Page 19 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8

And that was where they differed. He thought money could buy anything. But it couldn’t. Not what shereallyneeded.

Two hours later she gazed at the stunning view of sapphire waters dotted with emerald and topaz islands. It was heart-rendingly beautiful—a true paradise. And then Avra came into view. They passed over the small village clinging to the top of the steep hill. That first day they’d sat in the shade at that quiet taverna for several hours. He’d help her book a room at the adjacent hotel so she could stay the night. One night had turned into a week. She’d been amazed that the place wasn’t overrun with tourists. He’d told her the rich stayed at resorts, not the small villages, or visited briefly on their luxury boats. That not many ‘ordinary tourists’ made the difficult journey to get there, given there were party islands and equally picturesque places that were far easier to get to. Back then she’d been the kind of naïve person who took people at face value and believed what they told her.

It was almost a week before she’d learned the truth—that thetrulywealthy—like him—had theirownprivate resorts. Because he moved her into his enormous property. The stunning villa overlooked the coast, enhanced by terraced gardens and patios, an infinity pool and spa and a gorgeous curling path that led to the sheltered postcard-perfect beach. It was at that beach where the local mayor had married them in a fifteen-minute ceremony, having expedited the paperwork for his favourite resident.

When the helicopter touched down, Bethan stepped out and quickly moved clear. The gardens were still gorgeous—the plants those hardy herby sorts that thrived in heat and salt-kissed sea air. The villa was as stunning as she remembered too—white walls, warm stone, the neutral furnishings creating a cool yet cosy feel. The place was restful yet also designed for play. She knew there were water toys galore in the boat shed just up from the beach. Paddle boards, snorkels, jet ski, a solo-handing sailboat and more...she and Ares had used them all when they’d been here last. Their love for the water was probably their one true commonality. Aside from a hyper sex drive. Althoughthatshe’d only discovered with him. Because of him.

She drew a breath. There would be no repeat of those mistakes—that ‘magic’ couldn’t be recaptured. They’d taken a holiday fling too far and at the same time held too much back.

‘You take this room.’ He slung her small bag inside the bedroom they’d shared. ‘I prefer one on the other side.’

He walked out before she could argue. Her cheeks scalded as she gazed at the enormous bed. They’d had their wedding night here. She’d barely slept.

Needing to splash water on her face, she walked through the dressing room to get to the bathroom. She didn’t get there. She stopped, stunned at the sight of the clothing hanging on the rail.Herdresses were still here—including the silk she’d worn while barefoot on the beach for their wedding. Heart ricocheting, she opened the top drawer. Her bikini was neatly folded on the top—the black and white animal-print one she’d thought herself so bold in buying for that once-in-a-lifetime holiday.Allof the clothes she’d brought with her and the ones he’d bought her in that time were still here—not just the wedding dress but the lace shawl she’d admired in the local village. He’d arranged for her to spend time with the woman who’d made it for an afternoon and it had been amazing.

Breathlessly she ran a flannel beneath cold water, battling the sinking feeling she was right back where she’d started—trapped inside a total infatuation. Just being near him destroyed her brain but she couldn’t let herself fall for him again. She knew now how good at masking he was—that he was cold inside. And yes, calculating. His desire for her to be at the galawascalculating and while maybe he had valid reasons, her understanding them wouldn’t make him any less so. The fact was his work mattered more to him than anything. More to him than family. He’d not loved her the way she’d needed to be loved. Honestly, she didn’t know if he could love anyone in that way. That couldn’t be her problem again. She couldn’t change him but she could change herself—shehad. She’d wised up and now she just had to stay strong and understand that all they’d had was nothing deeper than intense physical chemistry. But she couldn’t let herself have him again because then she would want the more he couldn’t give. She’d lost enough already and now she had a good life that she wasn’t going to jeopardise just for lust.

She stuffed her notebook, pens and knitting into her tote. She would continue working on the blanket for Phoebe’s baby, maybe start a jersey and sketch props ideas. She’d been bluffing about having urgent work. If she kept busy the time would go quickly and—heartbreakingly—she’d always found this place creatively inspiring. Assuming he’d be working in the study, she went out to the infinity pool. And skidded to a stop. In swim shorts and nothing else, Ares was clearly about to dive in. But he caught sight of her and didn’t.

His gaze nailed her to the spot. As did his beauty. It was so unfair that he was this lethally good-looking.

‘All okay?’ he asked.

She nodded, battling the intensity of his scrutiny, unable to bring herself to ask why he’d kept her entire wardrobe here. It wouldn’t have been for anyspecialreason. He’d probably just been too busy to be bothered.

‘Um.’ She needed an escape. ‘I’m going to work in the lounge, it’s too hot out here.’

Hewas too hot.

‘There’s a studio you can use if you would prefer,’ he said. ‘Your own space. This way.’

Unable to resist, she followed him, taking in the endless blue shades of pool, ocean, sky—thankful because it gave her something to stare at instead of Ares’s tanned, muscular frame and the lithe grace with which he moved. In truth that brilliant blue vista had been seared on her memory and was a constant inspiration. She’d made several sculptures using those colours as an ode to this place—trying to exorcise the heart-aching beauty of it from her soul. One of those pieces had been the one she’d sold.

‘Here.’ Ares opened a door.

She’d thought this building on the further side of the pool was a guest house or staff quarters. Indeed perhaps this large, cool room had once been a lounge but now it was undeniably an artist’s studio. She stared at the floor-to-ceiling shelves running along the back wall—many filled with a shocking array of unopened packages. The labels identified them—not just paints and pencils, but tools. A sewing machine on the table. Assorted scissors in a block. There was even a pottery wheel. Bethan worked with multi-media and this enormous workroom was...almost complete. There was a large worktable with a lamp. Another desk. A low, obviously comfortable armchair. He’d made this paradise of an island home even more perfect—this was the sort of place she could spend hours in, like the shed at her grandmother’s cottage.

‘You liked crafts, I built you a studio. I’m not sure if there’s everything you need for your project but, as I said, we can pick up anything else you need from London.’

She hardly heard him, too busy being astounded. She moved deeper into the absolute arcadia, angling her head to read a smaller label. ‘When did you have this done?’

‘It was to be your wedding present but you never came back here to see it.’

Bethan turned, her lungs tight. He’d leaned back, gripping the edge of the counter, a vision of bronzed skin and tense, rippling muscles. Why hadn’t he gotten rid of it?

‘I haven’t been back here much either,’ he added in a low mutter.

‘Busy with work.’

‘Yes.’

How could he be so thoughtful and yet so remote?

‘You confuse me,’ she murmured.

‘Don’t read anything into it,’ he said gruffly. ‘I wanted you to be happy here.’

Happy.Here.Not in Athens. Not actuallywithhim through the week. That old bitter, bereft ache rose. And this room was separate from the main house—again,awayfrom him. He mightn’t like those dinner parties, but he’d still wanted distance from her. While part of him was so generous, this place would have suited him too. Suited him best.