Page 139 of Modern Romance December 2025 5-8

As she sat on a stool eating the really delicious monkfish kebabs with a crunchy side salad and subtle tikka sauce, watching the interplay between the staff, several of them came across to talk for a moment or two.

Conversation was about food, with a bit of juicy gossip thrown in for good measure, and Amy found herself relaxing for the first time since she’d arrived.

Occasionally, she glanced towards the door, wondering what Leo’s reaction would be if he discovered she had ignored his edict to stay in her room. Well, maybe not anedict,but he had been extremely high-handed. If he had appeared, she would have told him so, not that she was looking for a fight—or him.

She would have liked to linger in the kitchen, but it felt wrong to be there and not work and she was feeling extremely tired again, which was often the way if she allowed a migraine to develop.

When she went to carry her tray over to the dishwashers it was firmly taken off her.

Amy didn’t protest; she was actually quite touched by the kindness.

Would she have been so touched if Leo had been the one offering the kindness? The inconvenient question stayed in her head as she made her way back to her own suite.

It wasn’twhathe said; it was thewayhe said it.

The next time she saw him she would tell him so, she decided tiredly before she lay down in bed. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

She didn’t actually see Leo all the next day; he did not put in a disruptive appearance in the kitchen or highjack her along the long hallways. There was no request for her presence, which meant her day was harassment-free and rather productive.

The evening meal left the pass looking like a work of art and she knew it tasted as good as it looked. There was, after all, no harm being a perfectionist.

She ate supper with the rest of the staff and they discussed their own individual versions of French meringue, as retro floating islands were making a comeback on menus.

The idea of the sea drew her, and the draw had nothing whatever to do with a childish impulse to ignore Leo’s instructions. The summer days were long and she would be back at the castle before darkness fell.

She thought she might have met someone as she trod the same path she had yesterday, but it was both deserted and silent, except for when the noise of a helicopter above made her look up and watch until it vanished behind the forested area to the east, presumably to land in the same place she had when they’d arrived.

Would there be more guests to feed tomorrow? Courtesy of the kitchen gossip, she had learnt that Leo’s female companions never visited the castle. He appeared to keep his life strictly compartmentalised.

Amy took a few moments when she reached the beach to drink in the view. Leo had said he swam here but, not being the strongest swimmer in the world, she had taken the precaution of checking the tides and asking about any dangerous currents.

It took her a few moments to pull off the wraparound skirt and her white cotton top and arrange them neatly on top of the canvas bag containing her towel and the book she had brought.

The sand was warm underfoot as she ran down to the sea.

She was happy to paddle for a little while, meandering up and down the beach in the warm, crystal-clear water before she walked out until she was deep enough to swim. Her slow breaststroke was never going to break any records and she was careful to keep parallel to the beach and not go out of her depth, until she grew tired and flipped over onto her back to float lazily, seeing the sun through the delicate skin of her eyelids. With just the hiss of the waves breaking on the shore and the odd bird screeching overhead, she felt her cares and tensions slip away.

She eventually opened her eyes and wondered if too much relaxing was bad for you. She had floated further out than she’d intended and was, without a doubt, out of her depth. But it wasn’ttoofar.

She didn’t allow herself to panic, though it was nipping at her heels as she determinedly set off for the shore. It seemed to take an incredibly long time to reach the shallows and stand on her feet, water streaming down her body, her heart hammering with a combination of the physical effort and relief as she waded to the shore.

She spread out her towel and collapsed onto it, lying there with her ribcage lifting in tune with her rapid exhalations, which gradually slowed as the relaxing heat seeped into her limbs. Her adrenaline levels lowered as she closed her eyes.

It wasn’t cold, but it was the perceptible change in temperature that woke her. She sat up and looked around, initially confused before she realised that she had fallen asleep. There was no sun; instead, the beach was lit by moonlight and the sea was now silver-streaked and dark, and was lapping only a few feet away from her.

She ransacked her bag to find her phone and gasped when she saw the time. It was close on midnight. Scrambling to her feet and swearing under her breath, she struggled into her top and then fastened her skirt over her bikini, which was now bone-dry. Even her rope of hair, which usually took an age to dry, was barely damp.

Retaining her phone before pushing everything else into her bag, she slung it over her shoulder and headed for the trees. Without the moonlight and the light of her phone it would have been pitch-black. Even with these light sources, the olive grove felt very different than in daylight, the trees’ skeletal outlines in the dark seeming sinister and unwelcoming. Heart pounding, she began to run, every snap of a twig and animal call raising her heart rate.

It was a relief to emerge, but she didn’t pause. Jogging across the flat ground, she didn’t stop until she reached the lowest terrace.

Her nervousness now seemed foolish with the soothing aroma of night-scented stocks and roses filling the air. She wasn’t in a wilderness; she was a few hundred metres from a building with dozens of people in it. Though it might have been better to have remembered that she wasn’t afraid of the dark five minutes ago.

By the time she reached the third level, the illuminated castle came into view and the last of the tension bunching her shoulders loosened. She even took the time out to linger a little to admire the spotlit iconic building.

Chapter Eleven

‘I can’t decideif you’re stupid or stubborn!’