Page 96
Story: Modern Romance June 2025 5-8
Annalena stopped at a mirror over the fireplace to gather her tattered control. She was a mess. Lipstick gone, hair coming down and a flush of sexual arousal emblazoned her throat and cheeks. Even her eyes looked different, heavy-lidded as if she’d just woken. Or left a lover’s bed.
‘It wasn’tunpleasant?’
His voice was edged like a sharpened blade. She should have known he’d take her words as a challenge. Shehadknown, and struck out rather than admit he’d affected her. But she didn’t have the energy to deal with his ego. Not when her world was crumbling.
It had just been a kiss yet it felt like far more. Shockwaves reverberated through her and she wanted to curl up, alone in her room. Better yet, leave this place and never face him again.
A huff of laughter escaped as she tidied her hair. No chance of that!
‘You find this funny, Annalena?’
In the mirror she saw he’d moved to stand behind her, tall, broad-shouldered and compelling. Something turned over in her belly and her pelvic muscles pulled tight.
You really are in trouble.
He could use her susceptibility against her. She had to defend against that.
‘Not at all.’ Defiantly she met his stare in the glass. ‘I was thinking how much I’d give to be anywhere else.’
His expression shifted and she almost fancied she saw understanding in his eyes. ‘It will get easier, Annalena. I’m not your enemy.’
She wished she could believe it.
You have to believe it or this marriage will destroy you.
Was it possible their relationship might be like Oma’s marriage? Not that there’d be love, she wasn’t naive. But was friendship possible, or at least respect and cooperation?
Benedikt held her gaze. ‘Whatever you’re thinking, Annalena, this isn’t the end of the world. It will be tough but we’ll find a way.’
She pivoted and he was closer than she’d anticipated. So close her unrepentant heart thrummed in excitement. So much for gathering her tattered self-possession! Yet there was no glint of smugness in his eyes. Nothing but calm certainty.
Despite the gnawing hurt that he hadn’t shared her desperate yearning, his expression settled a little of her tension. ‘We’ll be partners, Annalena. Is that so bad?’
Strange how the idea drew her. For so long she’d strived alone, fighting her battles with only her beloved Oma in the background, urging her on. Day to day Annalena had only herself. The thought of a partner, even if just for her formal responsibilities, was strangely attractive.
If she could set aside her doubts and trust him.
‘Help me?’ He took a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out.
After a moment Annalena took it, avoiding his fingers. She held the fabric that bore the warmth of his body. Then stepped close and raised the fine cotton to the lipstick smudge beside his mouth.
Again his scent engulfed her, making her insides squirm in excitement. But she concentrated on the stain, trying not to think of how it got there. Refusing to notice how his lips looked fuller from their kiss, or the quick pulse throbbing at his jaw.
When she stepped back it was to discover he’d retied his bow tie. Of course he could do it perfectly without a mirror! She held out his handkerchief.
Benedikt retrieved it without brushing her fingers.
She was grateful, not disturbed that he understood her need for distance. But her movements were abrupt as she stepped away.
‘I’ll just be a moment.’
Annalena could have finished tidying her hair where she was. Her purse with her lipstick was nearby. But she needed more, needed something to shore up her courage.
Thirty seconds later she was in the bathroom, reaching for the other lipstick the make-up expert had suggested for tonight. A deep scarlet rather than the pink she’d initially worn, it smoothed across her swollen lips, creamy and soothing. The colour was darker and defiant.
No, she amended, not defiant. Assured. She looked like a confident woman unfazed by the stunning couture gown, the imposing man who’d be her companion or the pomp and glitter of a royal celebration. A woman at home among hordes of people who’d wonder if she had what it took to be Queen.
Fake it till you make it.
‘It wasn’tunpleasant?’
His voice was edged like a sharpened blade. She should have known he’d take her words as a challenge. Shehadknown, and struck out rather than admit he’d affected her. But she didn’t have the energy to deal with his ego. Not when her world was crumbling.
It had just been a kiss yet it felt like far more. Shockwaves reverberated through her and she wanted to curl up, alone in her room. Better yet, leave this place and never face him again.
A huff of laughter escaped as she tidied her hair. No chance of that!
‘You find this funny, Annalena?’
In the mirror she saw he’d moved to stand behind her, tall, broad-shouldered and compelling. Something turned over in her belly and her pelvic muscles pulled tight.
You really are in trouble.
He could use her susceptibility against her. She had to defend against that.
‘Not at all.’ Defiantly she met his stare in the glass. ‘I was thinking how much I’d give to be anywhere else.’
His expression shifted and she almost fancied she saw understanding in his eyes. ‘It will get easier, Annalena. I’m not your enemy.’
She wished she could believe it.
You have to believe it or this marriage will destroy you.
Was it possible their relationship might be like Oma’s marriage? Not that there’d be love, she wasn’t naive. But was friendship possible, or at least respect and cooperation?
Benedikt held her gaze. ‘Whatever you’re thinking, Annalena, this isn’t the end of the world. It will be tough but we’ll find a way.’
She pivoted and he was closer than she’d anticipated. So close her unrepentant heart thrummed in excitement. So much for gathering her tattered self-possession! Yet there was no glint of smugness in his eyes. Nothing but calm certainty.
Despite the gnawing hurt that he hadn’t shared her desperate yearning, his expression settled a little of her tension. ‘We’ll be partners, Annalena. Is that so bad?’
Strange how the idea drew her. For so long she’d strived alone, fighting her battles with only her beloved Oma in the background, urging her on. Day to day Annalena had only herself. The thought of a partner, even if just for her formal responsibilities, was strangely attractive.
If she could set aside her doubts and trust him.
‘Help me?’ He took a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out.
After a moment Annalena took it, avoiding his fingers. She held the fabric that bore the warmth of his body. Then stepped close and raised the fine cotton to the lipstick smudge beside his mouth.
Again his scent engulfed her, making her insides squirm in excitement. But she concentrated on the stain, trying not to think of how it got there. Refusing to notice how his lips looked fuller from their kiss, or the quick pulse throbbing at his jaw.
When she stepped back it was to discover he’d retied his bow tie. Of course he could do it perfectly without a mirror! She held out his handkerchief.
Benedikt retrieved it without brushing her fingers.
She was grateful, not disturbed that he understood her need for distance. But her movements were abrupt as she stepped away.
‘I’ll just be a moment.’
Annalena could have finished tidying her hair where she was. Her purse with her lipstick was nearby. But she needed more, needed something to shore up her courage.
Thirty seconds later she was in the bathroom, reaching for the other lipstick the make-up expert had suggested for tonight. A deep scarlet rather than the pink she’d initially worn, it smoothed across her swollen lips, creamy and soothing. The colour was darker and defiant.
No, she amended, not defiant. Assured. She looked like a confident woman unfazed by the stunning couture gown, the imposing man who’d be her companion or the pomp and glitter of a royal celebration. A woman at home among hordes of people who’d wonder if she had what it took to be Queen.
Fake it till you make it.
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