Page 130 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8

He slapped his hands on his thighs in a way that nearly made her jump.

‘I could hardly allow you to be left with such a terrible impression of me after the events of last night, now could I? Your beautiful dress, ruined, my reputation, tarnished beyond repair,’ he said, shrugging as if it were that easy to dismiss.

‘So, the solution was to track me down and mysteriously appear at my hotel?’ Erin asked, trying to keep her frustration at his carelessness as to the very real damage of the night before out of her voice.

‘Oh but of course. Isn’t that what all beautiful young ladies like? A little bit of...excitement? And I simply must make amends. So, come have breakfast with me,’ he commanded, coming to stand at his full height.

The small courtyard that had seemed perfectly serviceable, suddenly felt constrictive and entirely impossible for two people. She had a seesawing sense of déjà vu as she looked up into his eyes, the world tilting just a little, just enough to nearly have her swaying on her feet. Without a word, his arm appeared, not reaching for her, but at her side for her to take if she needed it. Oddly, the gallant gesture reminded her of Gio Gallo.

Instead, she rolled her shoulders, and smiled. Or at least, Rin smiled.

‘Excitementandbreakfast. Why, Mr Rossetti, you really are spoiling me.’

She held out her arm for him to take.

He looked down at her arm and for a moment she wondered whether she saw hesitation in his gaze. A slight quirk of his brow, before it was masked completely by a look that could hold no other description than mischievous.

‘Oh, Ms Carter, you havenoidea,’ he relied with a toothy grin.

He’d brought Erin Carter to a small café, out of the way of the tourists that filled the main drag on Capri from the time the first boat moored in the port, to the last. The waiter that showed them to their table had nearly had a heart attack when he’d caught a glimpse of Erin Carter’s very long legs.

He knew the feeling. Still, Enzo had glared at the man, the warning to control himself understood, if the hasty head-ducked-apology was anything to go by.

Erin was telling him about the places she’d visited since arriving on the island, and he listened only with one ear.

Money. She must be after his money. She wasn’t the first, but she would be the last if he had anything to do with it. The hastily formed plan beginning to take shape in his mind would make sure that no one would dare mess with him again. He needed time to do this properly, but he also couldn’t let her escape.

‘Oh yes, I totally agree,’ he inserted into a suitable break in the conversation, as she relayed a stereotypical tourist experience of Capri. ‘Have you been up to Monte Solaro?’ he asked.

‘I don’t really like heights,’ she confessed with a genuine enough grimace and continued to describe where else she had been. He tuned out the highlights of her holiday so far and instead took her in.

Unquestionably beautiful, she had long rich red hair—almost dark enough to be auburn—that shone like rubies in the morning light. She was tall and lean, rather than the curves he was used to finding pleasure in.

She shifted, pulling at the near indecently low-cut shirt, her discomfort subtle but evident, making him wonder if she had worn it for him. That perhaps this was something she believed that he might like. He only just managed to stifle the bark of laughter at a woman so determined to get her hands on money that she would put herself out so much.

But if that was the case then she had very much misread him. While the press usually portrayed many of his companions as vapid and brainless, they were wrong. Agata and Svetlana were currently on attachment with the UN, and many of his previous lovers were either businesswomen or powerful global players in their own right. However, this did not fit the image that the world’s press preferred to paint of him.

An image that Erin Carter seemed to be trying to fit into at this present moment in time.

As she tried to pull discreetly at the hem of her shorts, there was—he admitted—the smallest possibility that he’d misunderstood the conversation he’d overheard in the courtyard. That he’d somehow got his wires crossed. It was possible, he forced himself to concede. Even though it rarely happened, if ever, and he was one hundred percent sure of what he’d heard.

Perhaps he needed to put Erin to the test, he thought as she expounded the many glamorous things she’d done since arriving on Capri, fluttering her eyes, and giggling in a slightly grating high-pitched way. It was generous to give her the benefit of the doubt, he thought, giving himself a pat on the back for being so gracious.

‘So, tell me about Erin Carter,’ he said, putting his espresso cup down and leaning back in his chair, all the better to see her every action and reaction.

Her mouth hung open just a fraction and he realised that he’d been so focused on his thoughts that he’d interrupted her. Irritation quickly masked, she shrugged her shoulder, the move causing the shirt to slide a little down her arm.

Intentional?Likely.

‘Oh, there’s not much to tell,’ she said coquettishly.

It would, of course, be nothing for him to find out more about Erin Carter. He had the money and connections to root out every single fact about her.

But this would be more fun.

And, he realised, thiswasfun. Pitting his intellect against a worthy opponent. It wasn’t as if it would interfere with his summer plans. The next three weeks at least were free and clear.

‘I don’t believe that, Erin. Marcus wouldn’t invite anobodyto the party,’ Enzo insisted, though he was beginning to suspect that Marcus hadn’t invited her.