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I’d almost dare to say he doesn’t breathe as his hand reaches for my face, invading my personal space with a callused thumb that skims my cheek.
“Are you sure you have to leave in three days, Grace?”
My eyes caress every strong line of his face. “My official offer is waiting in my email.”
He nods in slow motion before he drops his hand and takes my hopes with him. Then Ares raises his coffee cup and taps it to the one sitting in my lap. “I can’t wait to see you dance one day...”
ARES
Grace and I finished a bottle and a half of champagne, all the appetizers, and the single piece of chocolate cake while we spent the night talking.Never did that before.Just talked.
Not that I didn’t want to do more—because I did.
A fuck of a lot more.
But it didn’t feel right.
Not with her.
With her, everything just feels…more.
We’ve both been quiet for a while when I reach over and shut off the light, leaving us bathed in the silvery moonlight.
Grace rests her head on my shoulder with a sweet sigh. “What time do you have to leave tomorrow?”
I run my hand through her hair, wishing like hell things were different. “I’ve got a few hours.” She looks so peaceful next to me as she closes her eyes and her lashes fan her cheeks, but there’s no way she can be comfortable in that dress. I unbutton my dress shirt and hand it to her. “Here. Put this on. It’s got to be more comfortable than that dress.”
Her heavy eyes look from the shirt to me before she stands and does some kind of fancy voodoo shit where she puts the button-down on, then manages to slip out of the dress withoutever showing me an extra sliver of skin. “Damn. That was impressive.”
“Quick changes are a ballerina’s specialty,” she tells me just before she yawns and tucks herself under the blanket. “Lie down with me, Ares.”
Her voice is quiet and hesitant. She’s nervous... needlessly so, because I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to deny her anything.
Grace Sinclair has managed to grab hold of me like no one else ever has, without ever lifting one of her delicate fingers.
I kick off my pants, leave on my boxers, get back in next to her, then wrap an arm around her beautiful body while I try to keep my own under control.
Grace rests her head on my chest and yawns again. “I knew you’d have a beautiful chest, god of war.”
A laugh rumbles through me. “Pretty sure you’ve had too much champagne, beautiful.”
“Maybe...” She traces my tattoo with the tip of her finger, lighting every nerve on fire as her eyes grow heavier. “Why couldn’t we have met a year ago, Ares?”
“We weren’t ready then, tiny dancer,” I tell her and shake my head as realization dawns.
She’s already fallen asleep.
I’m not sure I’ve ever spent an entire night in bed, just talking with a woman, but I could have listened to her for days. The way her whole face lights up when she mentions her family, her fierce loyalty to her friends, to this town... and the love-hate relationship she has with ballet. All of it. I hung on every damn word, like a puppy ready to beg for any scraps of her attention I could get. And even now, with her asleep in my arms and absolutely no chance of anything happening tonight, I’m not sure I’d have changed a minute of it.
Somewhere in the depths of my mind, someone calls my name.
It doesn’t sound human.
Just a sound I hear but ignore.
I’ve got a beautiful woman, soft and pliant and asleep in my arms, and I’m not ready to let her go just yet. Not when I’m going to spend the next two days with the team while she flies across the world.
“Ares,” Grace murmurs against my chest before her grip around my waist tightens. Her long, smooth legs are tangled with mine, and all her soft curves are fitted against me as if she were made for me. “Ares...”
