Page 155 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 5-8
She knew what professional interest looked like—what that male gaze was searching for when a man studied her as a boxer. She also recognized the look of a fragile male ego who wanted to conquer. She knew how all sorts of ways people looked at her when she boxed.
Nothing like Zervou. Nothing with any kind of sexual pull. Maybe she didn’t know a thing about sex, but she knew that this feeling could only have to do with that.
Which meant she was walking a dangerous line. But that was nothing new, she reminded herself before stepping out of the bathroom into the spacious, bright guest bedroom that looked out over Corfu.
She had never even thought to picture herself up here, in a fancy house. She hadn’t even considered being lucky enough toworkat a place such as this. Never once in her life. Her dreams were much more realistic and humble.
Fight to survive. The extent of her dreams had been rest. And, okay, revenge on the father who’d caused so much of her struggle.
Now she was in this mansion as a kind of…guest.
Zervou stood looking out the window, hands behind his back. Tall. Still. Outrageously handsome and sure of everything he did. Powerful.
How she ached to have some kind of power over her life. Perhaps that was what made being in his orbit more and more enjoyable. Perhaps that was what made him feel something close to irresistible.
“We might need to discuss how appropriate some of your clothing choices are,” she said to his back.
He turned slowly. He said nothing at first. His dark, fierce eyes did the talking. His gaze took a tour. And took its time.
She liked that. There was no denying the heat in his eyes sparked some heat inside her. Some primitive desire. Knowing he found her some kind of enticing made herfeelenticing.
His gaze made her wonder what it would be like for his hands to take the same path. Would she let him tonight? Would he offer? He had barely touched her since that kiss. Oh, he’d done plenty of looking, but his hands and body had remained resolutely to himself.
It had to be a purposeful choice, though she didn’t know why.
When his eyes met hers, and it felt like some kind of mini explosion erupting between them, she figured she didn’t need to know why he waited. Even if not tonight, some kind of offer seemed inevitable.
Necessary.
“I cannot identify one problem with what you’re wearing. I have excellent taste.”
She laughed in spite of herself.Soarrogant.
His smile in return was sharp. Predatory.
Why did pleasure receptors across her abdomen seem to spring to life at that?
“It is a club. The attire is meant to be…” Again his gaze took a tour of her body. She felt…electrified, but pleasantly. A buzzing. A throbbing deep in her body. “Breathable. For dancing.”
Breathable.She rolled her eyes. What rot. But she didn’t argue with him. She instead followed him through his ridiculous house and out to the ridiculous garage full of vehicles. “Do you have this many cars at…where do you live full-time?”
“Wherever I like,” he returned.
“But surely you have a home base,” she said, sliding into the car after he’d opened the door for her.
He came around and got in the driver seat. He hadn’t driven them to any of their dinners. It was a strange change of pace. It made everything feel more…intimate. Real.
Nowthatis going too far.
“Home base? No.” He shook his head as if the idea was ludicrous. “I follow the business. Buy property wherever feels optimal. Or enjoyable. There is no need for a base when you are rich.”
Optimal.The word was so devoid of any emotion. Not that she had any great love for her home base, but it was home. It was…the ground from which she’d grown. Her roots were tangled in the poor, desperate soil.
“Where did you grow up then?” she asked him, wanting some sense of who he was at those roots. Maybe then she’d have a better handle on him.
“A small village near the Bulgarian border,” he replied somewhat flatly.
“Do you ever go back?”
