Page 15 of Her Red Hot Secret Royal Fling

She shrugged. “It’s just how I am.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push for more of an answer. Instead, he turned back to the situation between them. “I need to be very clear with you. I would hate to hurt you…”

“You won’t.” She spoke with the blinding confidence of someone who was utterly averse to the idea of relationships. “I promise.”

“Because my breakup was somewhat complicated, and I’m not in the headspace to be anything to anyone right now.”

“You have to be someone to lots of people, all the time,” she pointed out. “And I’m not asking you for anything. I’m notexpectinganything of you.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure I would just be on the rebound.”

“Clearly.”

He nodded, once, and she wondered what that meant. “Not,” he said slowly, his voice a deep rumble, “that anything’s going to happen between us.”

They both knew that was a bad bet. “But if it does,” she continued, lifting her hand to his face and swiping his cheek with her thumb, towards his lips. “We’d both know where we stand.”

His nostrils flared as he exhaled and they stood there for a long moment, just looking at each other, their words like a pledge that took its time to weave around them and form a sort of temporary, but unbreakable, bond.

From the minutethey’d made that agreement, all Sofia could think about was the night ahead. Excitement and anticipation built like a wave inside of her, throb, throb, throb, in, and out, a tide that was massing and growing and making her ache for something that she knew to be stupid and reckless. Less so now, though.

He was, as he’d said, on the rebound. He was probably still in love with his ex, but even that was strangely reassuring, because Sofia didn’t want love. After years of waiting for it from the one person who mattered most—and being denied—she had walled off her heart, and knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the safest course of action was to stay that way for good. Hence, she had a history of meaningless, physical relationships—not a lot, but enough to know that it was her preferred modus operandi.

And anything like a real relationship with a King would be totally impossible. Dating someone like Ares would come with so many strings that just the idea of it made Sofia want to run a mile. He couldn’t just mess around with someone, having fun when it suited them. He was expected to marry and make royal babies. She was aware of the fever pitch of speculation around his relationship with Louisa and personally hated anything like the idea of that kind of attention. Or pressure. Talk about being damned with high expectations.

But they were in the middle of nowhere together, sharing a tent, and what happened out here, in the forest, surely could stay out here in the forest? It was in both their interests to be discreet. But they were two consenting adults, and none of the reasons for resisting this chemistry seemed to outweigh the pressure of that chemistry.

The Santoros would know better than to get involved in her dating life, for a start. As much as she adored them and would hate for them to be disappointed in—or worried about—her, that wasn’t a reason to downplay her chemistry with Ares. As for thefact he was on the rebound, and a King, both were true. But for a short-term, physical fling, so what?

She didn’t mind being rebounded to. Hell, she knew it had happened at least once before. She’d slept with a guy whose heart had been trampled six months earlier, and it hadn’t mattered to her that he was still hung up on the woman from his past—because Sofia had only been interested in those few nights, spread over about a month. It had been casual, flirty, and fun. Just the kind of thing she liked.

These thoughts and rationalisations chased themselves through her head all day, so when they reached the peak of the summit, she barely even noticed. Her mind was abuzz.

“Well?” Ares’s deep voice broke through her concentration. She turned to look at him and her heart skipped a beat. In the palace, he’d been AI levels of perfection, but out here, he was so much more rugged and wild. So untamed and…beastly beautiful. She swallowed; her mouth suddenly desert dry. “What do you think?”

It took her a few seconds to drag her gaze away from him, and take in the panoramic view, but when she did, she let out a sound of surprise. For the forest had cleared up here, allowing a spectacular view back towards the city, and beyond it, to the ocean. The sun was setting, though it was still light enough to make out some of the details of the city buildings, such as the ornate palace, and the world-famous library—a relic from the renaissance, and one of the largest collections of ancient books in the world.

“It’s…beautiful,” she said, aware of how insufficient that word was. “Truly breathtaking.”

“It helps keep things in perspective,” he said with a lift of one shoulder. “This is my country. My people.” He breathed in deeply. “This is my purpose in life.”

He spoke as if the words were dredged from deep within his soul and for a moment, she envied him that sense of purpose and self. Having been cast adrift as a nine-year-old girl, Sofia had been left to fill in the blanks for such a long time, she often felt rudderless. Had it not been for the Santoros, she would have been utterly at sea.

“Did it help you?” she asked, taking a step closer to him, on the edge of the clearing.

He angled his face towards her. “Did what help me?”

“When they died,” she said, the words a little uneven, because it was such a deeply personal question to be asking—and yet it didn’t feel wrong. “Did it help to have a reason to keep going?”

“I had four reasons,” he said, the words flattened of emotion, and yet she felt it coming off him in waves. “My three younger siblings, and my crown.”

“That’s a lot of weight for a fifteen-year-old to bear.”

“Yes.”

“Did you have help?”

His smile was grim. “More than I wanted, most days.”

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