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‘No.’ The answer was swift and definitive. ‘She must return to London next week. A month was all she could give Danica, I’m afraid.’
He ignored the swift stabbing sensation beneath his ribs.
‘I don’t know when I’ll be out, Ares. Are you sure she can’t stay longer?’
‘Take all the time you need. Beatrice has hired a local girl who is also very good with the baby. Ellen dotes on her and will be available to help even when you return home. Someone who can ease you back into normal life.’
‘And keep an eye on me, you mean?’ Matt demanded sharply, briefly taking Ares back to the god-awful time shortly after Ingrid’s death, when every question had led to an angry retort from his younger brother.
Matthaios winced apologetically. ‘I know you mean well. I just hate...being here and having no...’
‘Control,’ Ares supplied, before his brother could even finish his sentence. ‘I understand how you feel.’ He could think of nothing worse than losing control of any situation, ever. ‘What you have to realise is that in getting well you are taking control back. Control over the addiction that will chew through your life if you let it, just as it did our mother’s.’
‘I know that.’ Matt’s eyes fired with courage. ‘I’m not going to mess this up, Ares.’ He looked to the phone once more. ‘She means too much to me.’
‘You’re very quiet.’
He regarded Bea over the rim of his glass. She was wearing the dress he’d chosen from the department store. He’d grabbed it simply because it had been nearby but, seeing it on her now, the colours were the perfect palette to draw out her complexion.
‘Am I?’ The question was designed to stall. She was right; he had been preoccupied since returning from visiting Matthaios.
‘You’ve answered in monosyllables practically all evening.’ Concern clouded her eyes. ‘Is everything okay?’
He fingered the stem of his wine glass. ‘I saw Matt today. My brother.’ And then, as though she couldn’t connect the dots. ‘Danica’s father.’
Her smile showed how redundant his second two statements had been. ‘How is he?’
‘Doing better,’ Ares admitted. ‘Frustrated that it’s taking longer than expected to feel back to full health.’
‘What do the doctors say?’
‘That he should take as long as he needs, but that he’s showing very promising signs for a meaningful recovery. It’s never a smooth journey, though. It will require lifelong vigilance, so now it’s about arming him with the tools to recognise when he’s at risk of relapsing, as well as how to surround himself with people who are good for him.’
‘What was Danica’s mother like?’
Ares’s smile came easily. ‘An excellent influence. He adored her, and she didn’t let him get away with anything. I abhor the idea of soulmates,’ he said with an unintended shudder, ‘but in this case I would willingly make an exception.’
‘Are you so sceptical about love?’ she asked, and although he knew she was determined to get back to her life in London he felt a natural throb of concern enter his bloodstream. This was the longest he’d ever spent with a woman. Ares always, without fail, left before things could get beyond the first flush of sexual chemistry. He had no interest in growing dependent on anyone, and even less in being needed.
If this time had proved anything, though, it was that he was stronger than he’d thought. Three weeks with Bea had flown by and while they’d been thoroughly enjoyable, he had no difficulty in accepting their affair was almost at an end. Oh, he’d miss her, but just in a physical way, and that wouldn’t last long, surely.
‘Love is fine,’ he said with a careful smile. ‘For Matthaios it was necessary. Ingrid changed him and even though her death destroyed a part of him, he is still a better man for having loved her.’
‘But it’s not for you,’ she pushed, her own expression giving frustratingly little away.
‘Love requires commitment and I have always preferred to be alone.’
‘Why?’
‘This, coming from you?’
Her grimace might have been an attempt at a smile.
‘My career is my life,’ she said.
He understood her drive and determination. He had always been motivated by a similar need to achieve.
‘As a child, I knew that Matthaios’s life was inextricably linked to mine. His success was mine to encourage. His failures landed at my feet. When my grandfather died, he left just the two of us, and Matt became dependent in a way that has haunted me ever since. I’ve let him down too many times, Beatrice.’
