Page 24 of Ungodly Rich

“Because I love her,” Ares said quietly.

Aphrodite laughed again. “Loveher? Come on, Ares, you’reusingher. You brought her here to deflect attention from us. Which was smart, by the way—”

Ares silenced her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He glanced about, then drew Aphrodite toward the steps that led up to the captain’s deck, out of sight of the rest of the party.

“I’m not using Julia. I love her,” he said again.

This was ridiculous. How could Ares think he loved some ordinary mortal, after he had slept withher? The notion was downright insulting.

“You’ve forgotten what love feels like.” She nudged closer to him, her breasts brushing against his chest. “I can remind you, though. I swear that I’ll make sure that no one sees us this time.”

“Thereisno ‘this time,’ ” Ares said firmly, stepping back.

“Maybe not here on Olympus, but—”

“No, Aphrodite. Never again.”

Aphrodite looked at the flat and unyielding planes of Ares’s face. Impossibly, unbelievably, he meant what he said. He really was telling her no.

Never in all her years had Aphrodite been rejected. It was a decidedly unpleasant sensation.

“You’re going to regret this,” she warned.

Aphrodite whirled back onto the deck with the anger of every woman in history who had ever been scorned. Her gold bangles clinked with each step.

None of this was right. The sky should have been below her and the sea above, the entire world turned upside down, because that was the only explanation for why Ares had refused to intercede for her with Hera—then refusedher.

Who the hell did Ares think he was, dismissing the goddess of love? Did he think he was more powerful than desire? Well, she would prove him wrong.

No one rejected Aphrodite and got away with it.

Chapter Ten

Julia

Julia had never seen a party like this, except in the pages of a glossy magazine covering some celebrity wedding. Itfelta bit like a wedding, with long rectangular tables arranged on the lawn. Gardenias, roses, and calla lilies spilled down the center of each table in glorious profusion, lit by dozens of enormous white tapers. There was no tent: the tables sat beneath the open skies, offering a spectacular view of the sunset over the water. Julia wondered if there had been any kind of rain plan, or if the Ellenes simply expected the weather to do their bidding, the way everything else in the world seemed to.

A waiter hovered nearby with a tray of hors d’oeuvres, but Julia didn’t take any. The so-called cocktail hour had stretched to a second hour, the laughter and conversation growing rowdier as everyone consumed glass after glass of champagne. Guests drifted about the lawn in maxi dresses that whipped around their ankles, or in sport coats and bow ties. Even Harry had put on a light blue jacket over his crisp white shirt, with loafers that she hadn’t realized he owned.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Of course,” she assured him, grateful when he reached for her hand. She normally didn’t wear much jewelry, but this morning when she’d woken up, Julia had put on her mom’s ring. It was just a plain brass band, nothing at all compared to the diamonds and bangles flashing around her, but wearing it made Julia feel better. She had the reassuring sense that her mother, Claire, was there with her, reminding Julia of her own strength.

Reminding her not to take shit from anyone. Even billionaires.

“Harry!” Tara bustled toward them, wearing a dramatic dress with elbow-length sleeves. She gestured to the tall, broad-shouldered man at her side. “Can you come help your brother move the iron bench? The string quartet says it’s in their way.”

The words were normal enough on the surface, but there was a frantic energy beneath them that made Julia pause. Weren’t there plenty of other men, not to mention staff, on this island who could move heavy objects?

Julia cast a curious glance at Harry’s brother. Though she’d met Alina the moment they arrived, she hadn’t yet seen Harry’s other sibling this weekend. His muscled shoulders strained beneath his sports coat. He had a close-cropped beard and soft-brown eyes, which were currently fixed on his brother.

“Harry. You’re back,” Hector said slowly.

Julia blinked, startled by the odd greeting. Had Hector not seen Harry since his arrival? Surely he’d run into his brother on the boat earlier?

“I am.” Harry hesitated, then added, “Is that okay?”

“It’s not as if you need my permission.”