Page 21
Story: Modern Romance June 2025 5-8
‘Breathe, Cerys,’ he demanded in that cool, controlled voice.
She dragged in an unsteady breath, releasing it slowly as he held her.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. This just feels so wrong…’ How could she have given in to this hunger, this need, without a thought to the consequences, or her circumstances?
‘Do not apologise,’ he said as he captured her chin and turned her head so he could peer into her eyes.
‘I will purchase a new dress for my sister. Not you.’ His gaze raked over her, assessing, searching. But the detachment, the control she had always sensed before, was gone. He seemed different somehow—less rigid, almost tender, despite the guarded look in those dark eyes.
She let out a shattered breath and swallowed down the new surge of panic. And need.
He brushed his thumb across her cheek, to hook her hair behind her ear. The gentle touch, and the concern in his eyes, had the emotions welling all over again.
The yearning to belong to him, to belong here though, was the scariest thing of all…
‘And I will buy you a new wardrobe, so you have no need to borrow Ana’s clothing again,’ he added, the certainty in his voice almost as disturbing as the strange sense of connection, of intimacy, which felt too needy…
She shook her head. ‘You can’t do that, Santiago. I can’t accept it. How on earth would I explain your generosity to Ana? She already thinks we’re…’
‘Forget about Ana. This is not about my sister. This is about us.’
Us.
The word struck at the heart of all her insecurities. All the things she worried about late at night. The crushing loneliness—the intermittent surges of anxiety—which she had no trouble dismissing during the day, when she made herself concentrate on living in the moment and tried not to panic about her lost past. But they tormented her before she fell asleep, or in dreams, when the images which had disturbed her yesterday sneaked into her head without warning.
‘But…there is no us,’ she said.
She couldn’t let his approval or his generosity—or the hot look in his eyes, which he was making no attempt to hide—mean too much. She was lonely, yes, and anxious too now, about why her memory hadn’t fully restored itself yet. What if she was the one holding it back, subconsciously? Because she wanted to stay here, always…
‘Cerys, we have become lovers.’ His unruly thumb skimmed down, to press against the skittering pulse in her collarbone. His gaze darkened, making her heart lurch in her chest. ‘Of course there is an us.’
Lovers.
Her pulse skipped and bobbled, her breathing accelerating again.
Was he saying what she thought he was saying? That he wanted to make love to heragain? That this wasn’t a mistake? A disaster? One night of madness they both needed to forget.
How would that even work, when he was a duke—and she was, quite literally, a nobody?
‘I am your first lover.’ The possessiveness in his voice was reflected in his fierce expression. ‘Youronlylover. If wrong has been done, it is by me, not you, Cerys.’
‘No, Santiago, don’t say that…’ She leapt off the bed and out of his arms, dragging the torn dress up to cover her nakedness from that searing gaze that still made her feel so needy. ‘I wanted you to make love to me, very much…’ She swallowed. ‘And I enjoyed it, a lot.’
He draped the sheet across his lap with a relaxed grace which suggested he was covering himself to protect her modesty rather than his own. Then his lips curved in a sensual smile.
‘I am glad,’ he murmured.
Her whole body flushed with heat and embarrassment when he let out a low chuckle, so husky it scraped over her skin. And provoked a reaction in the parts of her he had already awakened so thoroughly.
‘I’m going to shut up now. I keep making it worse,’ she said, knowing she had never felt more gauche and out of her depth in her life. ‘I just… I don’t want you to feel bad about me being a virgin. Because you absolutely shouldn’t. You didn’t know. Because I didn’t tell you… And I should have.’
‘Except you didn’t know either…’ he murmured softly, still with that devastatingly sensual smile on his lips, although his expression looked serious rather than amused.
But as she struggled to figure out how to explain herself, so he would see that if anyone was at fault here it was her, he snagged her wrist and drew her towards him.
‘I do not think what we did was wrong,’ he said, the confidence in his voice belied by the intense expression. ‘We have a rare and exceptional chemistry, Cerys. Something I have never felt before.’ He took her hand, threaded his fingers through hers to tug her closer, until she was positioned between his thighs. Even though he had to look up, seated on the bed, he still seemed dominant somehow. His thumb stroked her wrist. Her heartbeat became even more erratic, the approval in his gaze overwhelming. ‘I have never wanted a woman as I have wanted you. Ever since our first meeting.’
That would be the meeting she couldn’t remember and so desperately wished she could.
She dragged in an unsteady breath, releasing it slowly as he held her.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. This just feels so wrong…’ How could she have given in to this hunger, this need, without a thought to the consequences, or her circumstances?
‘Do not apologise,’ he said as he captured her chin and turned her head so he could peer into her eyes.
‘I will purchase a new dress for my sister. Not you.’ His gaze raked over her, assessing, searching. But the detachment, the control she had always sensed before, was gone. He seemed different somehow—less rigid, almost tender, despite the guarded look in those dark eyes.
She let out a shattered breath and swallowed down the new surge of panic. And need.
He brushed his thumb across her cheek, to hook her hair behind her ear. The gentle touch, and the concern in his eyes, had the emotions welling all over again.
The yearning to belong to him, to belong here though, was the scariest thing of all…
‘And I will buy you a new wardrobe, so you have no need to borrow Ana’s clothing again,’ he added, the certainty in his voice almost as disturbing as the strange sense of connection, of intimacy, which felt too needy…
She shook her head. ‘You can’t do that, Santiago. I can’t accept it. How on earth would I explain your generosity to Ana? She already thinks we’re…’
‘Forget about Ana. This is not about my sister. This is about us.’
Us.
The word struck at the heart of all her insecurities. All the things she worried about late at night. The crushing loneliness—the intermittent surges of anxiety—which she had no trouble dismissing during the day, when she made herself concentrate on living in the moment and tried not to panic about her lost past. But they tormented her before she fell asleep, or in dreams, when the images which had disturbed her yesterday sneaked into her head without warning.
‘But…there is no us,’ she said.
She couldn’t let his approval or his generosity—or the hot look in his eyes, which he was making no attempt to hide—mean too much. She was lonely, yes, and anxious too now, about why her memory hadn’t fully restored itself yet. What if she was the one holding it back, subconsciously? Because she wanted to stay here, always…
‘Cerys, we have become lovers.’ His unruly thumb skimmed down, to press against the skittering pulse in her collarbone. His gaze darkened, making her heart lurch in her chest. ‘Of course there is an us.’
Lovers.
Her pulse skipped and bobbled, her breathing accelerating again.
Was he saying what she thought he was saying? That he wanted to make love to heragain? That this wasn’t a mistake? A disaster? One night of madness they both needed to forget.
How would that even work, when he was a duke—and she was, quite literally, a nobody?
‘I am your first lover.’ The possessiveness in his voice was reflected in his fierce expression. ‘Youronlylover. If wrong has been done, it is by me, not you, Cerys.’
‘No, Santiago, don’t say that…’ She leapt off the bed and out of his arms, dragging the torn dress up to cover her nakedness from that searing gaze that still made her feel so needy. ‘I wanted you to make love to me, very much…’ She swallowed. ‘And I enjoyed it, a lot.’
He draped the sheet across his lap with a relaxed grace which suggested he was covering himself to protect her modesty rather than his own. Then his lips curved in a sensual smile.
‘I am glad,’ he murmured.
Her whole body flushed with heat and embarrassment when he let out a low chuckle, so husky it scraped over her skin. And provoked a reaction in the parts of her he had already awakened so thoroughly.
‘I’m going to shut up now. I keep making it worse,’ she said, knowing she had never felt more gauche and out of her depth in her life. ‘I just… I don’t want you to feel bad about me being a virgin. Because you absolutely shouldn’t. You didn’t know. Because I didn’t tell you… And I should have.’
‘Except you didn’t know either…’ he murmured softly, still with that devastatingly sensual smile on his lips, although his expression looked serious rather than amused.
But as she struggled to figure out how to explain herself, so he would see that if anyone was at fault here it was her, he snagged her wrist and drew her towards him.
‘I do not think what we did was wrong,’ he said, the confidence in his voice belied by the intense expression. ‘We have a rare and exceptional chemistry, Cerys. Something I have never felt before.’ He took her hand, threaded his fingers through hers to tug her closer, until she was positioned between his thighs. Even though he had to look up, seated on the bed, he still seemed dominant somehow. His thumb stroked her wrist. Her heartbeat became even more erratic, the approval in his gaze overwhelming. ‘I have never wanted a woman as I have wanted you. Ever since our first meeting.’
That would be the meeting she couldn’t remember and so desperately wished she could.
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