Page 125 of Modern Romance December 2025 1-4

There is something in his voice, something in his eyes, that makes me feel hot, as if my skin has suddenly become too hot and too tight. It sounds like a threat, yet I don’t feel threatened. It’s more as if he’s issued me with a challenge.

‘Dragonfly?’ I arch a brow. ‘Is that a special Sicilian thing?’

‘No.’ His gaze touches on my hair. ‘Your hair clips.’

Oh, that’s right. I forgot about those. I noticed them in a shop while I was sightseeing yesterday, and I thought they would go perfectly with the dress I was going to wear to the gala. I don’t get the chance to dress up often and I always like it when I do. Pretty jewellery and pretty dresses and shoes are my weakness, and tonight I feel like a princess in my scarlet gown and jewelled clips.

I feel like a princess when Rafael stares at me too.

We arrive at the valet-parking area and don’t have to wait long for Rafael to have his car brought around. I don’t know what kind of car it is, but it’s sleek and low-slung, and very beautiful. It’s also the same shade of scarlet as my dress. The doors open like a bird’s wings and I slip into the dark luxurious interior. It smells of leather and new car, and my heart is racing. Then it races even more as Rafael gets in beside me and the doors sweep gracefully down, enclosing us.

Georgios comes into the parking area just as we pull away from the kerb, and I can’t help but give him a jaunty wave, thrilled with myself for having outwitted him. He’ll come after me, of course—he knows where I’m going and he’ll track my phone anyway—but for now, for the first time in my life, I’m on my own with a strange man.

Rafael drives with supreme confidence, manoeuvring through the traffic with ease, the car sliding in and out of lanes as if it’s on rails.

‘Oh my God,’ I breathe, unable to contain my excitement. ‘This is such a beautiful car.’

‘It’s a McLaren,’ he says as we drive across a bridge. ‘Handles beautifully.’

‘So you like cars as well as driving them?’

‘Yes.’ He glances at me, onyx eyes glittering. ‘That’s three things you know about me now.’

I laugh, exhilaration swamping me. ‘I feel bad. You know only one thing about me.’

‘This is true. Which means you now owe me two facts about you.’

‘Hmmm.’ I make a show of thinking hard about what to say. ‘I like Singapore, how’s that?’

‘That’s one. I still need one more.’

‘I’m going to have to think about that.’ I give him a sidelong glance. His gaze is on the traffic in front of us, his large hands gripping the wheel with an easy mastery, and I can’t stop studying his profile. I can’t stop wondering about him and where he came from and why he affects me so powerfully.

The journey isn’t long enough and to my disappointment we pull into Raffles far before I’m ready. The valet instantly appears as Rafael stops the car and we both get out. Then we’re ushered into the hotel by the doorman.

Inside, the hotel is ornate and gilded and beautiful, and I feel Rafael’s hand settle lightly in the small of my back. His palm is warm and the heat of it soaks through the silk and into my skin, making goosebumps rise all over me.

I haven’t been touched by a man other than Ulysses since I was ten years old and so I’m acutely conscious of it. It feels different from when I grabbed his hand, because that was me touching him. Now he’s touching me and I feel…breathless. As if every inch of my skin has been numb and I hadn’t realised it, and now the numbness is fading, sending prickles of heat and sensation everywhere, like pins and needles.

I still can’t think of anything else as we enter the historic Long Bar.

It’s a shady space with floors of black and white tile, while the bar itself is all dark wood. Fans make the air cool and, while there are lots of people around, Rafael somehow manages to find us a cosy spot down one end of the bar.

His hand slips away as I perch on my bar stool, yet the warmth of his palm lingers on my skin. It makes my breath catch and my heart beat fast, adrenaline pumping hard through my veins. A part of me still can’t believe I’m sitting here, in a bar in Singapore with a strange man, and neither my brother nor any of his staff are present. It’s a miracle.

Rafael has ordered us both drinks and he sits with casual ease on his stool, his gaze burning into mine the way it did at the gala. It wants something from me, that gaze, something I can’t name and yet want to give him all the same.

Our drinks arrive and mine is pink with a straw and a big slice of pineapple on the rim of the glass. Rafael watches me as I take a sip. ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘The third thing you should know about me is that I like Singapore Slings.’

I’m expecting him to smile, but he doesn’t and I can’t stop the small dart of disappointment that goes through me. ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask before I think better of it.

He is silent so long I don’t think he’s going to answer, but finally he says, ‘You really shouldn’t have come with me tonight, dragonfly.’

‘Why not?’ I ask. ‘I mean, you really shouldn’t have come with me considering I might be a serial killer of serial killers.’

Again, he doesn’t smile. ‘My intentions are not pure.’

A shiver goes right through me, tightening my skin. I’m sheltered, yes, but I’m not as innocent as he seems to think. I’ve known violence and pain, and I know what men are capable of.