Page 113 of Modern Romance December 2025 5-8

‘The butter, it’s just in there,’ she said as he turned to the fridge door. ‘That’s right, second shelf,’ she said, indicating the prettily decorated butter pats lined up. ‘The one on the right is black garlic and that one is beef, both gorgeous.’

She was happy thinking about food. Food had always been a way to express herself—the tastes, the textures, the combination of spices, the routines—it had been her salvation because it all made perfect sense to her.

She blinked and fought the strong urge to close her eyes as she watched him methodically select the items he wanted and place them on a scrubbed wooden board, which he dumped on the freshly scrubbed copper surface beside her.

‘What are you doing, Leo?’ she protested wearily as she fought off the impulse to close her eyes. ‘I’ve just cleaned this.’

‘I am feeding you because you are clearly too stupid to feed yourself.’

‘I’m not hungry.’ But actually, she realised, she was ravenous.

She blinked and opened her eyes wide at the sound of him slicing into the loaf. She pinched herself to stay awake, or maybe she actually wasn’t awake and this was all some bizarre nightmare as she watched him putting a generous slice on a plate and push it towards her. ‘Eat.’

Dry bread was his version of food? It was funny, but her depleted energy levels didn’t even allow for a smile, let alone a mocking laugh. ‘You…?’

‘I have eaten plenty.’

‘Why are you being nice?’ He had glanced at her but was busy dolloping some butter on the bread, along with a generous helping of the paté. ‘You didn’t bring me here to be nice.’

She took a bite, and felt her energy levels surge.

‘So why do you think I brought you here?’ He stepped back and watched her devour the food the way she had once devoured him.

‘To rub my nose in it by showing me the life that could have been mine.’ She wiped the crumbs from around her mouth. ‘A bit obvious, but probably part of it is also about…control? You have it and I don’t.’ If this was what they calledspeaking truth to powershe couldn’t understand why it wasn’t more popular. It felt great, also scarily addictive.

‘Or maybe you wanted to see me overcome with lust?’ Her eyes dropped, her scornful laugh sounding forced as she added quickly, ‘Anyway, this—’ her over-the-top gesture encompassed their surroundings ‘—is all a bit of an overkill. You didn’t have to bring me here to prove you are some sort of irresistible sex god; you could have done that in London.’

One corner of his mouth lifted in a wicked smile and he watched the horrified panic spread across her face as she realised what she’d just said.

‘Now she tells me,’ he drawled, enjoying every moment of her discomfiture, not that she was telling him anything he didn’t already know.

Amy might have changed but she still couldn’t hide her physical response to him; he knew for a fact if he laid his hand against her breast he would be able to feel her heart trying to pound its way to freedom.

‘I was just thinking of all those wasted air miles,’ she bluffed. ‘For the record, it doesn’t matter what the location is, nothingis going to happen between us.’

‘Was that declaration for your benefit or mine?’

Her nostrils flared as she glared. ‘Your problem is—’ She stopped the flow of words to give her brain time to catch up with her tongue by the simple expedient of biting down hard.

‘Don’t stop now; this is fascinating.’

A fresh wave of angry colour flooded her face. ‘You know exactly what I meant,’ she countered crossly.

‘I think I do, yes.’

‘Not that,’ she snarled, longing to wipe the self-satisfied smirk off his face. ‘Your problem is you’ve had too many casual hook-ups telling you how perfect you are because they know they’ll never have to look at you with crumbs around your mouth.’ Even as she spoke, her eyes zeroed in on the perfectly carved outline of his mouth, which was a mistake.

She cleared her throat. ‘Seriously, although I’d love to pander to your ego with some more foot-in-mouth moments, it’s been a long day and I’ve had enough,’ she added, sliding the plate away.

‘You’ve barely eaten anything, except me with your eyes.’

His silky taunt brought home the fact she was still staring at his mouth. ‘Probably why I have indigestion.’

Her spiky riposte drew a laugh from his throat and an appreciative gleam to his eyes.

‘Eat!’ He slid the plate back to her.

‘I’m sure that wasn’t in the contract,’ she grumbled, loading another slice of bread with butter and paté and taking a bite of a tomato before addressing the bread. ‘I can feel my arteries clogging.’