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So many free drinks were being pressed into their hands that Amy felt herself becoming more light-headed by the minute. Soon it was enough to make herself switch to coffee.
She couldn’t stop her heart from jolting every time Helios moved away from one person and on to another. Irrationally, she longed for him to bestow his attentions on her. But other than with his eyes he made no such attempt. She must be the only member of staff he hadn’t made an effort to speak to. Apart from Greta, who hadn’t let Amy out of her sight all evening.
Maybe he’d finally accepted that they were over, despite his proclamation that she would always be his. Maybe their short time apart had convinced him she had been right to end things between them.
A dagger speared her stomach at the thought of never feeling his strong arms around her again, or the heat of his kiss.
She needed to get out of there, to go back to her apartment and lick her wounds in peace before she gave in to the howl building in her throat. She’d done her best tonight, but not even the alcohol had numbed the ache pounding beneath her ribs. If anything, it had got worse.
But what peace could she find in her apartment when Helios was only the other side of a secret passageway? How could she survive another five months of living so close to him? With her resignation rejected and his threat of legal action if she left hanging over her head, her choices were limited. Her career would be ruined. Who would trust her if she were to breach her contract and be sued by the heir to the throne of Agon?
Because she believed that if she were to leave now he would carry out his threat.
He wasn’t a cruel man, but when provoked Helios was hot-tempered, passionate and filled to the brim with pride. Her attempted resignation had punctured his ego.
But then, if he had finally accepted they were finished maybe he’d be more understanding and amenable to her leaving if she broached the subject again, once the Gala was over.
She wished so hard that she could hate him, but she couldn’t. How could anyone hate him?
‘It’s nearly midnight,’ Greta said animatedly. ‘Let’s go to the beach.’
Amy nodded. The low buzzing noise of all the surrounding chatter was making her head ache. Some fresh sea air would do her good. She’d go out and watch the last of the entertainment and then she would slip away and lick her wounds in earnest.
* * *
The hotel’s curved private beach brought gasps of delight from everyone. Helios was pleased by their reaction. Indeed, the whole evening had been a marked success. He was sure there would be plenty of foggy heads in the morning, but he doubted anyone would regret them.
Rows of wooden tables with benches had been set along the sand, and gas lamps had been placed on them for illumination under the moonless sky. The hotel’s beach bar was open and cocktails were being made.
To get to the beach you had to cut through the hotel’s garden and follow a gentle, meandering trail, then take half a dozen steep steps down to it. It wasn’t until the tables were half-full that he spotted Amy, making her way down with Greta, whom she’d clung to like a shield for the entire evening.
He knew why.
Amy didn’t want to be alone because she was scared he would pounce the second he had the chance. And if she was scared of him pouncing there could only be one reason—she knew she would struggle to resist.
Her eyes had followed him everywhere that evening. She might try, but she could no more deny the chemistry between them than he could. Soon she would realise resistance was futile. Did the tide resist the pull of the moon? Of course not. Nature worked in perfect harmony, just like the desire that pulled him and Amy together.
And yet... Shadows darkened her eyes. There was pain there, the same pain he’d seen when she’d arrived at the hotel. Seeing it had made him...uneasy. It disturbed him in ways he couldn’t explain, not even to himself.
It had made him think twice about approaching her. Could he be the cause of that pain?
When she got to the bottom of the pathway she held Greta’s arm while she took her shoes off, then the pair of them took themselves to a table where some of their fellow curators were seated. Within moments of her sitting down her eyes roamed until they found him.
Even with only the soft glow of the lamps to illuminate her face he could see her yearning. He could sense her resistance waning. The uneasiness that had pulled at him all evening abated. He’d been imagining it.
With all the stress in his life—from his grandfather’s deteriorating health, Theseus’s shocking news, the forthcoming Gala, his own engagement and everything in between—it was no wonder his mind was playing tricks on him and making him see things that weren’t there.
