Page 118 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8

His laughter stopped. ‘I am not asleep,’ he said, but he questioned if he was. If this was a nightmare. If his mind had conjured her for him. To punish him.

‘And neither am I,’ she said, teasing him with the reality of her. Teasing him with all that was within reach. Connection. Understanding.

His heart stopped. ‘I am not your awakening either.’

‘But you are, don’t you see?’

‘No,’ he said. He didn’t want to see. ‘You have mistaken a small kindest for more than it is. You misunderstand…me.’

‘Make love to me,’ she said, and her words were too loud. They boomed in his ears and echoed there until all he could hear was her on repeat.

‘Let me make love to you,’ she said, her voice so strong, so tempting.

‘You,’ he accused, ‘have heard nothing I have said.’

‘I’ve heard everything.’ She placed her small hand on her chest. ‘I know you’ve denied yourself everything.’

She moved closer, on silent feet, to stand in front of him. And his body recognised the shape of her. The heat of her. And it responded without his permission. It hardened again.

‘You don’t have to deny yourself me,’ she said.

His body hummed. Temptation parted his lips, readying themselves for a kiss. For her.

He’d never touched a woman. He’d been attracted to others, but not so breathlessly. Never had a woman made him ache with a need to touch. To be touched.

What would it feel like to claim this night? To let his guard down and forget all that came before it?

She began to raise her hands, and he braced himself for her touch. A touch he wanted more than air, he realised. More than any need to keep his vow…

Her palm cupped his cheek, and he couldn’t help it. He leaned into it. Into her. And she was so soft. So warm.

Her hand moved. Her fingers stroked over the hair above his ears. And now her touch was too gentle. Too light.

He needed…more.

‘Let me take it off.’ Her fingers played with the string tying his mask in place.

He caught her wrist. ‘No,’ he rasped. ‘I don’t want to know your face, and I don’t want you to know mine.’ Here in the garden, masked, they were equal.

They were both inexperienced. Both alone and full of grief. But if he removed her mask, if she removed his, she’d know who he was. Despite his achievements, he was still the boy who had grown up on the streets.

‘Okay. We’ll leave them on,’ she promised.

He released her wrist, and it fell weightlessly to her side. ‘If we do this…’ he started, and stopped.

He hadn’t been awefor so long, it felt strange to let it roll off his tongue.

‘Ifwedo this?’ she repeated, each word licking at his skin.

‘It will only be this once,’ he told her, because she needed to understand the rules.

‘No names, no attachments,’ he continued. ‘I don’t want a long-term lover. I don’t want to care for anything or anyone. I will forever live my life alone. I won’t care for you. Ever.’

Her big brown eyes locked onto his, and he knew he was lost to the night, to her, when she said, ‘Only tonight. Only once.’

He was seduced. Lulled to his demise by a siren.

You are a fanciful idiot.