Page 50 of Her Red Hot Secret Royal Fling

What were the chances that he might fall in love with her? That he might actually care for her, as she was afraid she wasstarting to care for him? Unlike Sofia, Ares was on the rebound. He’d loved Louisa. Had been planning to marry her. And now, only a couple of months later, Sofia had appeared, and they’d fallen into an intense, satisfying relationship, but how much of this, for Ares, was just about forgetting Louisa? Maybe his intensity was just a sort of romantic redemption, and nothing more?

Whereas for Sofia, he was…everything.

The sentiment had her heart stammering almost to a stop.

She had to run away—fast. He was quicksand, just as she’d thought already, and she wasn’t going to be trapped.

“I’m flattered,” she said, a little unevenly, when she trusted her voice to speak. “But it wouldn’t work for me. I’m going to leave today, as planned, and then move on with my life.”

Please don’t argue.If he argued, she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to stay strong for.

“Move on with your life,” he repeated, frowning, the words a little sharp. “And what exactly does that look like?”

“It means working out what I want to do for work, for one thing. I graduated with a few great offers, which I turned down for the Santoro position.”

“And friends? Love?”

Her blood turned cold at the slight sneer in his voice.

“Don’t do this,” she warned quietly. “I know this isn’t what you want, but don’t fight with me for the sake of it.”

His lips parted in obvious surprise and his eyes widened. “I don’t want to fight with you, but I don’t want you to go yet.”

“I know. But staying is too hard.”

“Harder than leaving will be?”

“Don’t you get it? I’ll always have to leave, at some point. I’d rather do it on my own terms, when I’m ready.”Not when you decide for me to leave. Not when you no longer want me.

He stared at her with those intelligent, assessing eyes and then a moment later, nodded curtly. “Okay. Forget I brought this up.”

She nodded, but there was no way Sofia would forget anything about her time with Ares, including the way he casually, yet easily, almost proposed marriage.

Sofia and Salvatorespent the day on site, in what would have been a pleasant analysis of the project, if it weren’t for the fact Sofia was utterly distracted—and deep down, distraught—by the conversation she’d had with Ares that morning. Possibilities played like a kaleidoscope in her brain. Her future felt like some kind of Rubik’s Cube, that she was twisting and turning but knew she’d never succeed in lining up so the colours worked. That just wasn’t her lot in life.

The day went from bad to worse, with the arrival on site of the Valentino delegation, led by a woman she vaguely remembered seeing in magazines. Emme?

After an awkward period of pretending to ignore each other, the Valentino woman broke the stand-off first, walking over with panache in sky-high heels, her silky brown hair secured in a neat ponytail.

“You must be the Santoros,” she said, looking at Sofia first, then Salvatore, whom her eyes clung to a little longer than necessary. Hardly any wonder. Salvatore was a classic Santoro—tall, dark, handsome, chiseled face, honed body, and that God-given confidence, as though he was in command of the entire earth.

“I’m not,” Sofia volunteered, stepping forward and extending her hand. “Sofia Marone.”

“But you’re as good as,” Salvatore was right behind her, extending his hand next. “Salvatore.”

“Salvatore,” she repeated, frowning a little. “I’m Emilia. Emme.” She cleared her throat and pulled her hand away, then turned towards the coastline. “It’s an incredible position, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Salvatore murmured. “I’m going to enjoy overseeing the development of it.”

Emme’s lips lifted into a grudging half-smile. “You’re a little cocky, aren’t you?”

Sofia took a few steps away from them, not interested in their professional sparring. She didn’t have the energy for it. Besides, it was pointless to grandstand at this stage. Ares hadn’t made up his mind, and Sofia had no clue which way he’d go. She knew only that he wouldn’t allow their personal relationship to influence him, one way or the other. Which was a good thing, because he may well have decided that their relationship excluded them from the job.

No, this choice had to be about the merits of the tender proposals, and nothing more. She kept walking, towards the ocean, leaving Emilia Valentino and Salvatore Santoro no doubt sniping at one another in the distance. And if they thought her behaviour was strange, she didn’t much care about that either.

She didn’t care about anything. Inside, Sofia was numb, and she was glad. Numb was protective. Numb was safe. Numb would see her through the next few hours, and onto the plane home. Numb was her friend.

Until it wasn’t.

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