Page 143 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 5-8
“When do I start?”
His mouth curved, danger and something that affected her body on some unknown cellular level glittered in his eyes. Her brain knew better than to trust this man, but it was as if there was some unknown force inside her overriding what her usually smart mind could determine.
“Tomorrow. I will pick you up for dinner. Be expecting a package in the morning with your required wardrobe.”
“I don’t love the wordrequired.”
He rose. He moved for the door, but that required him to brush past her in the tiny kitchen. He smelled like something faintly woodsy, no doubt an unimaginably expensive cologne.
He met her gaze, dark and intent. “Get used to it,” he said firmly before letting himself out the door.
Ari stood where she was, breathing through the effect this man had on her. Breathing through this…insanity she was agreeing to.
When the wardrobe came the next morning, along with information about a few rehabilitation centers in Greece—all of them luxurious, expensive and very private—Ari knew she was in trouble. But if this trouble came with her parents getting what they deserved—her mother help, her father punishment—then Ari would make whatever sacrifices, pay whatever costs.
No matter what.
Chapter Five
Zervou instructed hisdriver to park outside Ariadne’s apartment complex and then retrieve her, while Zervou waited in the car.
While he wanted to lure Erjon out of hiding, he knew he had to be careful. Two sightings in this—well,slumwas really the only word for it—within two days would be suspicious, but if it seemed like he was trying to hide his identity the second day…
Yes, that worked better for his purposes. Though he hated to give Erjon any credit, he’d been hunting the man for years to no avail. There was some intelligence in the man to be able to stay out of Zervou’s reach.
When his driver returned, Ariadne following behind him, Zervou watched. She had dressed in what he’d sent over this morning. Admittedly, he’d half expected her to be defiant for defiance’s sake and refuse.
But she wore the high-necked dress that went all the way down to the ground, hugging the lines of her body beautifully. Her arms were bare. Her hair was down in a riot of waves. If she wore makeup, it was minimal. A touch of color at her lips if that.
She looked dangerous in black. The musculature of her bare arms added to that danger, while the delicate gold rings she wore on her fingers and the band of dainty jewels around her wrist were the perfect hint of something softer, more elegant than the skilled brawler she was.
Perhaps the only nod to her own style was her usual hoops in her ears and nose and the shoes, which he only noticed as she was helped into the back seat—sneakers instead of the expensive sandals he’d supplied for her.
Since she somehow seemed to make it work, he didn’t nitpick. It lent an aura of credibility to the whole thing if she didn’t simply change overnight. “You look beautiful.”
She eyed him warily as she settled into the seat next to him. “I feel a bit ridiculous. Dresses and jewels aren’t my norm.” She held up her wrist and let the bracelets jangle against each other as if proving her point.
“They are now, for the time being.”
She made a vague kind of noise, no doubt meant to convey agreement without actually agreeing. She shifted in her seat, as if the luxurious limousine was somehow uncomfortable.
“Do you travel like this everywhere?” she asked, a hint of derision or disapproval in her tone.
“I travel in whatever ways I wish,” he returned, a little bolt of irritation surprising him. He’d long ago learned how to move through life without letting irritation eat him from the inside out. He had built himself into a man who did not have to deal with irritations or frustrations or annoying people. He studied Ariadne with some curiosity. He supposed she might be the exception. As Erjon’s daughter, he needed her—no matter how she behaved.
What a strange feeling.
“So, what exactly is the point of this dinner?”
“To be seen. Gossip is practically currency in the circles I walk among. We want all the rich and powerful in high society to want to know who my date is. The more the information permeates, the more it trickles down to the type of people Erjon associates with.”
She seemed to consider this, but her eyebrows remained beetled together, the faint hint of a frown tugging the corners of her lips down. Like she was confused.
“You may be required to smile at me, once or twice,” he offered. “A laugh or two wouldn’t go astray.” He reached out, skimmed a finger over the curve of her shoulder. He wasn’t surprised that she jerked at the touch. It was kind of the point. “And a touch cannot cause you to jump a foot,” he informed her.
She scowled. “I wasn’t expecting it. I’m used to punching in response to unannounced touches.” She laid this down as a bit of a challenge.
He couldn’t help but be amused. “You will have to get used to keeping those fists unclenched while we are together.” He placed his hand over hers—currently clenched in said fist. “Relax, Ariadne. There is no boxing match here. It is a meal. A bit of a performance.”
