, and she could resume, she hoped—as did Ares—something of a normal life.

Still, her rejection went some of the way to explaining his gut-clenching desire for Sofia. It went beyond the woman's physical beauty. It was something about the way she moved and spoke, the hint that there was a deep vein of passion and feeling running through her, which she controlled with the same vice-like grip on emotions that Ares was famed for.

"Salvatore isn't well," she explained, with a hint of impatience in her tone. "He can't go hiking. He suggested me as his replacement."

No. Just say no. You're the King of this whole damned country, and this is your personal hiking time, the one non-negotiable in this whole damned life. There were very few people he would allow to intrude on that. Any of the Santoros had a leave pass, but that was pretty much it.

He knew they all thought of Sofia as something of a sister—he'd heard them talk about her for long enough to know she had an almost mythical place in their family—but that didn't mean he had to extend the same reasoning to her. Did it?

So what, was he really going to turn her down, when she'd shown up dressed and ready to leave? His lips compressed into a line of disapproval.

Was he really going to reject her?

"It's three days of hiking," he said, a hint of ambivalence in his tone. After all, she looked as though a rough breeze could snap her in two.

Her chin jutted with obvious defiance. A spark ran through his bloodstream. Not many people challenged him; he missed that. "I'm aware."

The corner of his mouth tingled with a sudden itch to smile. She was trying to be polite, but he'd pissed her off. Fascinating.

His eyes dropped to her lips of their own accord, and he cursed inwardly. Full, sweet, kissable lips. She wore minimal makeup—just a hint of lipgloss, some mascara, and perhaps some blush—but nonetheless, he itched to see her face completely natural, with no enhancements whatsoever. He suspected she might be someone who was even more beautiful just as she woke up in the morning. Hair messy, after a night spent?—

With an almost extra-human effort, he shut down that dangerous and delightful thought. "I walk fast."

"I'm sure I can keep up."

"Are you?"

"I have legs, don't I?"

Damn it. What was that if not an invitation? His glance slid downwards, and not with any great speed. It was a slow and lazy inspection, as though he might never see her again and this was his one chance to commit her to memory. As though she were the first and last woman he'd ever seen. His eyes lingered on the swell of her breasts, and his palms warmed with an image, conjured against his will, of what it would be like to hold them. To feel their weight in his hands, to cup them and brush his fingertips over her nipples until she whispered his name into the breeze…

"It's true I don't have much hiking experience, but how hard can it be?" She asked, a little breathily, so he knew the effect his inspection had on her, and relished the evidence of her own response.

Desire strummed through his body.

Perhaps to foreshadow the dangers of what he was suggesting, Ares took a small step closer, his eyes running over her delicate features, willing himself to be sensible. Rational. To hold onto his restraint a while longer. "I take one tent. Unless you feel like carrying your own," he prompted, "we'll be sharing a small space overnight."

Her breath hitched noticeably but her features showed no other betraying reaction. "I'm sure I'll have no problems falling straight to sleep after a whole day hiking through the wilderness."

"You really want to do this?" He asked, and Ares knew he was talking about more than just the hike. There was something flaring between them that seemed almost inevitable. If she said no, and demurred, then they'd be safe. If she agreed to come—he couldn't predict what would happen, but he suspected it would be as imprudent as it was satisfying.

"Yes." The word was heavy with uncertainty though. He understood her dilemma perfectly—it was the same one that Ares was facing.

"Okay," he arched a brow. "Then let's go."

The car had taken them forty minutes from the palace, and the drive had been conducted in almost complete silence. Or, rather, there'd been a lack of conversation, except for a few pieces of information Ares had given her. Such as, the park is completely private—it's part of the royal estate.

Only, despite the lack of speech, Sofia had been aware of other noises. Like the gushing of blood through her veins, and the hammering of her heart into her ribs, the brushing of her fingertips as she toyed with her hands in her lap. Every mile the car ate up made her want to pull out of this whole trip. She was not a hiker, not by any stretch of the imagination. Then again, how hard could it be? She was fit, and she could put one foot in front of the other. The hiking wasn't what was worrying her. It was the spark. The chemistry. The fact they seemed to ignite something when they were close. Did he feel it too?

So what if he did? They were both adults; they could ignore something as basic as that. She had to focus on the reason Salvatore had needed her to take his place. This was three days of unfettered access to King Ares, who held the future of the Santoro family's tender in his hands. She had to relegate her personal doubts to the back of her mind and focus instead on this opportunity.

She would not squander it.

It was her chance to repay the Santoros for their kindness and generosity, and a way to thank them before she broke the news to them that she wouldn't be taking up a role in their company long term. She had to stand on her own two feet, away from them, at some point. Even if just to prove to herself that she could.

The palace was on the edges of the capital city of Moricosia, an ancient medieval city reminiscent of the oldest parts of Athens, with light-coloured buildings, made of stone or rendered beige, arched windows, and small balconies with wrought iron balustrades and shocks of bright colour intermittently, courtesy of the potted plants that the people here saw almost as obligatory to display. Even as the weather was turning cool, for this climate, the flowers still beamed, their faces happily upturned towards the wintry sun.

Their car had headed east, away from the coastline, and into more suburban areas, which fascinated Sofia. It was remarkable how quickly the high-density houses gave way to urban sprawl and then, a little further out, to areas of agriculture. She spotted vineyards, and fields dotted with sheep and cows, then some long, green grasses, which she guessed to be wheat.

"I didn't know agriculture was such a big industry in Moricosia."

"We have a policy of self-sufficiency. There was a bad famine, after the war. The government moved to legislate a future-proof solution. There is also a tax rebate for residents who use a minimum of fifteen per cent of their available land for personal food production."

Silence fell once more, but Sofia couldn't ignore the pride in his voice, nor the sense of ownership. As though he was deeply connected to the success of his country, and its people.

The farms grew further and further apart, and then there were just rolling hills, which eventually became spotted with the occasional tree, before becoming heavy with them, and the air around them darkened as the car slid beneath a canopy of green. Thick trunks surrounded them, and the temperature dropped noticeably. After about ten minutes, the car drew to a stop in a small, gravel clearing, and Ares turned to her.

"Well?" The short word was somehow imbued with myriad meanings. Skepticism, doubt, displeasure, irritation. "Shall we?"

He was hoping, even then, that she'd change her mind. Just like he clearly had wanted her to be back in the palace. And fair enough. She'd totally invited herself on his personal trip. Naturally, he was pissed. But, just as Salvatore had suggested, he was too well-mannered to do more than hint at it.

"Absolutely," she forced an over-bright smile to her face. "I'm looking forward to it."

A quick curl of his lips showed more than skepticism. Outright doubt was expressed on his face. If only he knew how that strengthened her resolve…

The driver opened the King's door first and bowed a little, which Ares seemed not to notice. Sofia, on her side of the car, had opened her own door in time to catch the way Ares looked towards the forest behind them, all lush fir trees, pine trees, elms, and enormous oaks. It looked like a forest that might have been there for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. A bird made a whipping cry, like a bell, and she glanced up to try to spot it. A streak of silver passed through the sky, too fast for her to identify more than fast-moving wings.

"It's beautiful," she murmured to herself, though Ares made a throaty sound of agreement. He was at the trunk of the car, alongside the driver, who was removing two backpacks. Hers had been packed by the same person who'd shopped for her clothes; she had no idea what was in it, but she blindly trusted Salvatore to have organised this well. Hers was smaller than Ares's, probably because she wasn't also accommodating a tent inside.

"This is your last chance," he said, and she flattened her mouth to curtail her irritation because he really was being so obvious in wanting her to take a ride back to the palace. "Once we start, it's a three-day loop to get back here."

"Great," she nodded curtly. "Can't wait."

"We'll see."

She narrowed her gaze. "You don't think I can do this, do you, Your Highness?"

He lifted one shoulder. "I don't know anything about you."

"Then why are you acting as though this hike is the worst idea on earth?"

His lips compressed in a tight line, and he glanced sideways quickly, as if to regroup. "You don't exactly strike me as the kind of person who goes hiking for pleasure."

"Yeah, well, there's a first time for everything."

He sighed so fast and hard that his nostrils flared. Sofia's lips pulled to the side, and she couldn't help offering, placatingly, "Look, you're right. This isn't my thing. But I like trying new stuff, and I would love to see more of the country. Plus, I'd like to get to know you better."

His brows shot up at the admission.

"The Santoros are like family to me, and they all speak very highly of you." She shrugged. "It's nice to finally meet you." And it was true. Though she knew this was a business opportunity, she would also enjoy finding out more about the man she'd heard them all speak about so much.

A muscle jerked low in his jaw. "I was thinking the same thing," he admitted, slowly, as though the words were being dragged from him. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Great. Then it's like we're already…old friends."

Except, it really didn't feel like that, and she didn't, for one second, believe he thought so either. The air between them had been crackling with tension from the moment they'd met, and it had only intensified on the drive out here, and now, in the middle of this ancient, magical forest, the atmosphere was heavy with something almost hypnotic. Drugging.

"Okay then, friend," he drawled, clipping his backpack in place around his waist and then looking at her. "Do you need help with that?"

She glanced down at the backpack. "Oh, no. I've got it." She reached for it but of course, her hand slipped a bit, so she missed picking it up the first time around. He took a step closer, but she shook her head. "I'm okay." This time, she hoisted it onto her back quickly and easily and clipped the middle band in place. It was a little heavy, but the moment the band was fastened over her hips, the weight distribution became easier to bear. She wriggled her toes inside her boots and looked straight ahead. "Alright. Which way?"

The driver was back in the car and starting the engine; moments later, they were alone. A shiver ran down Sofia's spine.

Ares gestured to a narrow clearing. "Let's go."

Once again, there was an absence of conversation, but that was not to say there was silence. Far from it. Here, in the midst of nature, Sofia was aware of a thousand and one little noises: like the rustling of leaves to the chirruping of birds, the soft rush of wind, the crunching underfoot of gravel, the heaviness of her breath, the rushing in her ears of blood and heat, and mostly, the staccato of her heartbeat. The weather was cool but not cold, and far above the massive green ceiling, the sun was shining, though its warmth was not apparent here.

They walked for hours. Step by step. At first, Sofia was searching for something to say, and the lack of ideas made her aware of the awkwardness inherent to this situation. But after the first mile, she became absorbed by their surroundings, aware more of the forest than she was of her reluctant guide. Several hours later, the silence no longer bothered her. She was content to simply walk a pace or two behind the King, marveling at this country of his.

"We'll stop here for the night."

"Here?" She looked around at the campsite. To her immense relief, there was a small timber building. Not big enough to sleep in, but with any luck, housing some kind of amenity.

"It's a very rudimentary bathroom," he murmured. "Probably not remotely up to your standards?—,"

"If there's a toilet that flushes, then wonderful."

"There is."

"Okay then." She unclipped her backpack and dropped it to the ground, grateful to have removed the thing.

"How do you feel?"

The question surprised her because it lacked any kind of mockery. It seemed to be a genuine request.

"Not too bad," she said, and it was true. The walk had mostly been flat ground, perhaps with a slight incline for the last hour or so.

He nodded his approval then crouched down to access his own pack. She watched as he withdrew a largish bag and unzipped it. The ‘tent' he proceeded to erect was, just as he'd promised, not at all large. Oh, it would be fine for two people to lay side by side, but there'd be scant room between them, she realised with a thickening in her throat.

Fine for two old friends who wanted to shoot the breeze. But for virtual strangers? And for virtual strangers who seemed to spark off one another like fireworks?

She almost groaned but he was watching her, and she didn't want to risk giving herself away.

"Great," she said cheerily. "You've obviously done that before."

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his thick, brown hair, then let it fall to the back of his neck, which he massaged with long, lean fingers, in a way that was utterly distracting. Because she couldn't help imagining what it would be like for him to massage her like that. She glanced away quickly; her cheeks over-warm.

"You do this a lot?"

"Go hiking with beautiful women I've just met? Strangely, no. I didn't have that on my bingo card for this year, actually."

Her gaze flicked back to his face, her pulse ratcheting up at the compliment buried in his drawled observation.

"Or a lot of things, come to think of it."

"Right. You just broke up with someone, didn't you?"

He winced. "I'm not surprised you heard about it. Apparently, my life is entertainment for broad swathes of the population."

"I guess that comes with the territory," she said, in a way that had his eyes narrowing a little. Contemplatively, and sadly. She wondered why?

"It does, yeah."

"And you hate it?"

"I wouldn't choose it, but it's just part and parcel of what I do."

"Of whom you are," she amended, not without sympathy.

"Right. Hungry?" He changed the subject, dipping into his pack and retrieving a small container. When he removed the lid, she saw it was a platter of food—cheese, olives, ham, dips, bread. Her stomach grumbled in excitement, and she laughed, pressing a hand to her midsection.

It was a mistake. The innocent gesture drew his attention immediately and it suddenly didn't feel remotely innocent.

She bit into her lower lip and focused all her attention on the food. "That looks…well, good enough to eat, actually."

He grinned, gesturing to a log that was lying down across from them. "Have a seat. It's safe," he added. "I use it all the time."

"How often do you do this?" And now, she clarified, to avoid any uncertainty. "The hiking, I mean." And, as an afterthought, she tacked on, "Your Highness."

His laugh surprised her. It seemed to rumble through the tree trunks. "You invited yourself on my trip—I think we're past the formalities, don't you?"

Mortification made her toes curl. "I'm…sorry, about that," she admitted, bashfully.

"Yeah? You seemed pretty determined to join me."

"It seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up."

"To get to know me?"

Her lips parted at the conclusion he'd drawn—and she could see why he thought that. They'd both admitted as much at the car, hadn't they? But it hadn't been what Sofia had meant now. At least, not completely. "I really want you to choose the Santoros for this project," she confessed. "It means a lot to me."

Something crossed Ares's face then. A wariness. A caution and uncertainty.

"You came so you could keep pitching to me?"

"You told Salvatore he'd have three days to win you over…"

"So, you thought you'd try to do the same thing?"

She didn't add that it had been at Salvatore's insistence.

"I was joking, Sofia." His voice was a little sharp and then he swore softly, looking away from her. Why was he so annoyed? Hadn't her reasoning been obvious?

Unless…

Unless…

Was it possible he was offended because he thought the only reason she'd come out here was because she was attracted to him? And that he was attracted to her? Was it possible that he'd thought being here, alone, sharing a tent, meant they'd…

It wasn't just her cheeks that felt warm now, but her whole entire body. Warm and gooey and weak in vital places like at her knees and between her shoulder blades, so her head rolled forward a little and she was staring at the ground.

"What…did you think?" she asked softly, and when he didn't answer, she reached up and put her hand on his shoulder, simply to draw his attention back to her.

Simply? Oh, there was nothing simple about it.

His hand moved lightning fast, closing over hers and drawing it down between them, so the same deluge of heat and spark that had ignited in her bloodstream exploded now. All the more so, because they were completely alone.

"I thought it might have had a little something to do with this. I suppose I should be relieved that's not the case. My life is complicated enough right now."

It was a moment of truth. A moment to be honest and face the consequences of that honesty, or to run and hide because how he made her feel was utterly terrifying. In every single circumstance that bore any resemblance to this, she would have chosen the latter.

She hated being overwhelmed by emotion, she hated the thought of being controlled by need and desire.

But whether it was the man before her or the surroundings they found themselves in, honesty seemed to force its way through her veins. She made herself meet his gaze, and held it, and slowly, she nodded. "I wish that were true," she said, quietly. Because this was complicated like he'd said, and she didn't do complicated. And even though it hurt, she pulled at her hand, freeing it from his grip. She was instantly cold. "It's just…easier to focus on the business side of things, don't you think?"

His Adam's apple shifted as he swallowed, and then, he was nodding, but it was a gruff, uncertain movement. "Yeah," he said after a beat. "Sure. It's much easier."

Sofia was pretty sure they both knew they were lying.