Page 103 of Modern Romance July 2025 #4-8

CHAPTER EIGHT

O N S ATURDAY , Damian had his private jet collect them from the small airport on the island to fly them directly to Berlin.

It bothered him to leave Zoia, but she was in high spirits.

One of her good friends was planning to spend the day with her while they were gone, and the doctor assured him that he could be with her on a moment’s notice if her health turned.

“Go be young,” Zoia had ordered.

He didn’t think he knew how. He’d had to grow up very quickly and still found it difficult to let go and enjoy himself.

It struck him that one of the reasons Carmel had appealed to him in the first place was her willingness to throw herself into a moment.

It was a frustrating quality at times, but an enviable state of mind.

In fact, that aspect of her personality was on full display from the moment they entered the suite, when she met her team there and began to wax poetic over the gown choices they’d brought.

“What can I say?” she said when she caught him watching her. “I’m a girly-girl. I live for— Ooh, yes!” She snatched up a shade of nail polish and held it against a silver gown. “Right?”

He left her to get ready while he ran out and did something he had sworn he wouldn’t.

He found a jewelry store and bought her a pair of earrings.

He had never bought her an engagement ring, he reasoned, but there was something a little more self-serving in it.

It wasn’t a bribe. He wasn’t trying to get her into bed.

Although…

He firmly shut those thoughts down, even as the vision of her in a bikini never left his mind’s eye.

No, this was a point of pride. He had invited her to be his date, and he would cover her costs and buy her a thank-you gift. That’s all this was.

She was still in the second bedroom when he returned. He checked in with his grandmother, then changed into his tuxedo.

He would typically nurse a scotch at this point, but his assistant had dutifully ensured there was no alcohol in the suite. He answered a few emails until he heard the door open, then looked up in time to see Carmel stroll toward him with an abundance of graceful confidence.

Her gown was liquid silver that ran from one shoulder across her lush breasts, clung to the indent of her waist and poured off her hips, splitting to reveal one thigh and the silver straps of her high heels.

He came back from that very pleasurable journey to see her pose with one hand on her hip, chin up, hair pulled back on one side and falling in a length of curls down the front of her opposite shoulder.

Her scarlet mouth tilted in amusement and her thick lashes tangled into a line as she narrowed her smoky eyes at him.

“Like what you see, sailor?”

Too much. Everything about her was more than he could bear. In a very good way.

“You look beautiful.” He had to clear his throat.

“I know.”

“Except…”

Her brows went up, haughty.

He offered the earrings.

“Loaners?” She took the velvet box.

“They’re for you. A thank you for being so kind to Zoia.”

“I like her.” Much of her saucy self-assurance fell away. “You didn’t have to get me anything for that.”

“I wanted to.”

She opened the box and drew a soft breath at the cascade of pear-shaped stones from a cushion cut stud.

“These are really beautiful, Damian.” Her voice was hushed and somber. “You have excellent taste.”

“I know. I asked you to be my date, didn’t I?” he said blithely.

She dipped her chin and smiled with shy pleasure. “Someone has been reading Wooing for Dummies.”

He gave a rusty laugh.

She walked to the mirror and removed her artistically sculpted platinum earrings. They were admittedly eye-catching and interesting, but his were infinitely nicer. They sparkled the way she did.

After a long look at her reflection, she said, “I love them. Thank you.”

She came toward him and every muscle in his body tightened. She was taller in her heels and only needed to lift her chin to touch the corner of his mouth with a peck of her lips.

He set his hand on her hip, tempted to keep her close. To turn his head and take .

“You’re welcome.” He drew back a little and lifted his hand to the earring, desperate to touch her . The weight of the diamonds on his fingertip pleased him. The sight of his earrings on her appealed to the Neanderthal in him.

He had been lying about wanting to thank her for being kind to Zoia. As far as his ego went, he was marking her as his. That’s what this was.

And it was a disturbing enough realization he had to take another step back from her.

“Shall we go?” He had to rummage for his voice in the depths of his chest.

The ceremony was being held in the ballroom of another hotel, but it only took the car a few minutes to get them there.

The guests were executives from the tech sector, no pop stars or celebrities.

Thus, there were only a handful of second-string freelance photographers taking photos against the prepared background that advertised the event.

They still recognized Carmel and began snapping and shouting questions at her.

“Carmel! What are you doing here?” one asked.

“I’m on a date,” she said mildly.

“How do you know Mr. Kalymnios?”

“We’ve been acquainted a long time.”

“Is it serious?”

“When have you known me to be serious?” she countered.

“Are you sober tonight?”

“That’s enough,” Damian muttered, appalled at the man’s rudeness. He started to escort Carmel to the entrance, but the photographer persisted.

“You look like you’ve gained weight. Are you pregnant?”

“Do you want a broken nose?” Damian turned back to ask him.

“Don’t.” Carmel caught his arm. “It’s not worth it.” She urged him to come with her into the hotel.

“Who is he?” he demanded as they entered the lobby. “Do you know his name?”

“Don’t even bother. They all heard what he asked me. They’ll all pile on the same rumor. I did warn you.”

She had, but, “It’s always that intrusive?” he asked.

“That was nothing,” she said dismissively. “I used to be a Titanic level disaster. Now I’m very boring so they try to get a rise out of me, hoping for an implosion they can capitalize on.”

“I really do want to break his nose.” They were already in the elevator and he’d never been a violent man, but it sounded really satisfying.

“That’s sweet, but if you recall, I don’t actually have any honor worth defending.”

He started to admonish her for talking down about herself, but the doors opened on a greeter who took their names and gave them their table number, waving them to enter the festively decorated ballroom.

The evening passed pleasantly. Carmel was loosely acquainted with a few of the people in the room, either through women she knew from boarding school or other business connections she had made over the years.

She made some useful introductions for him, and she was a vivacious date, capable of small talk and witty interjections that kept the evening from becoming dull.

Once the awards had been handed out and the speeches were made, the dancing started. Finally, he had an excuse to hold her.

He invited her onto the floor and she fit perfectly against him, exactly as she had five years ago.

He had been burning to feel her again since their kiss on the stairs that night. She smelled divine and moved perfectly with him, reminding him of exactly how well-matched they’d been in bed, not that he’d ever forgotten.

Their chemistry had predictable results on his body. She noticed when he had to pull her in to avoid a less adept couple. She flashed a questioning look up at him.

“Surprised? I already told you you’re very beautiful.”

“I’m surprised you let me know.” She blushed, seeming discomfited, which was an unusual reaction from someone who seemed incapable of embarrassment. “You didn’t want anything to do with me that night on the stairs.” Her expression grew stiff. Hurt?

“I didn’t want to want you.”

“Didn’t? Or don’t?” Her lashes lifted.

He spent a long moment drowning in the deep pools of her eyes.

“I don’t know if I have a choice.” He drew her close, avoiding another couple again, and watched over her head as they continued moving. “I had forgotten you have such natural charisma. Everyone is drawn to you.” He was making excuses for his own fascination. Even he could hear it.

“I’m a ham,” she said, looking away. “A hack entertainer. I play the clown so people don’t see the real me.”

“I do,” he said, because he did. She wore a sheen and sparkle as armor, but like her gown, it was actually a very thin, delicate layer. Beneath it was a vulnerable, naked, very human person.

She winced. He saw her gaze track a tray of champagne carried by a server.

“Should we go?” he asked.

“Are you worried about me?” she asked wryly. “I mistook that server for Stella’s sister, Beate, but she’s at school in Vienna.”

“I’d still prefer to leave.” He wanted her to himself.

He held her hand as they left the dance floor and wound their way back to the table to collect their things.

Back in their hotel suite, she opened the gilded box containing the light bulb–shaped crystal award and set it on the bar, then stood back to admire it.

“You should be proud of that.”

“You know as well as I do that those things are subjective at best and mostly exist to self-congratulate and drum up friendly PR.”

“It’s still a signifier of how much you’ve achieved.

You wouldn’t have won it if you hadn’t come this far.

I should have believed in you. It’s not that I didn’t, you know.

” She turned to face him, hands clenching together.

“I had every confidence that you would get where you wanted to be. It was me that I didn’t believe in. Us.”

“I know.” He pulled at his bow tie. “Me either. Your father called me an opportunist, and I was. The minute I saw you, I knew you were out of my league. It came as no surprise that you would dump me as quickly as you married me. It was nice of you to give me a reason to hate you, though. Made it easier on my self-esteem.”