Page 71 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 5-8
Now he’s looking at me like…like a man looks at a woman he wants. And God help me, my body is responding in a way it hasn’t in years.
No, I admit as my breathing turns shallow. Never. I’ve never felt this before, this desire that sinks into my bones. Each blaze of heat flickering across my skin is more seductive than any dance I’ve performed.
Far more dangerous than anything I’ve ever done with fire dancing.
I step back farther, needing the physical distance to rein in my chaotic thoughts. I can’t imagine not working for Aiden, not analyzing market analyses and client profiles, reconciling the two as he and I discuss the potential routes and recommendations. But how can I continue working for him after this? After he’s gotten a glimpse behind the walls that have kept me safe for years?
“If necessary, I’ll submit my resignation on Monday.”
His eyes widen. His lips part, as if he’s about to retort, but I brush past him and walk back down the path.
I have one performance left. I’ll need to be careful. I’m upset, out-of-sorts. That’s when mistakes happen, when performers get burned. I’ll take my performance down a notch.
And then I’m going to go home, opening a bottle of merlot, and not talk to anyone else for the rest of the weekend.
Especially Aiden Hawke.
Chapter Three
Aiden
COOL AIR CHILLSthe water droplets clinging to my skin as I haul myself out of the pool. I sit on the edge, my calves still submerged, my breathing harsh. My blood is pumping, heart racing as I stare at the rippling water.
For a precious thirty minutes, there was nothing but the water and me. No thoughts of Seraphina, no memories of how she felt in my arms, no faint gasp echoing in my ears as her eyes met mine.
My fingers tighten on the edge of the pool. In three years, I’ve never once seen Seraphina so much as give me a flirtatious glance. But last night, if I’d lowered my mouth to hers, there’s no doubt in my mind she would have kissed me back.
Blood rushes to my cock as images fill my mind. The sensuous twist of her hips as she spun, the way her skirt parted to show her bare legs as she leaped with fire in her hands.
Legs I can easily picture wrapped around my waist as I slide deep inside her.
Fuck.
I stand and stalk across the terrace to the chaise longue where I tossed my water bottle and towel. I flip open the lid and chug the entire bottle. As I grab the towel and wrap it around my hips, I stare out over Central Park. It’s just six o’clock in the morning. Mist clings to the trees over a thousand feet below me. The sun’s already broken the horizon but is still hidden behind the sweep of skyscrapers and mammoth structures that make up New York City.
One of my favorite times of the day, when the city is the closest to quiet it will ever get. When I can stand and take it all in, look down on the streets that once treated me with such disdain, and know that I now stand above.
But there’s no pride this morning, no satisfaction. Instead, there’s lust. Obsession. Three years of suppressing my attraction for Seraphina, all that effort erased by my carelessness.
I turn my back on the city and walk through the terrace doors into my penthouse just in time to hear the shrill ring of my phone. I frown as I walk toward the kitchen. Who the hell is calling me just after sunrise on a Sunday morning?
Seraphina.
No. Judging by the way she ran last night after dropping her bombshell comment about resigning, I’m the last person she wants to talk to now. Although I should probably text her today and disabuse her of that notion. I don’t fault her for thinking the worst. I didn’t exactly do a good job of explaining why I followed her or why I was upset.
Hell, I could barely figure it out myself. I normally have an iron grip on myself. But when our eyes met, when I realized who the seductive fire dancer was, I had to follow her. Had to talk to her, demand answers.
Instead, I nearly made the mistake of a lifetime.
I’ll fix this, one way or another. It might take a generous bump in pay or an extra vacation, but I will do whatever it takes to keep Seraphina at Hawke Financial.
The phone stops ringing as I near the kitchen, only to immediately squawk again seconds later. I grab it from where I laid it next to the coffeepot. I read the name on the screen and frown.
“Morning, Randolph. Everything okay?”
“What the hell do you think, Hawke?”
Randolph’s furious words snap across the line. Irritation takes hold. I wait a moment, breathe in then out, get a hold on my anger before I answer.
