Page 69 of Modern Romance December 2025 1-4

Finally he stepped aside with a mock bow, just far enough for her to exit. But he stood close enough for her to feel his body heat and detect the scent of soap and virile man.

Her nostrils quivered and that weight in her abdomen became a hollow ache as female hormones blasted into awareness.

Rosamund breathed out quickly, fighting the tug of attraction. It was horribly unfair that this provoking man aroused her. Silently she cursed her biological clock or whatever it was that made her susceptible.

He was waiting when she came downstairs carrying the enormous gift box of macarons.

‘What’s the address?’

Of course a greeting was too much to expect. But even surly, he commanded her attention. Damn the man!

She walked towards the garage. ‘You can drive but you’re not going in with me.’

‘I don’t care about your secrets, Princess. Whether your lover’s married or why you want to keep your assignation quiet. I promised your brother I’d keep you safe and I intend to do just that. I need to check the place.’

Her lover!

Indignation rose, but it was quickly swamped by weariness. Her father had always judged her harshly, their characters too different for her to fit his expectations. The press had cast her into a convenient role years ago and now invented stories about her. It should be no surprise this stranger did the same.

Yet it infuriated her that he, like so many others, felt he had the right to jump to conclusions and condemn her.

Let him. She wouldn’t waste her time on explanations.

As he took the box and secured it on the back seat of a gleaming grey four-wheel-drive, she slid into the front passenger seat and gave him the address, catching his frown at their destination.

‘Well, well, well. Your macho man isn’t such a prig after all.’

Rosamund looked up from the kitchen table where she was putting delicate, pastel-coloured macarons in a battered biscuit tin. ‘Sorry?’

Lucie was peering outside. ‘Your man, Fontis.’

‘Fotis, and he’s not my man.’

Which Lucie knew full well. The old lady’s brain was as sharp as ever. Rosamund caught her speculative glance and shook her head. ‘Truly, Lucie. We barely speak and certainly don’t like each other. It will be a relief to go our separate ways in a week.’

When they’d arrived, Fotis had insisted on coming to check out the flat. If he’d been surprised to meet a grey-haired woman in a wheelchair instead of a lover, he hadn’t shown it. Rosamund had explained he was her temporary bodyguard—she had no intention of lying to her old friend—and shut the door on him as soon as he’d finished his security inspection.

But annoyingly, over the next two hours her thoughts kept straying to him. Was he standing guard outside the ground floor flat, or minding the luxury vehicle, since this area of social housing was known for its crime rate? She’d suggested he leave and return when she texted, but the set of his jaw and glitter in his eyes had told her what he thought of that.

‘You take me for a fool,cherie?’

Rosamund looked up to see Lucie watching her, head tilted as if fascinated. ‘Of course not. I’m telling you the truth. We can hardly stand to be in the same space as each other.’

‘Get on each other’s nerves, do you?’

Rosamund met Lucie’s bright eyes and realisation dawned. ‘You can’t possibly think—’

‘I don’tthink, Iknow. I may be old but there are some things you don’t forget. The way you pretend not to look at each other, yet you’re both completely attuned to each other. The air sizzled between you.’ Lucie waved her hand as if fanning herself. ‘And the intense stares when the other one isn’t watching. Tss! I remember that heat.’

‘Pure dislike,’ Rosamund said quickly.

‘You’re not that naïve. And your mother would never raise a fool. There’s more than dislike going on between you two.’

Rosamund caught her lip with her teeth. It wasn’t true. Fotis had made his distaste obvious. He avoided her when he could. She’d never known anyone so eager to get away from her.

As forherfeelings… Yes, there was a powerful physical attraction, but no one knew better than she not to trust that. Once, she’d naively let attraction lead her astray and years later she still paid for that mistake. She’d learnt her lesson. She found it hard to trust any man now.

‘He tracks you with his eyes, did you know that?’