Page 89 of Ungodly Rich

“The moment we met,” he said easily. “When you kicked my ass at darts.”

She snorted out a breath. “No, really. When did youknow?”

This time, Ares paused before replying. “I can’t think of a specific moment. I just remember waking up one day and thinking that…you’re the only person I’ve ever met who makes me want to die.”

“Iwhat?” Julia exclaimed.

He winced. As usual, words were unwieldy and clumsy to him. “You know what I mean….”

Julia stared at him. “No, I really don’t.”

Ares walked around the campfire and went to unzip the door of the tent, which he’d pitched in the clearing behind Julia. This conversation would be easier if they were both lying down, holding each other. If he could feel her heartbeat.

Sensing his intent, she followed him inside and stretched out atop the sleeping bag, then reached for his hand, pulling him toward her.

Gratefully, Ares lay down next to Julia. Their bodies fit so perfectly together, her back against his chest, his arm thrown over her like a shield. If only he could protect her from everything.

“You make me want to live every moment to the fullest,” Ares said slowly. “You make me want to see everything there is to see, all the nature and wildness and even the art in the world—to be greedy with life, drinking it in. I used to skate along the surface of things, cutting corners. And now I realize that I wasn’t trying to get away from anything, I was trying to find my waytoyou.” He heard her draw in a breath at that, and kissed her. “You make me want to live, and then you make me want to grow old together, and die together.”

“Oh, Harry,” Julia breathed, and Ares knew that for once, he’d said the right thing. “I love you.”

She rolled over and nestled closer against him, tucking her head onto his chest. Ares felt his breathing quicken. He couldn’t keep putting off this conversation.

“Julia,” he began nervously.

“Hmm?”

“Remember how I said that there were things I hadn’t told you? Well, it’s about my family.”

Julia shifted contentedly in his arms, which he took as a sign to continue.

“Actually…we aren’t ordinary. It’s not just the money, it’s…we’re…”

Suddenly Ares regretted coming into the tent, starting this conversation in the hushed darkness atop the sleeping bag. He wanted to see the expression on Julia’s face as he spoke his next words.

“We are gods,” he told her. “My name isn’t Harry. It’s Ares.”

He waited, his entire body coiled with tension. Julia said nothing.

Shit. She must have been livid, or heartbroken, her mind racing with a thousand questions. He wondered if she was thinking of all the Greek artwork she’d studied in college, art that depictedhim.Or maybe she thought he’d lost his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he went on. “I really wanted to tell you. I’ve just been trying to find the right time.”

It was another few seconds before Ares lifted himself onto one elbow to look at her face.

Julia was asleep. She hadn’t heard a word he’d said.

Ares sighed and lay back down, settling his arm over her slumbering form. After all the wedding planning these past months, after that hike, after the pleasure he’d wrung from her body in the river…it was no surprise she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

He could tell her in the morning, of course. Heshouldtell her in the morning. But a part of Ares already knew he wouldn’t.

Deep down, he was relieved that Julia hadn’t heard his confession. That he got to stay with her here, in this temporary bubble of happiness, for a little longer.

When she learned the scale of what Ares had kept from her, she would feel angry, and rightfully so. Or worse, she would feel heartbroken.

The other gods would laugh if they knew. To think that Ares—the great stormer of walls, breaker of weapons, besieger of cities—was a coward about this one thing. A conversation with a mortal woman.

Chapter Thirty-Six