Page 23 of Her Red Hot Secret Royal Fling

“It’s not.”Case closed.

She sighed softly, trying to suppress the response of obvious frustration. She felt everything she’d thought last night. She still believed that keeping things light and pared back to the physical was the best course, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t irked by the way he was walling himself off from her. Which was alotlike the pot calling the kettle black, she acknowledged wearily. She who had made an art form out of hiding anything too private from anyone and everyone.

“Are you still in love with her?” It was a strange question to ask. Somewhat out of body, given the way they were sitting. But it was almost like shewantedhim to say ‘yes’, because that would add an extra layer of protection against what they were doing. There were already so many reasons in place to accept that this was just a temporary fling, but if his heart was still firmly in the grasp of his ex, then Sofia’s own heart was definitely beyond touching.

He pulled away from her, standing, his back straight. She watched him walk away, cold suddenly, and aware that she was utterly naked while he was fully dressed. She looked around for her clothes—they were across the clearing. He’d really thrown them when he’d undressed her, and she hadn’t even noticed. She hadn’t been capable of noticing anything but him.

“You don’t have to walk away from me,” she said, with icy hauteur. “It’s just a question, and like any question, you have a right not to answer. You just have to use your words.”

He spun around to face her, exasperation on his features before he saw that she was reaching for her clothes. Before he saw her, something softened on his face, cooling what had obviously been a moment of temper.

“I don’t know how to answer,” he said, finally. Simply. Honestly. “I don’t want to talk about Louisa. I particularly don’t want to talk about Louisa with you. It feels disloyal.”

It took Sofia a moment to realise that he meant disloyal to Louisa, and not Sofia. Her insides tightened, and her heart, so used to rejection and pain, thumped reassuringly.

We’ve got this. Don’t worry. You’ve been hurt before, and you’ve always been fine.

“Okay, then,” she shrugged like it didn’t matter. “What’s for lunch?” The question was no-nonsense, her voice carefully intoned with a hint of lightness she was struggling to feel.

“Sofia,” he sighed. “I thought we had an understanding. Neither of us wants to talk about our past relationships, do we?”

He was calling her out for her evasiveness from the night before. She bit into her lower lip and nodded. That was certainly the case for Sofia, but then again, she hardly had much of a past to talk about. She’d had lovers, but not that many, and no one of note. No one she’d really thought of again after she’d ended their relationship. What would she tell him? That she had no interest in putting herself on the line again? That if her own mother didn’t even love her, why would anyone else?

“No.” Usually, Sofia was able to hide her feelings, but for the briefest moment, her veneer cracked and the word was loaded with pity. Anger. Feelings.

She blinked quickly and looked away. “We don’t have to stay an extra night. It was just a stupid idea.”

He made a gruff sound of impatience and strode across to her. “Ilikethe idea.” He pressed a finger to her chin, angling her face to his, and then moved his hands to cup her cheeks. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

It was such a lovely, kind, normal, respectful sentiment that the crack in her veneer seemed to widen, and she felt the sting of tears at the back of her eyes. She blinked quickly to forestall something so stupid.

“Then let’s not fight.” And because she knew she could hide in the attraction they felt for one another, she lifted up onto her tiptoes and kissed him slowly. “There’s far better ways for us to spend this time, you know…”

CHAPTER SEVEN

AS THE SUN dipped lower in the sky, and Sofia sat at his side, wrapped in a blanket, but naked beneath, Ares couldn’t help thinking how right everything seemed. He watched as she took a sip from the flask of whisky and passed it to him. He put the lid on without drinking, eyes shifting to their fire—a golden glow to match that of the sky.

“Will this cause scheduling difficulties for you?”

“My first day back was going to be taken up with the project.”

“Ah. Well, we can use our time to talk about that tomorrow,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

He laughed, but felt compelled to say, “Sofia, about that…”

Her lips curved in the hint of a smile. “Yes?”

“This can’t affect my recommendation.”

Her brows knitted together. “Recommendation? You mean you don’t make the full decision?”

“I’ll make a recommendation to the Prime Minister. She’ll sign off on it.”

“Is she likely to question your recommendation?”

“No.”

“Okay. So, it is your decision.”

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