Page 95 of Modern Romance July 2025 #4-8

CHAPTER FOUR

S USPECTING D AMIAN HAD overheard her calls through the open windows earlier, Carmel closed all her doors after lunch while she spoke to her therapist.

“You don’t have to succumb to ultimatums,” her therapist reminded her. “You don’t have to do penance. You can leave this with lawyers unless reconciliation is something you really want?”

“I don’t expect to stay married, no. But I would like a chance to mend fences.

” There were many people in the world whose opinion no longer mattered to her, but she would always regret that she had lost Damian’s respect.

She had killed it with her bare hands. If she could earn a shred of that back, if she could give him something he wanted, she was compelled to try.

They talked a little more about how she could work through some things with him, then Carmel ended the call and went to the kitchen to top up her ice water. She genuinely did drink a lot of it through the day, mildly addicted to the jolt of cold in her throat.

Lethe came in the back door while she was there.

“Oh.” Lethe smiled with surprise to find her there. “This is for you.” She shyly offered a cloth shopping bag. “The boutique at the bottom of the hill caters to tourists. I picked up what I thought you would need until your things arrive. I had to guess at your size.”

“That’s so kind.” Carmel peered in to see a number of toiletries atop a cotton sundress in shades of butter yellow and green. “How much was it?”

“ Kyrie told me to put it on the household expenses.”

“Oh. Um, thank you.” Now she owed Damian? Ugh. “Do you know where he is?”

“Out with Pirro.” She waved vaguely toward the hillside.

Carmel took the bag to her room and emptied it on the bed, finding fresh underwear, two swimsuit options, the sundress and some cheap flip-flops.

With quiet glee, she threw off her clothes and pulled on a swimsuit. Moments later, she was wading into the pool, sighing with relief.

After a few lazy laps, she moved to one of the loungers in the shade, thinking about how to smooth things over with Damian.

Their talk at lunch had been difficult. She was used to being the center of attention for one reason or other—she had a history of demanding it—but she had always felt his attention more intensely.

It was sexual, but also something more difficult to articulate.

She had ample experience with being pursued by men who had buckets of confidence, but Damian’s self-assurance was justified.

He knew his own worth because he had built it by hand.

The first time she’d met him, she’d been at a pool party on Mykonos.

His solar panel company had already been the dominant supplier across the islands, and he had come by to check on an installation.

His jeans and collared T-shirt had accentuated his powerful build, and his dismissive glance at the drunken antics of the guests had been the sort of challenge she couldn’t resist.

“Join us,” she had coaxed him.

“I have three more work sites to check.” He’d paused, and the tingle in her breasts and stomach and thighs told her the gaze behind his sunglasses had taken a long look at the bikini she wore. “You’re welcome to come with me. I’ll bring you back when I’m done.”

“I’ll get my bag.”

She’d been tipsy, of course, and given to following impulse in those days, but she was cautious about putting herself into dodgy situations with men. After a scary moment in her teens, she’d learned to either moderate her drinking or stick with a group.

She was bored with the people she was with, though. Bored with the lifestyle she had locked herself into. No one stopped her leaving, which told her exactly how much they cared about her.

Damian had intrigued her, and something in his casual strength and unapologetic boundaries had made her feel safe for the first time in a long time.

She pulled frayed cutoffs over her bathing suit and kicked into her sandals, then climbed into his boxy utility truck. He took them on a scenic route, windows open, music playing through the tinny radio.

When they stopped at a villa, he moved around the property with comfortable facility, explaining his work to her.

“What do you do?” he asked.

“I model for my father’s company.” She showed him some of her photos on her phone because they were sexy and flattering.

When she tried to climb a ladder with him, he stopped her. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Not that much,” she lied. She used their closeness to loop her arms around his neck.

He caught her around the waist and accepted the invitation of her uptilted mouth, taking her weight and her breath in the same moment.

She was suddenly suspended, captured by a kiss that stole her awareness of anything beyond the hardness of his body against hers and the commanding way he plundered her lips. He smelled sweaty and tasted salty and he was so hot . They both were.

When he finally let her slide down so her feet touch the earth, she was uttered dazzled.

“Stay here,” he ordered.

“Or you’ll do that again?” she teased.

“Or I won’t,” he warned.

Her heart skipped and her inner rebel thought about defying him, but she feared he might not actually kiss her again if she crossed him so she waited patiently until he came down from the roof.

When he did, he cupped her cheek and said something in Greek that might have been Good girl before he kissed her again, slow and lingering.

She glowed when he released her, certain he was pleased with her and that was more potent than any drug could ever be. Not that she did drugs. Alcohol was trouble enough for her to control. She knew deep down she’d be truly in danger if she went down those dark paths.

The rest of the afternoon progressed in the same amiable and sensual fashion. He set his hand on her leg as they drove. When he started to climb the ladder, she kissed him as though he was leaving for war.

At the last house, the owners had been away. They’d snuck into the pool and, since Damian hadn’t had a bathing suit, he’d swum naked. She had stripped down, too. They’d heated up more than cooled down, kissing and caressing until she thought she would die.

“Do you have a condom?” she had gasped.

“In my shorts. Let’s go into the cabana.”

They had, but he hadn’t been finished with foreplay. His kisses had trailed down her neck to her pebbled nipples. While the hot suction of his mouth drove her wild, he opened her legs and settled his wide torso there. He began peppering kisses down, sending heat deep into her aching pelvis—

Rain hit her skin.

She jolted awake, disoriented to find herself poolside, but at his villa. Her blood was pooled and thick, her loins throbbing with arousal.

Damian stood waist-deep in the pool, chest hair in fine whorls of black across his well-developed pecs. She could see his blue shorts beneath the surface of the water, but she was remembering a nest of dark hair and the thrust of his erection that magical day.

She yanked her attention to the view. Could he tell what she’d been dreaming about? Had she moaned? Had her hand moved in her sleep to anywhere telling?

As a culpable blush seared her cheeks, she threw her legs off the edge of the lounger, saying unnecessarily, “I fell asleep.”

“Why?” he asked with suspicion.

“Because I didn’t sleep well last night.” She’d been nervous about seeing him.

Her stomach was fluttering with all those same nerves along with the jittery ones of sexual awareness. She surreptitiously glanced down at her breasts. They felt heavy and yes, her nipples were pressing against the cups of her top. Hopefully, he would attribute that to the splash of water.

As she entered the pool, he dropped backward and reached his long arms up in a powerful backstroke. She settled on a lower stair where the water came up to her chest, trying to cool her blood or at least hide her arousal.

He settled in the deep end, arms stretched outward against the lip of the pool.

“I spoke to my therapist,” she said, trying to move as far from sexy thoughts as possible.

“She suggested that I give you an opportunity to tell me how my actions affected you. She said I should just listen. Is that something you want to do?” She braced herself because she knew it would hurt either way.

He made a noise that was somewhere between a bark of laughter and a choke of dismay.

“Who the hell are you? I don’t recognize this tentative version of you. It seems fake.”

“Is that your biggest grievance? That I’m not offering reasons to hate me?”

He was very still as he stared her down from the far end of the pool. Then he snorted. “No.”

“I ran up your credit card,” she recalled. “I think it was around ten thousand euros. I had the bank cut a cashier’s check for that amount with compounded interest at the average rate for the past five years. It’s in the envelope with the divorce papers.”

“I didn’t take your father’s bribe. I won’t take yours.”

“My father did insult you,” she acknowledged. “And I let that happen. I set you up for it. I apologize. I can’t make him say he’s sorry, but I can promise it wouldn’t happen again. Not unless you go looking for him yourself.”

“The things you did don’t matter to me, Carmel. What I can’t stand is how stupid you made me feel. I couldn’t fathom how I fell for so many lies. You broke my ability to trust anyone, especially women. All the fish in the sea became piranhas. That’s my biggest grievance against you.”

She swallowed, arms looped around her knees, lips sealed while she let him continue.

“All I want from you is for you to be polite to my grandmother for two weeks. This cute little trust exercise of yours is pointless. It won’t change anything because I will never believe anything you say.”

Her throat was too tight to speak. Her chest was in knots. She could only nod, accepting his harsh judgment and antipathy.

“For God’s sake, fight back. Acting meek only makes me feel like a bully. Is that your intention?”