Page 8 of Modern Romance July 2025 #4-8

CHAPTER TWO

A DONIS RAISED A hand to acknowledge the two uniformed figures who had appeared from a concealed side door. ‘Will you excuse me a moment?’ He tossed the words over his shoulder as he strolled decisively towards them.

Lizzie expelled a long sighing breath as her eyes followed his distinctive stride, and she focused with fierce determination on not thinking too much about the finger-in-the-socket electric contact.

Obviously the prohibition had the opposite effect and she relived the moment all over again and again…and what about the disturbing pull she experienced when she came within his orbit?

She needed to be objective and not overthink it, and, in her defence, he possessed an overwhelmingly powerful physical presence, mind-numbing in its strength.

The obvious way to cope with someone like him was to listen and ignore, so why did she feel compelled to challenge him?

It wasn’t as if she didn’t have experience of alpha men.

Her dad was a classic case, and she had learned that keeping quiet and going her own way was the simplest, most pain-free route for both of them to deal with what she privately thought of as his man-child tantrums.

Why wasn’t she utilising this tried and tested tactic now? Whenever he delivered one of his pronouncements that always came with the subtext that he was right and not agreeing was not an option, she felt like a cat having its fur brushed the wrong way.

Having ascertained that he now appeared to be deep in conversation with the security guards, she took the opportunity to ring the stables, not just to distract herself, but because they were short-staffed this week due to some sort of bug going around and she felt guilty leaving them in the lurch this way.

The security guards were chatty. It was several moments before Adonis could extract himself from a motor-racing-related conversation—one guard was a fan and had seen him in the VIP area of a race meeting the previous month.

When he did escape he saw the diminutive figure was looking at her phone, her frown suggesting she had discovered there was no signal down here.

This was confirmed when her crude curse echoed around the space.

Adonis’s lips twitched. He was beginning to realise that he had made the mistake of forming a character assessment on one meeting, an awful dress and information sourced from Deb, who had turned out to be not the most scrupulously honest source.

Lizzie was not the mousey, not too bright nepo baby too fragile for life outside her overprivileged little bubble. The alternative was a slightly more subtle version of her cousin.

She fell into neither category. She resembled a mule more than a mouse. She was no Deb lite, she was another species.

Though physically, he conceded as his eyes lingered on her soft profile, the little pointy chin, softly rounded smooth cheeks, she resembled neither a mule nor a mouse.

Obviously she was no great beauty, her features did not have the required regularity, but the combination of the big dramatic blue eyes, fake or not, and the sexy mouth was striking, and her freckle-sprinkled skin had an almost translucent quality.

What she was wearing today was not terrible, but the thigh-length tunic topped by an oversized chunky sweater over badly cut jeans did not shriek style, or a woman who wanted to showcase her femininity.

Strip off a few layers and she might even have a figure, he acknowledged as he walked back to her side, gesturing towards the lift and suggesting once more, ‘Shall we take this up to my apartment?’

‘No.’

His high-voltage smile faded. He was not accustomed to people who did not fall in with his plans, especially women, and he had put real effort into the smile.

‘I’m late,’ Lizzie said to soften her abrupt response. ‘So if you could just explain the situation and I will be…’ She made a fluttering gesture, the action making the loose sleeve of her sweater fall back, revealing a very slim wrist and a scar.

She saw him looking and pulled her sleeve down.

‘I’d be grateful if you could, erm…set the record straight, as soon as possible,’ she said, aiming for scrupulously polite if a bit distant.

A waste of time. He acted as though she hadn’t said anything at all.

‘Late for what?’ he said, looking her up and down in a way that made her want to wrap her arms around herself or at least add another layer even though the scrutiny was, if anything, impersonal.

Since puberty hit she had suffered a thousand moments of wanting to do that when she had been on the receiving end of crude remarks about her breasts, before she had discovered that layering and baggy and shapeless achieved the desired concealing effect.

‘I have told you. Work.’

His dark brows rose towards his darkly defined hairline. ‘Wow, you really would be a nightmare interview. Have you signed the Official Secrets Act or what?’

His sarcasm brought colour to her cheeks and ignited wrathful blue fire in her eyes. ‘What is it with you? You want to know how the other half lives?’

‘Rafe Sinclair’s daughter thinks she knows how the other half lives? Give me a break.’ Though she might learn sooner than she imagined if she was genuinely ignorant of Sinclair’s precarious financial situation.

His dismissive drawl made her fists clench. He really was, she decided, a deeply unpleasant man!

‘Actually I volunteer in a stables,’ she snapped out, not bothering to describe the non-profit establishment that, alongside an animal rescue, ran classes for disabled children and adults.

‘Great stuff, admirable, though I suppose some people might suggest when Daddy is paying your rent you can afford to volunteer.’

‘Some people? If you’re going to be judgemental and sneery you might as well have the balls to own it!

’ she snapped back with a sweet, achingly insincere smile that transitioned in the blink of an eye to contempt as she read his expression.

He was outraged. How very predictable, she thought, feeling a little glow of superior pleasure.

‘And before you start getting all “how very dare you”, can’t you just tell me what happened back there?

Those people? Who fed them that false information? ’

How very dare? Adonis was starting to think that this woman would dare pretty much anything!

His curiosity was piqued, he had to admit it, that stubborn chin, those glorious lips…

Out of nowhere he found himself wondering how hard it would be to hear hoarse gasps of pleasure on them, not contemptuous insults.

‘And why,’ she continued, wishing she could control her antagonism, actually wishing he were not such an aggravating man, ‘did they think that we were a…?’ She stopped, unable to finish the sentence. It was just too embarrassing.

He looked more curious than alarmed as he queried, ‘Did you say anything to them?’

‘About what?’

‘Our engagement,’ he drawled sarcastically.

Her eyes widened to their fullest extent before squeezing tight closed as she grabbed her head between her hands, her fingers sinking into the rich silky strands of her hair.

Nostrils flared, she sent him a drop-dead glare as she snapped out a resentful reproof. ‘I’m glad you can laugh about it.’

‘If this came out of the blue for you, I can see it is a difficult situation!’

The concession drew a hoot of laughter from her. ‘Of course it came out of the blue,’ she snarled, thinking, But not to you.

‘But don’t pull your hair out.’ It was very pretty hair, rich, like glassy silk, with the sort of gloss you rarely saw outside a shampoo advert. Did it feel as silky as it looked?

Her hands fell self-consciously away from her head. ‘I’m not. This may seem amusing to you, but it’s not to me. None of this has anything to do with me, and I want my life back without people camping on my doorstep. So fix it!’ she bellowed.

‘Calm down!’ he said warily. The last thing he needed was for her to work herself into another asthma attack, but he was also fascinated by the heaving of her breasts against the thick wall of her heavy sweater. ‘Apparently an announcement was put in several newspapers today.’

She went pale digesting this information, finding the slow drip-feed of information torturous.

‘Saying what?’ she snapped back, feeling as if he was playing with her and not much liking it. ‘I know you think I’m dim but nice. Actually I am neither.’

He gave a sardonic smile. ‘I am not finding you particularly nice.’ He was finding her a lot of other things, which he suspected were shading his decision-making to some degree.

For the first time he was taking on board that this woman with an abrasive quotient way out of proportion to her size might not be a person who wanted sympathy, actually hated it, probably hated it almost as much as he did.

‘It was an announcement of our engagement placed by our respective families.’

Lizzie had been focused on a point over his left shoulder. She gave a wild little laugh, her thoughts twirling dizzily, and her horror-filled eyes met his.

‘How?’ she said, clinging to her denial like someone drowning… This could not be happening, but actually it was the first time any of this made sense. This was a case of mistaken identity. He was engaged and somehow her name had appeared instead of his new fiancée’s.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ she breathed. ‘Your fiancée!’ She gasped, thinking, If I feel ill at the thought imagine how she must be feeling!

The woman he was actually engaged to. ‘Well it can be fixed with a retraction and I’m glad you’re…

’ Like he cares about that, Lizzie. ‘It’s been two years.

I’m sure Deb would have wanted you to find someone,’ she murmured, falling back on the conventionally polite lie.

In reality Deb had always been very possessive, and if she couldn’t have something she had made sure nobody else could have it.