Page 131 of Modern Romance December 2025 5-8

Nobody asked you to, the annoying voice in his head argued.You could have delegated.

‘Like I have a choice,’ Amy muttered, leaning against the conveniently placed pillow behind her back. Then gritted out a grudging, ‘Thank you, but I’m not an invalid.’

He tilted his dark head in mocking acknowledgment. ‘You’re most welcome.’ He scanned her face, the sarcastic glint in his heavy-lidded eyes fading as he took in her pallor and the violet smudges beneath her eyes, hating that he had no control over the surge of protectiveness, an emotional response he thought he’d left behind nine years ago.

This was the woman who had ripped out his heart and stomped all over it. What the hell was he doing or, more importantly, feeling?

‘So, how are you feeling?’ The ice clinked in the jug as he poured her a glass of water and passed it to her.

She looked at it without reacting.

‘Employment law frowns on employees not being hydrated.’

She huffed out a sigh and took the glass because her mouth and throat were dry.

He watched as, holding it in two hands, she glugged the liquid greedily.

‘Slowly, you don’t want to throw up again.’

The reminder made her pull the glass from her lips and set it down on the bedside table. ‘I’m not going to—’ In the act of flinging off the throw that had been laid across her legs, her eyes widened with horror as a pained version of the morning’s events flashed through her head.Oh, God, talk about first impressions!

‘Your grandfather—’

‘He is grateful you didn’t throw up on his shoes.’

‘I’m glad you think this is a joke. He didn’t really say that, did he?’

‘No. The two of you should get on; his sense of humour is a little underdeveloped too. Don’t worry, he took it in his stride and has decided to blame me for the entire incident. And as I couldn’t make myself available to dance attendance on him, he has left early. He never stays long, though. It was hard for him to relinquish the reins in the first instance.’

‘Was he really all right about it?’

Leo sighed. ‘Actually, he suggested I sack you.’

This professional insult roused her from her lethargy. ‘I’m a better chef than you deserve!’

‘He’s decided you’re pregnant.’

She was unprepared for that and had no defence against the bleakness that washed over her in a wave.

‘I’m not. And as it’s unlikely I’ll ever see your grandfather again, I’d be grateful if you’d tell him that. Also, employment law means you couldn’t sack me even if I was.’

‘You will see him at the gala.’

‘I’m not going to allow you to wheel me out like a prize example of how the mighty have fallen.’

He bit back a retort, aware that he had an unfair advantage here. He wasn’t as weak as a kitten—a kitten with claws, he thought, making that all-important clarification.

‘He’s a bit of a foodie and he loves talking about food. He says, at his age, food is better than sex. Apparently, this is something I have to look forward to, but for the moment food is simply fuel.’

‘What about sex?’ The words tripped off her tongue before she could stop them.

‘Sex is one of the joys of life.’ He could imagine a man finding sex with Amy to be one of life’s necessities, like oxygen. A man who was not him, of course, as he was a man who was never going to care enough to be hurt again.

Only Leo could turn a conversation about food into one about sex and make it sound so impersonal.

‘You’re obsessed,’ she accused.

‘Maybe we both are, and you introduced the subject.’ Head tilted to one side, he stood back and surveyed her burning face. ‘Now you’re looking a much better colour; you have some warmth in your cheeks.’