Page 85 of Modern Romance December 2025 1-4

He cared about her well-being.

That was rare. For years he’d cut himself off from relationships. There were few exceptions, like Dimi Politis and her grandfather. Life was easier when you were totally self-sufficient. And far less painful.

‘He should have spoken to me before making any arrangements.’

She folded her arms, inadvertently tugging the towel down to reveal her breasts, plumped up by the gesture. Fotis made himself look away, wrestling his unruly thoughts under control. He couldn’t be distracted by that lush body and what he’d like to do with her.

‘I have a busy schedule. I can’t just hare off to Greece.’

‘Leon had someone check your royal diary. He said there’s nothing that can’t be rescheduled.’

The look she gave him ignited, as if he’d poured petrol onto hot embers. Her eyes blazed and perversely he wanted to draw closer and bask in that heat.

‘I haven’t been living in Cardona full-time lately. Leon has no idea of my schedule.’ She bit the words out, all clipped indignation. ‘Not all my commitments are in the royal diary.’

Fotis crossed his arms. ‘Is there somewhere else you need to be in the next week or so? Something else you need to do?’

A suspicion had formed over their time in Paris. They’d attended a lot of events together. Some expected, like formal galas and film screenings. Some surprising, like a community college awards night where Rosamund had presented scholarships to teenagers studying acting and related disciplines. Scholarships in her mother’s name.

Rosamund wasn’t the woman he’d first imagined. But as time passed he’d seen the hours she’d spent frowning over her laptop, or engrossed, writing in a tattered notebook. Both of which she’d snap shut whenever he approached.

He supposed he could confirm his suspicion easily enough, but he didn’t want to investigate her any more than he already had. She’d had enough people pry into her life.

He’d rather she told him herself.

‘Rosamund?’

She firmed her lips and looked away. Her schedule for the next month consisted of solid days working on the draft of her new book, and ideas for illustrations. But she wasnotgoing to explain that. The idea of spending more time with him made her feel vulnerable. She’d had enough trouble trying to get work done this last week, always hyper-alert to his presence in the Paris house.

Her life wasn’t perfect but it suited her. She was heart whole and set her own priorities. That had always been enough for her, hadn’t it?

Yet having him at her side, looking out for her, had made her wonder what it would be like to be with someone.Reallybe with someone. Tomatter to them.

As if you’d ever matter to Fotis. He’s only here because he’s done a deal with Leon.

Rosamund remembered his contempt when they’d met. She understood his anger at what he thought she’d done to Dimitria Politis. After a lifetime of being judged and found wanting, Rosamund resented that he’d done exactly that.

She deserved better. Far better.

And maybe you’re scrounging for reasons to keep your distance. When you explained what happened in New York, he believed you. He stopped being so judgemental.

Maybe you’re jealous of the Greek girl who arouses him to such protectiveness. Last night it was all you could do to resist tumbling into his bed.

Her problem was that this man made her feel unfamiliar emotions. As if it weren’t enough that she was targeted by an unbalanced criminal.

Her mouth tugged down in a rueful half-smile. Life was never simple, was it?

‘I don’t like people talking about me behind my back.’ Which was hilarious, when she thought about it. That was the story of her life. ‘Organising things on my behalf, I mean.’

She’d hoped, after that recent meeting with Leon, that perhaps she was more to her half-brother than an unwanted responsibility. It was stupid to feel hurt that he’d discussed the situation with Fotis, not her. After all, Fotis had called him. Rosamund had been too shell-shocked last night to call Leon. For most of her early years he hadn’t been around. She’d certainly never got in the habit of confiding in him.

She was simply out of sorts today. She didn’t know what she wanted. That exasperated her. She never dithered.

Rosamund turned to meet Fotis’ intense stare. It felt like diving into the ocean, letting the currents drag her deep. As if she could float there safely.

The intensity of the illusion pushed her into speech. ‘I don’t want a bodyguard, even for another week.’

She didn’t want to feel beholden, knowing he saw her as an obligation. The physical pull between them might be strong but one glance at that proud face reminded her Fotis’ priorities would always be business.