Page 135 of Modern Romance December 2025 1-4
She has the grace to look away at that, but it shows more clearly the faint, dark shadows beneath her eyes, and the wave of protectiveness hits me again, the urge to wrap her up and put her to sleep in my bed almost overwhelming me. But I resist. We need to have this conversation and we need to have it now.
‘The baby is mine,’ I say into the heavy silence. ‘And I am going to claim it, Olympia. Which is why we will be getting married as soon as possible.’
Her head turns, her gaze snapping back to mine. ‘What?’
‘The child will have my name,’ I say. ‘It will be my heir and, for the greatest legal protection for both the baby and you, we need to marry.’
She blinks, obviously struggling to process what I’ve just said. ‘But…but I don’t want to marry you.’
‘I don’t care. You are marrying me and that is final.’
Her gaze flares and abruptly she pushes herself up off the couch, coming to stand right in front of me, all bright fury and challenge. ‘Just because you’re the father of my baby doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do. I amnotmarrying you, you stupid man. I am not marryinganyone.’
She’s standing very close and I can smell the deliciously sweet scent of her, roses after rain, and she’s warm, and instantly I’m so hard it’s almost painful. It’s inexplicable that I should feel this way, after all, I’ve already had her and it’s not as if I’ve been a monk in the months since. I shouldn’t be so hungry, so desperate, and yet my body isn’t listening to sense and she’s impossible to resist.
I can’t stop myself from reaching out to grip her upper arms and I hear the rush of her indrawn breath as my fingers close on the soft wool of her coat. Her eyes widen and her mouth opens. Her lips are as full and red as her coat, and I remember how they taste. I remember howshetastes and once again…Dio.
She’s breathing fast and, as I watch, her pupils dilate. She feels it too, I know she does. I can see it in her eyes, in the pulse that beats hard and fast at the base of her throat. I don’t move and neither does she as our gazes lock and hold.
‘You have been haunting me for four months, dragonfly,’ I hear myself say in a rough voice, even though I never meant to speak. ‘You need to stop.’
She takes a shaky breath. ‘Why? It was clear you were done with me when you told me to leave.’
Beneath the fury in her amber eyes, I see the hurt. I can hear it in her voice, too. I heard it that same night, just before she walked out the door, but that was because I wanted her to forget me. Yet it’s clear she hasn’t and, even though it’s wrong, that pleases me. That pleases meintensely.
‘I lied.’ I should release her, yet my fingers tighten instead.
She doesn’t seem to notice. Her amber gaze searches mine, searching for the truth. ‘Why?’
I can’t give her the truth. I can’t tell her my real motivations, not at this delicate stage. The shock might hurt her and the baby, and for some reason I can’t stand the thought of that, so I settle for a lesser truth. ‘Because I am a bad man. And I thought it was better if you stayed away from me.’
‘A bad man,’ she echoes, her gaze dropping to my mouth and then back up again. Her breathing has accelerated, I can hear it. She’s hungry. She’s hungry just like me. ‘I don’t think you are.’
‘You don’t know me.’ I can feel her heat, her luscious body so close to mine, and I can’t think with her so close. I should step away. I can’t afford to be distracted while we’re discussing this and yet I can’t make myself release her. ‘You know nothing about me.’
Her hands are rising, fingers curling around the lapels of my coat, her gaze on mine hypnotic. ‘But you know about me, don’t you? You know my brother, too.’
The blood is pumping hard in my veins, the scent of her winding around me. She’s going to guess my secret if I’m not careful and I can’t have her doing that. I need to take control of this somehow and yet it feels impossible. The basest parts of me are now in command and I can’t resist.
‘Show me,’ I grit out, releasing her arms to grip the edges of her coat instead. ‘Show me what I did to you.’
She blinks, not understanding for a moment. Then she does, and colour riots over her face. ‘I don’t think—’
But I’m already pulling open her coat and glancing down. She’s wearing a simple, stretchy black dress that moulds to her every curve, including the small rounded bump of her stomach. Where my child lies.
Possessiveness slides long fingers around my throat, choking me. The sight has turned me into the most basic version of myself, and I put out a hand to touch her, tracing that soft curve.
I never wanted a wife or children, even though my childhood was idyllic. But after my father died the child I once was would have been horrified at the things I did to survive. To work my way up the command chain until I owned the company I used to work for. To make it one of the biggest construction companies in Europe in a few short years. The people I dealt with, the sacrifices I made, the blind eyes I turned and all to get where I am today. Positioned perfectly to take Vulcan Energy out from under Ulysses Zakynthos’s nose.
I’d make a terrible father and I know it, yet the fact that I will be one is staring me in the face and I can’t walk away. I should, of course. Let her go and let my child go with her, and yet I’m not going to. I will keep them both, even if I have to destroy myself to do so.
She shivers as I lay a palm on her stomach and I meet her gaze. She’s so warm, her pupils dilating as my fingers trace that beautiful curve. And I don’t stop. I slide my hand down, cupping her stomach, watching the colour burn in her cheeks. Her mouth opens and a breath escapes her as I slide my hand down even further, down between her thighs and pressing gently through the fabric of her dress.
Her fingers grip the lapels of my coat tightly, her breathing getting faster as I press harder. ‘Rafael…’ she whispers, her gaze still pinned to mine.
I can see desperation there and rising flames, and so I don’t stop. I stroke her through her dress, listening to her breathing get even faster, watching pleasure suffuse her beautiful face.
She’s trembling so I slide my other arm around her waist, pulling her close, supporting her as I stroke, finding her clit and circling softly, gently. She gasps and begins to pant, her knuckles white as she grips my coat, pleasure turning her inside out.
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