Page 25 of Modern Romance July 2025 #4-8

CHAPTER NINE

L IZZIE SURFACED FROM a deep sleep and stretched, cat-like, relaxed until the events of the night filtered into her sleep-soaked head. She tensed and slowly opened her eyes, lighting on an empty pillow beside her on the bed.

An overwhelming sense of loneliness swamped her, which was crazy. She’d been waking up alone all her life. Last night had been incredible but she had to keep it in proportion. She couldn’t act like a teenager who had discovered sex and felt as though she was brilliant at it.

Which she was.

Reviewing last night, beyond the pleasure and his utter gorgeousness was the total lack of inhibition she had felt. After a lifetime of hating her body she had actually discovered it was possible to like it, love it even, because Adonis gave every indication that he did.

Whatever happened in the future she would always be grateful to Adonis for breaking her free of her self-imposed prison. She pushed the thought away, not keen on thinking too far ahead, determined to enjoy the moment. It would be a much nicer moment if Adonis were here.

As she felt the cold bed beside her, she remembered him saying at some point during the long night that he had arranged to speak to his grandfather’s doctor this morning.

She prised herself from the warmth of the bed and walked through to the bathroom where Mouse was lying full-stretch on the heated marble floor, purring.

She smiled. Inside, she was purring too.

She stepped into the shower and stood there for a long while letting the jets of water ease the tightness in muscles that were complaining, muscles she hadn’t known she possessed until last night.

She brushed out her wet hair but couldn’t work up the enthusiasm to do anything to it, and, after applying some suncream, she glossed her lips and left it at that. Even barefaced, her dark brows framed her face, and the natural dark of her lashes intensified the colour of her eyes.

For the first time in her life she looked in the mirror and felt lucky.

Humming softly to herself, she dressed quickly, selecting a pair of linen wide-legged trousers from her new wardrobe and topping them with a square-necked white tee shirt.

She shoved her feet into a pair of leather sliders and, calling the cat, walked into the sitting room.

The first thing she noted after she opened door to a generous enclosed green space, where stone benches were set around what appeared to be a herb garden, was a note propped on the table. She bent down to pick it up while the cat wound his way around her legs.

Sorry I had to leave. I fed the cat. See you for breakfast.

There were no kisses attached to the note, just his name written in a bold flourish. The idea of him feeding her cat made her smile. If miracles carried on happening with this sort of regularity, where would they be in a week?

She hoped in bed. She had a lot of years of abstinence to make up for.

‘So come on, Mouse, let’s go for a walk, sweetheart. See if there are any local felines you need to show who’s boss.’

As if she understood every word, the cat fell in by her side, tail high as they walked down the corridor. She found the dining room from the previous night and gave a self-satisfied smile, hoping, as she pushed open the door, this was where she was meant to be.

It was. Several family members from the previous evening were already there.

‘Yassas,’ she said. It had seemed only polite to learn a couple of Greek words, but she had almost exhausted her vocabulary.

‘Yassas,’ came the group reply, which seemed a positive response to her effort.

‘Coffee is there.’ One of the older twin girls pointed to the long low serving table down one wall.

There were jugs of juices, platters of breads, bowls piled high with fruit, thick, creamy Greek yogurt and pots of honey, and that was before she had looked under the domed lids of the multitude of serving dishes.

‘I can call for fresh tea,’ her twin added. ‘If you want some and if you need anything fresh cooking, just say.’

‘We do self-service on the holidays,’ Lydia explained, sounding apologetic. ‘Did you sleep well?’ she asked as Lizzie picked the lid off a bowl of creamy-looking scrambled egg.

‘Mum, of course she didn’t sleep.’ The teenagers giggled, rolling their eyes at their mother.

To Lizzie’s relief, Mouse provided a distraction just by being herself.

‘Get down, Mouse,’ Lizzie said, pushing the marauding feline off the serving table.

‘She has a cat!’ exclaimed one of the diminutive twins excitedly. ‘Cora, look—a cat!’

‘Can we stroke him?’

‘Her,’ Lizzie said, smiling to see Mouse lapping up the attention plus any stray crumbs that landed on the floor.

‘It might not like it, girls,’ their mother warned.

‘Oh, she’ll love it,’ Lizzie promised. ‘But don’t let her persuade you to feed her. She is very greedy.’

‘Mouse?’ said one of the older twins. ‘Like the books?’

‘That’s cool,’ added her twin.

‘Did you name her after the real Mouse, the cat in the books?’

‘Kind of,’ Lizzie said, helping herself to some yogurt and topping it with fruit. She had it halfway to her mouth when Adonis appeared looking every kind of wonderful in faded denim shorts and a tee shirt.

‘Adonis, did you know she has a cat?’

‘Indeed, I did know,’ he said, flashing a warm look towards Lizzie.

‘She has the top of her ear missing, like the books.’

Iris and her twin exchanged looks.

‘Pink nose, half an ear and the black spot on her back does look like a question mark. She is the Mouse, isn’t she?’

‘Which would mean,’ her twin said, picking up the story, ‘you would be Rose Trelawny?’ She gave her head a little shake. ‘Not really?’

Lizzie tried to adopt a bewildered expression but she felt the guilty heat climb to her cheeks.

‘Have you two read one of Lizzie’s books?’

The women in the room turned on him, eyes wide. ‘You married Rose Trelawny? This is Mouse the cat?’

‘Adonis, is this true?’ his aunt Elena demanded.

Adonis looked bewildered. ‘She isn’t Rose Trelawny.’

‘My middle name is Rose and Trelawny was Mum’s maiden name. I told you I wrote books.’

‘Oh, my God, Adonis!’ said Areti. ‘She is so way, way out of your league.’

‘Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?’

‘Rosie’s adventures, are they based on real life?’

‘Areti!’ gasped her mother, who had read the book. Despite her outrage, she could not hide her interest in Lizzie’s reply.

‘I was just asking, Mum. Did you really have sex in a cupboard, Lizzie, or should we call you Rosie?’

‘Lizzie.’

‘Sex in a cupboard,’ echoed Lydia’s youthful lover, who had strolled into the room. ‘Wouldn’t there be a space issue?’

‘Depends how flexible you are…’ his lover pointed out.

‘Mum, ugh!’

Adonis leaned back and watched as his bride fielded questions about the heroine all present seemed to assume was her alter ego.

Lizzie had had very little contact with fans before, outside online reviews, and she had preserved her anonymity, which made it a lot easier to laugh off the more out-there questions. Being pelted up close and personal was proving difficult.

‘No, he was fictional. I’ve never dated anyone as awful as Damien and he really wasn’t that awful.’

‘Are you kidding? He was a f—’

‘Areti!’ warned her mother.

The girl grinned.

Finally she’d had enough.

‘Adonis, make it stop!’

Adonis rose to his feet. ‘Right, you lot, out. This woman has not finished a meal since she arrived and she gets very cranky when she is hungry. Also, stop feeding that cat!’

‘She’s hungry!’ his little cousins protested.

‘No, she is an opportunist. Out!’

‘If you’re not careful she will put you in her next book,’ was Areti’s parting shot.

‘You were very rude, but thanks.’

‘Eat,’ he said, taking a seat opposite Lizzie.

‘You’re not eating.’

‘I already have.’

‘You had your meeting with the doctor?’

He set his elbows on the table. ‘I did.’

‘Don’t stare like that, it puts me off my breakfast.’

‘Not noticeably,’ he drawled, the laziness in his voice as he watched her scoop a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth in dramatic contrast to the dark hunger in his eyes.

‘So, the doctor?’

‘Later.’

She studied his face and noticed the shadow under his eyes, which added to, not detracted from his general gorgeousness.

They might not be entirely due to a long athletic sleepless night.

She felt a sharp stab of empathy. She had been only a child but she remembered all too well how much her dad had dreaded his meetings with the doctors.

‘My mum was ill for a long time. I was young but I know my dad grew to dread the doctor’s appointments.’

‘It was early onset dementia?’

She nodded. ‘Yes… We kind of lost her bit by bit. It was hard as a kid to understand why she did the things she did.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, something twisting hard in his chest when he thought about Lizzie, a little girl, watching her mother vanish and her father so wrapped up in his own grief that she was left to sink or swim.

‘Maybe that’s why you have such a vivid imagination. You escaped into a fantasy world?’

‘I never thought of that, I suppose little bits of yourself do come out in your writing…’ she mused. ‘Once,’ she began, then shook her head. ‘There are lots of good memories too.’

‘So, my family seem convinced that your stories are based on personal experience. A cupboard,’ he said suddenly. ‘Really?’

She gave a gurgling laugh and then sobered. ‘Once I got locked in a cupboard, so I let my heroine have sex in a cupboard…sort of therapy. It didn’t work though. I still hate enclosed spaces.’

‘But not sex.’

A slow smile illuminated her face. It faded when she found herself wondering if it was just sex or sex with Adonis.

‘No, not sex,’ she said quietly. ‘So thank you for that, Adonis.’

‘No thanks are required, I promise you, yineka mou. ’

She stared at him, a question in her big blue eyes, a question he didn’t want to acknowledge even to himself.

‘The famous cat is eating the smoked salmon.’

She leapt to her feet. ‘Oh, no…bad girl.’ She shooed the cat away from the dish, and Mouse jumped down, retreated to a corner and gave her a dirty look.

‘So you are famous?’

She looked uncomfortable and arched a brow. ‘I really hope not.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I did,’ she protested.

‘The lie was in the omission. Why do you downplay your achievements?’

‘I don’t…’ She caught his eye and dragged a hand across her brow before shaking her head, the action causing her high ponytail to flick.

‘Your father must be proud of you.’

‘He is.’ She heard the shrill insincerity in her voice and winced.

‘My dad wanted a son. Don’t get me wrong, he has always loved me and been a good dad, but I gave up trying to impress him a long time ago. You pick your battles, the ones that matter, the ones you can win.’

‘I’ve not noticed you showing much restraint when it comes to arguing with me.’

‘Oh, that’s because I know I can always win those arguments. Right being on my side.’

Her pert response drew a throaty laugh from him. ‘Is that a fact?’

‘It is.’

‘So will you put me in a book as one of your long line of loser boyfriends?’

‘You’re not my boyfriend.’ He was her husband. Even after last night that reality felt too surreal to put into words.

‘No, I’m not, am I? Perhaps it could be the start of another bestselling series. The husbands my cat warned me about.’

‘It is fiction, comedy… Besides, my cat approves of you, and I haven’t had a long line of boyfriends, loser or otherwise. It is fiction, you know, made up,’ she mocked gently.

‘This bestseller list must have made you a rich woman?’

‘I don’t know—well, obviously I know I’ve made money. I told you I bought the house. I have an agent and accountant who handle that side of things. I did run the idea past them of helping dad,’ she admitted. ‘But they said the bulk of my investments can’t be touched without six months’ notice.’

If she believed them, who was he to disabuse her? If she had known the first thing about finances she might not have spent last night in his bed.

‘If you want to talk about whatever it was the doctor said…’

He tipped his head and got up. ‘You finished with the food?’

She nodded.

‘You said you worked in a stable so presumably you ride?’

‘I do.’

‘Then how about a horseback tour of the island?’

A smile spread across her face. It made him think of the sun rising.

‘I can only see one issue…the cat? Can you bear to be parted from her?’ He arched a brow, a smile that made her heart flip hovering across his lips.

‘Do not let appearances deceive you. Admittedly she is slightly overweight, but my Mouse is an alpha cat. She will want to establish her supremacy and also find the kitchen, where she will give a very good impression of a starving animal. Mouse is a survivor.’

‘So are you.’

She blinked and pushed out an embarrassed, ‘I’m fine.’ The idea she had painted herself as some sort of victim horrified her.

‘I know you are. Go get changed. We are going for a ride. I have a couple of things to sort—shall we say half an hour in the stables? I’ll get Georgiou to show you the way.’

She had no idea who Georgiou was, but she nodded her agreement.