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He said something short and then disconnected the phone. It was the only movement he made; the rest of him was completely still. Shocked? She couldn’t tell. It only lasted a small beat of time and then he was speaking to the gondolier once more.

‘Ares? What is it?’ Her voice was still husky, the passion flooding her veins slow to recede.

When he looked at her it was almost as though he’d forgotten she was there. ‘Beatrice,’ he muttered. Her heart lurched. She’d been treated as an inconvenience often enough to immediately understand his meaning.

‘I have to return home, immediately. It cannot be delayed.’

Concern eclipsed her own feelings of rejection. ‘Has something happened?’

A grimace was his only response. Mentally she derided herself for asking such a stupid question. Obviously something had happened. But what?

Everything felt different now. The buildings of Venice still sat on either side of the canal but now it was as though they were looming watchfully, bathed in too-bright yellow rather than a gentle gold, and even the lapping of the water seemed to inflame Bea’s uncertainties and anxieties.

They had not travelled far and, using a series of shortcuts, the gondolier had them back at the speedboat a short time later. He pulled up to the pontoon, moving to help Bea disembark, but Ares was there first, his strong hand guiding her out of the boat even as his face bore an unrecognisable mask of stony intent. Another shiver spread through her as she shrugged out of his jacket and looked around behind her.

‘You go.’ She nodded towards the sleek black speedboat. ‘I’ll catch a water taxi to a hotel.’

His frown was just the slightest shift of his lips, then his hand was on her back, drawing her with him. ‘I doubt any will have space available. Between the ball and the opera, Venice is packed.’

‘Surely somewhere—’

‘Nowhere reputable.’

She nodded, relying on his better knowledge of Venice at that point, stepping into the speedboat with him. At the airport, she could arrange a flight to London. Disappointment was a visceral ache rapidly spreading through her. She refused to think about where the night had been heading only moments earlier; she refused to think about the heat still pooling in her abdomen, demanding fulfilment. She refused to imagine Ares naked on top of her, and what the weight of his body would feel like over hers; she refused to go down that path even when it was dragging at her every second of the torturous, silent boat ride to the airport.

Relief flooded Bea’s veins when they arrived; she wanted Ares more than she could say, but at the same time she desperately needed to get away from him so she could process what had just happened.

He walked quickly away from the speedboat and she had to take long strides to keep up. He was taking the same path they’d trodden earlier—a partly concealed sign declared ‘Aerei Privati’. Private Aircraft.

She stopped walking and, despite the fact he was marginally ahead of her, some sixth sense must have alerted him to the change because he halted and turned to her. ‘Come. I must be quick.’

His accent was more noticeable, his words rushed with something like panic.

‘You go on. I’ll make my way to the terminal and see about getting a ticket to London.’

His brow furrowed, as though he hadn’t expected that. ‘There won’t be any commercial flights at this time.’

Beatrice glanced at her wristwatch, groaning because of course that was true! It was almost midnight. She looked around with a growing sense of unease. ‘Then an airport hotel—’ She gestured to a low building in the distance bearing a familiar logo, associated with three-star hotels the world over.

‘No.’

She startled at the word. ‘I beg your pardon?’

He compressed his lips, turning to her in a manner that made Bea feel as if she were a recalcitrant child. She stood her ground.

‘I do not have any time to spare, Beatrice. I cannot take you to that hotel, and I will not leave you to make your own way there. So you need to come with me.’

‘Where to?’

‘My home.’

‘I don’t even know where that is.’

‘Does it matter?’

She glared at him with hauteur.

He sighed. ‘In Greece. It is an emergency; I do not have time to argue with you.’

‘Then don’t argue with me,’ she said quietly, practically on the brink of tears at how the night had turned out. ‘You do your thing and I’ll do mine. I’m a big girl, more than capable of getting myself to that hotel and checking in for the night.’

He shook his head. ‘I won’t have it on my conscience if something goes wrong, and I do not have the time to see you there safely myself.’

‘We’re going around in circles here, Ares, because I’ve already said I’ll be fine, and you’re saying you don’t know that for sure. But I can see no reason to come with you, especially when something’s obviously happened that requires your attention, so, short of kidnapping me, you’re going to have to accept my decision.’

He stared at her, his bright eyes bitter; she could feel her skin burning under their assault. And then he moved, taking one step towards her and lifting her easily, as though she weighed nothing, hoisting her over his shoulder. She was too shocked to make a noise; he had already resumed his earlier path and taken several steps before she squawked in indignation, ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘Kidnapping you.’ The words obviously came from between gritted teeth. ‘Just as you suggested.’

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