Page 150
Story: Modern Romance June 2025 1-4
“I’ll wait for the baby to be born, so there can be no confusion. No more scandals. No question, ever, about legitimacy.” I take another deep breath, because this hurts. But I’m certain it’s the right thing to do. “We can divorce quietly. Then you can pick the appropriate wife that you deserve. A wife who will honor this legacy and enhance it. That’s what you deserve, Taio.”
I expect him to react. To do…something.
But he only stares down at me as if I have grown several extra heads, or perhaps started spouting off in a different language than the ones he speaks. He blinks, but there is no other reaction.
“This isn’t a trap,” I assure him, in case that’s what’s fueling him here. “I’ve so enjoyed my time here. I find this estate fascinating.”I love you,I think inside, but I can’t say it. I promised myself I wouldn’t say it. “But it made me deeply aware of what’s required here. And I am definitely not it.”
He steps back, something like thunder gathering on his face, as if a storm has swept in. A dark and dangerous storm. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”
I blink as I look at him. Then I frown. “What kind of question is that?”
And as I watch, it’s as if he…implodes.
As if everything is thunder, crashing and rolling.
He grips my shoulders, not tight enough to hurt, but in a firm way that calls me immediately to attention.
“What are you—” I begin. I can’t breathe. “I’m setting you free, Taio. It’s agift.”
“I don’t want an appropriate wife, Annagret,” he roars at me, his fingers gripping me tight, his eyes pure fire. “I wantyou.You little fool, I have only and ever wantedyou.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Istareupat him, aware that my mouth has dropped open, but it’s as if he transforms before my eyes as I look at him.
At first, I think he doesn’t look like himself at all.
But then I realize… It’s that nothing about this man is cold now.
His eyes areablazeand only getting hotter. It’s as if the bones of his face have rearranged before me as I look at him, as if I’m watching as he sheds his skin.
Or a mask.
It feels as if my heart might explode inside my chest.
Maybe it already has.
“I don’t understand…” I whisper.
“What I told you about finding your firm is true,” he seethes at me. “But it’s only part of the truth. Your picture is right there on that website for anyone to see, Annagret.”
I feel his hands tighten again on my shoulders, just briefly, and then he lets go. He steps back. And I feel winded.
But it looks as if he finally feels…like himself. There’s something majestic in howalivehe seems. Nothing cold. Nothingstern.
Somehow it makes me think of that night in the cottage, both of us stripped so bare, and not only of our clothes.
Tonight it feels like we’re standing on a cliff, waiting for a wind to come and not knowing whether it will push me back to safety or send me spiraling off into the unknown.
“I couldn’t get that picture of you out of my head,” he is telling me, this extraordinarily beautiful man, who must have any number of women toss themselves upon him wherever he goes. “It was something about you. Something about the way you held yourself. You know the picture I mean.”
“I do.” I shake my head. “I had Tess take it on a sidewalk to the tune of an entire irritated construction crew shouting at us to move. Not exactly a glamour shoot, Taio.”
The picture on the website, last I checked, is nothing special. We picked the particular building because it was brick. I stood in front of it, and tried to exudeLuc Garnierenergy into the camera.
I decide not to tell him that. It’s already weird.
“I found myself in New York for work. I need you to know that.” That, then, is stern. Or maybe solemn. “I did not fly there for the express purpose of locating you. But I was there. And I still had you in my head. So I went to the agency, thinking that I might make an appointment, though I was worried about exposure.”
I expect him to react. To do…something.
But he only stares down at me as if I have grown several extra heads, or perhaps started spouting off in a different language than the ones he speaks. He blinks, but there is no other reaction.
“This isn’t a trap,” I assure him, in case that’s what’s fueling him here. “I’ve so enjoyed my time here. I find this estate fascinating.”I love you,I think inside, but I can’t say it. I promised myself I wouldn’t say it. “But it made me deeply aware of what’s required here. And I am definitely not it.”
He steps back, something like thunder gathering on his face, as if a storm has swept in. A dark and dangerous storm. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”
I blink as I look at him. Then I frown. “What kind of question is that?”
And as I watch, it’s as if he…implodes.
As if everything is thunder, crashing and rolling.
He grips my shoulders, not tight enough to hurt, but in a firm way that calls me immediately to attention.
“What are you—” I begin. I can’t breathe. “I’m setting you free, Taio. It’s agift.”
“I don’t want an appropriate wife, Annagret,” he roars at me, his fingers gripping me tight, his eyes pure fire. “I wantyou.You little fool, I have only and ever wantedyou.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Istareupat him, aware that my mouth has dropped open, but it’s as if he transforms before my eyes as I look at him.
At first, I think he doesn’t look like himself at all.
But then I realize… It’s that nothing about this man is cold now.
His eyes areablazeand only getting hotter. It’s as if the bones of his face have rearranged before me as I look at him, as if I’m watching as he sheds his skin.
Or a mask.
It feels as if my heart might explode inside my chest.
Maybe it already has.
“I don’t understand…” I whisper.
“What I told you about finding your firm is true,” he seethes at me. “But it’s only part of the truth. Your picture is right there on that website for anyone to see, Annagret.”
I feel his hands tighten again on my shoulders, just briefly, and then he lets go. He steps back. And I feel winded.
But it looks as if he finally feels…like himself. There’s something majestic in howalivehe seems. Nothing cold. Nothingstern.
Somehow it makes me think of that night in the cottage, both of us stripped so bare, and not only of our clothes.
Tonight it feels like we’re standing on a cliff, waiting for a wind to come and not knowing whether it will push me back to safety or send me spiraling off into the unknown.
“I couldn’t get that picture of you out of my head,” he is telling me, this extraordinarily beautiful man, who must have any number of women toss themselves upon him wherever he goes. “It was something about you. Something about the way you held yourself. You know the picture I mean.”
“I do.” I shake my head. “I had Tess take it on a sidewalk to the tune of an entire irritated construction crew shouting at us to move. Not exactly a glamour shoot, Taio.”
The picture on the website, last I checked, is nothing special. We picked the particular building because it was brick. I stood in front of it, and tried to exudeLuc Garnierenergy into the camera.
I decide not to tell him that. It’s already weird.
“I found myself in New York for work. I need you to know that.” That, then, is stern. Or maybe solemn. “I did not fly there for the express purpose of locating you. But I was there. And I still had you in my head. So I went to the agency, thinking that I might make an appointment, though I was worried about exposure.”
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