Page 86 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 1-4
He stared at her. She truly looked golden. He realised her makeup was done—her mouth was extra glossy. His lungs squeezed. Because she’d gone to the spa. She was always alluring, but she’d made an effort and he wasn’t wasting it with some tragic overtired overreaction.
‘Yes,’ he growled huskily. He needed to get out of here. ‘I’ll just… I won’t be long.’
‘Okay. I’ll get into my dress.’
He flicked the shower on freezing. He’d never before felt horror at beingalone. Helikedbeing alone. It was how he’d engineered his life. To focus on work. To be there when he had to be for Emiliano—but at a distance. But waking up and believing for a mere moment that Lily was gone? That had almost caused a heart attack. Her presence had become important to him.
No. The heat was getting to him or he was coming down with something. He was fine. He yanked on a suit, determined to get a grip. He was doing well. He’d juggled work and gotten an even more important deal over the line. She was thriving—hell, even in the few days they’d had here, her belly had rounded slightly. He had to get her to say yes to him so he could back the hell away.
She didn’t believe that she was an appropriate fit for his life; taking her out he would show she was wrong. Brooding, he stalked out to the lounge, caught sight of her and almost fell over his feet.
‘I’m a walking red flag,’ she joked.
‘It’s not a stop signal you’re sending me.’
‘No?’
She wasn’t wearing the white dress he’d expected. It was a red wisp designed to incite uncontrollable desire. It worked.
‘Come on.’ He had to get them out of there.
She was making a statement, just not the one she thought she was. She thought she wasn’t an appropriate partner for him? That she was a danger? She couldn’t look more perfect to him. He’d never been more grateful for an enormous car with a driver and a privacy screen he immediately enabled. Then he sat back and drank in the vitality in her eyes, her shining hair. God, she was blossoming.
‘Your skin is gleaming,’ he muttered.
‘It’s the beauty treatment.’
‘Not the treatment.’
She tilted her head, studying him as much as he was studying her. Only she seemed a little more calm about it.
‘Do you miss racing cars?’ she suddenly asked.
He blinked. ‘I don’t have time to miss racing cars.’
An immediate deflection but she saw right through it.
‘I think you do,’ she whispered. ‘You like to go fast.’
He lifted his collar away from his neck. Despite that icy shower, he felt unbearably hot. He’d had moments of unrest in his life, but this was something else.
‘You don’t do many of the things you like,’ she added. ‘It’s all for the company, never just for yourself.’
Oh she waswrong.
He leaned over and kissed her. Partly to silence her. Partly because he could no longer stop himself from doing the one thing he liked more than anything. But he fisted his hands, battling the impulse to fully stake his claim, to clamp her to his side so she couldn’t ever escape. She was so tempting, more powerful than the most addictive drug. Damn it, he needed to regain his self-control. But she kissed him back. She didn’t just kiss—she gave and he couldn’t help but take.
‘You wore this to deliberately torment me.’ He succumbed and fingered the siren-red silk strap.
His anger, his need, rose. He would torment her as she tormented him. If they weren’t driving, if there was no need for damned safety belts, he would have her astride him, riding him to oblivion in a heartbeat. Instead, he swooped over her, stroking, sliding his hands beneath her dress and over her hot body. The damned safety belt was suddenly useful for it kept her in place—hot and open to him. He teased her nipples to tight little peaks.
‘This is madness,’ she panted.
Ah, but she was close and that pushed him on. Lust-hazed need swept over him. He savoured her scent, sliding his tongue over her silky-smooth skin and nibbling at her sensitive tips. It was onlythis—only explosive, undeniable desire. But her little sob broke him wide-open and suddenly, all he wanted was toseeher. He pressed his forehead against hers. Locked his eyes on hers. While her thighs locked on the hand he’d slid between them. But he could flick his fingers and he knew just how she liked him to. He needed to see pleasure smash over her in that unstoppable wave.
‘Let it happen, sweetheart. Let me see you.’
He ached for her to take what little he could give her.
