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CHAPTER NINE

SHEWASN’TLIKEany woman he’d ever known. She’d shunned the high-end boutiques his chauffeur had brought them to, wrinkling her nose up at the clothes the assistants had suggested, repeatedly walking out empty-handed, despite his insistence that he wanted to furnish her with a wardrobe to get her through the month they’d agreed on.

Had they agreed? He couldn’t precisely remember. The night before had gone as far from his expectations as possible, and yet somehow he had taken the fact that she was still here as tacit consent that she’d remain.

He’d wondered if she was just being contrary to spite him, but as they’d passed a department store she’d stopped walking and pressed a hand to his chest. ‘Perfect. Wait here.’

He’d ignored her suggestion, following behind as Bea whipped through the chainstore’s women’s fashion offerings. She scooped up clothes as she went. A pair of jeans, a denim skirt, some shorts, several T-shirts in the same style and different colours, before turning around and pushing the selection into his arms.

‘Hold these.’ Her eyes challenged him. ‘Do not follow me into the lingerie section, Ares. I mean it.’

Oh, how sorely tempted he was to do exactly that! But her innocence put him in an unusual position—torn between his desire for her and a need to tread gently, reminding himself that she wasn’t like his usual lovers.

Oh, she was beautiful and smart, sophisticated and intelligent, but she was also a virgin, and for a man like Ares who’d only ever offered one part of him to the women he slept with—his body—surely that innocence made her off-limits? All the more so because he couldn’t offer her more than a physical relationship. Sex. His temperature skyrocketed and in the middle of the department store his body grew hard, his arousal tight against the seam of his trousers so he lowered the bundle of clothes a little. What the hell was wrong with him? The fact she was a virgin should have been a huge red flag. He shouldn’t be interested in being her first, but hell, he wanted her regardless.

He hovered on the edge of the section, determined not to look in her direction. Instead, he wandered, finding himself amongst Lycra swimsuits and picking several out simply to keep busy. The deep red bikini would complement Bea’s complexion, but so too the cream with gold straps. He ignored the black one-piece even when he knew, somehow, that the bland, unflattering style was the one she would have gone for. He returned to the clothing section then, picking up a floral dress with a cinched-in waist and buttons down the front, adding it to the clothes she’d chosen, before Bea approached him, already carrying a plastic bag with the store’s logo emblazoned on the front.

‘Let’s go pay for those,’ she said, unable to meet his eyes.

His stomach clenched at her coyness. She’d bought the underwear already, rather than risk him seeing them? It was yet another reminder of how different she was to the kind of women he usually dated—women who would happily swan around semi-naked in silken lingerie.

He knew he shouldn’t tease her, but he couldn’t resist. ‘Did you find what you were looking for?’

She nodded, reaching out for the clothes without looking, but he shook his head. ‘I’ll take care of it.’

‘Then I’ll go wait outside,’ she said breathily, apparently desperate to escape.

He watched her make a beeline for the exit and then turned on his heel, heading back into the lingerie section. He had no doubt she’d chosen boring cotton panties and bras. That was fine. But Ares wanted to add something else to her wardrobe, something that she might wear and imagine him removing...

There was a meagre selection of sensual nightgowns in this family-friendly store, but he managed to find a slinky black negligee with lace detailing, and a matching pair of French lace panties. He whistled as he made his way to the checkout, unable to think of anything except Bea in sexy lingerie, against the sheets of his bed.

‘We really should get back,’ she said quietly, as much to herself as Ares. The truth was, she didn’t want to return to his home just yet. Being in Athens with Ares, it was almost possible to forget what had happened the night before, the way he’d bullied her into staying with him, to help take care of Danica.

No, it wasn’t that she’d forgotten. It was simply that the more time she spent with him, the more she understood him. She saw how motivated he was by his love for his brother, his desperate need to care for his family—and that included Danica. He’d move mountains to be sure the little girl was cared for, and last night Bea had represented the best chance for him to do that.

‘We should eat,’ he contradicted firmly, taking the bags from her hands and passing them to the waiting chauffeur. ‘There is a nice French restaurant near here. Shall we see if they have duck à l’orange?’

His recollection of the small detail sparked something in her blood, something she found very difficult to suppress.

She wasn’t used to anyone paying that much attention to her. Amy and Clare aside, and Priti when they were at university, Bea had never been important enough to anyone for them to care about the small things she said. It had been a throwaway comment, for goodness’ sake!

But she wasn’t important to Ares. That wasn’t what this meant. He was just a control freak with an eye for detail. How else could he have achieved what he had in the business world?

‘Danica...’ she reminded him weakly.

‘Xanthia would have called if there was a problem. I’m sure she’s fast asleep.’

Bea bit down on her lip, tempted.

‘A quick dinner, and then home,’ he insisted, putting a hand in the small of her back, taking advantage of her prevarication.

‘I suppose so.’ And, despite the fact it was a suggestion of practicality, a burst of anticipation spread through her limbs, so she felt a smile crossing her face as they walked. It was dark now, the sky an inky black. The hand at the curve of her spine moved sideways, catching her hip and drawing her closer as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He held her close to his side, moulding her body to his, and she indulged a need for that closeness, lingering beside him, feeling the power of his steps as they moved through the cobbled streets of Athens.

‘This is where you lived when you were a teenager?’ she asked, partly to fill the silence and partly because she wanted to piece together everything there was to know about Ares.

She felt him tense and wondered if he wasn’t going to answer. ‘Yes. After my grandfather died we had nowhere to go.’

‘Your mother?’

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