Page 183 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8

Her question was like a lightning bolt, spiking through him. ‘I don’t owe you anything. What we’ve been doing has been mutually agreed upon and satisfying, but neither one of us gave more than we took.’

‘True,’ she conceded, with a dip of her head. Honesty was another trait he liked in Charlotte.

‘You said you never wanted to get married.’

‘I don’t,’ she reassured him.

‘Then this makes no sense.’

Her smile now was not just a corner of her lips, but rather her whole, beautiful mouth, revealing her gleaming white teeth and that deep dimple in her cheeks—one of the first things he’d noticed about her, the night they’d met at a charity gala. Followed swiftly by her confidence and poise, by the direct way she had of staring at a person.

‘You’re the second person to say that to me this week.’

He arched a brow in silent enquiry and Charlotte waved a slender-wristed hand through the air. ‘Oh, Jane thinks I’m quite mad, too.’

He furrowed his brow. He’d met Charlotte’s best friend Jane on the same night he’d met Charlotte, though if pressed to describe her, he wouldn’t have been able to say more than that she had blond hair and had, he thought, been wearing a long, black dress. But he knew from conversations with Charlotte that the two women lived together, worked together and were basically inseparable. So the fact Janealsothought Charlotte had come up with some hair-brained, half-baked scheme boded well for Dante.

‘Okay, so how about we just forget it and go back to what we do best.’

‘Which is?’

Beneath the table, he pressed one foot out, stroking her calf, and saw the way her eyes widened in surprise.

‘This.’

She bit down on her lower lip, massaging it with her teeth. His gut twisted for a whole other reason now, with a rush of blood heading south.

‘Dante, listen to me.’ Her voice was husky though and, when she reached for her drink, those beautiful hands weren’t quite steady. ‘I know this is just sex. That’s one of the reasons I decided to talk to you first.’

His lips flicked with a quick, thunderstorm of dislike.Firstimplied there were others to come if he said ‘no’.

‘I like having sex with you,’ she said, as though they were discussing the weather. ‘But what I like even more is that you and I are on the same page about a whole host of things.’

Dante’s frown broadened. Because in many ways, they were complete opposites. Charlotte was a free-spirited bohemian who bought second-hand clothes and sponged off her best friend. He wasn’t one to give expensive gifts but on the few occasions he’d suggested flying her with him to his island in the Med, she’d refused so much as the gift of a seat on his jet. Dante admired her pride, but not her hatred for capitalism and financial success.

‘We’re chalk and cheese, Shaw, and you know it.’

She laughed then, a sound that didn’t help the whole blood-flow situation. His cock strained against the zip of his pants and suddenly he wanted to dispense not only with this conversation but with dinner too, so they could get straight back to his apartment.

‘Okay, yes, we’re chalk and cheese. But that’s what makes this plan so great.’

‘Go on,’ he said, his tone like iron despite a deep feeling of reluctance to continue this conversation.

‘We don’t really like each other,’ she said, with a lift of one shoulder.

‘I like you just fine.’

‘You like sleeping with me,’ she retorted, whip fast. ‘This relationship is about sex. It has been since day one. I think you’re arrogant, shallow, bossy, capitalistic and sometimes kind of rude.’

He laughed then, because the description was so bluntly, honestly and deservedly given.

‘I also think you’re as cold as ice.’ She shuddered a little. ‘A total closed book on anything beyond the superficial. And that’s okay, because in bed, there’s nothing cold about a damned thing between us. And that’s what I’m here for.’

‘Except, for the whole marriage thing?’ he drawled, glad for her abrupt rendering of his character.

‘Right,’ she nodded. ‘The thing is, I need to get married and quickly. It can’t be a pretend engagement, or I’d just hire someone, with a watertight NDA. No, this has to be an actual, legal wedding. Except, I can’t marry someone I like and I can’t marry someone who might like me—I don’t want the emotional complications right now. I need this to be easy.’

He nodded along like this all made perfect sense when, of course, the opposite was true. He tried to focus on the facts she’d hinted at but not revealed. Something like acid seemed to burn the back of his throat. He leaned forward, eyes pinning her, as years of fights and failings built inside of him then burst like a storm cloud as his worst fear appeared before his eyes. ‘Charlotte...are you pregnant?’ The question came out calmly, although his pulse had ratchetted up about a thousand per cent.