Page 137 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8

His eyes deepened with dark shadows. ‘How is not important. I’m here.’ He dipped a broad shoulder. ‘I survived. But I will never allow the hardships of life—’ he breathed heavily ‘—to harm a child of mine.’

And she understood a little of his determination to make sure the baby would never know such hardships.

‘I’ll never allow those things to harm my child either.’

‘How can you protect a child from dangers you can’t see?’ he countered. ‘Dangers you’ll never understand because you haven’t experienced them?’

‘I don’t need to experience a fire to understand it’s hot,’ she responded. ‘I don’t need to experience falling on a sharp corner to understand it must be baby-proofed.’

‘There is more to raising a baby than rounded edges.’

‘I know what’s important.’

‘And what is it, Aurora, that you believe is important?’ he asked.

‘I’ll never let them feel unwanted,’ she answered. ‘I will never ask them to be anything other than what they are. I will never throw them out simply because they upset or disappoint me. I will not disregard them, throw them away, when they find life hard, or when they make the wrong choices.’

‘All these things you tell me are about sentiment and feelings. Feelings won’t protect our child.’

‘I’ve been protected all my life,’ she summarised. ‘Fed. Clothed. Sheltered. And those things weren’t—aren’t—enough.’

His chest swelled. And she wanted to touch it. The power barely contained beneath the thin fabric moulded to every contoured muscle of his chest.

‘But that is all the baby needs.’

‘It’s not,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve always had those needs met. But I always wanted—needed—more.’

The memory of the last time she’d demanded more was inescapable. She didn’t want to escape it. She didn’t regret her boldness six months ago, and she wouldn’t regret it now.

‘And what is it you think thismoreis?’

‘I don’t know,’ she confessed. ‘But it isn’t dispassionate duty.’

His eyes held hers for a beat too long. ‘Love,’ he said, and the wordlovewas a heavy, dirty thing he spat out of his mouth. ‘Will not protect the baby.’

‘I didn’t mention love.’

‘You implied it. But I will never love you,’ he said, and it sounded like a threat to his very existence.

‘I didn’t ask you to love me,’ she said, but her heart squeezed as she imagined what it could be like to be loved by a man, loved bythisman, completely. Unconditionally.

All her life she’d asked for love, begged for it. And where had that gotten her? Playing a part in a family where she was merely a moving mouth, saying all the right words. The words they wanted to hear. No. Never again would she say words that weren’t her thoughts. Her feelings. Her truth. Never again would she beg for love.Ever.

‘Good,’ he replied. ‘Love isn’t a precursor to doing what’s needed. Dispassionate duty is all we can rely on.’

She bit her lip. Maybe he was right. She’d loved Michael, and that hadn’t been enough to keep him safe from harm. Her need to be loved by her parents had blinded her to the duty she had to her brother.

‘Your room is at the end of the corridor,’ he informed her, and she understood the negotiations were over. For now. But she needed a minute too. To think, to acclimatise to her new surroundings, her new life.

‘The chef will arrive at four, along with your belongings from Arundel Manor.’

Her brows knitted. ‘How have you managed that?’

He shrugged. ‘I am Sebastian Shard,’ he replied without ego.

But who was Sebastian Shard? Who was the man beneath the headlines? Didn’t she have a duty to her child to find out? She’d got a glimpse of him in New York, hadn’t she? He was a man of empathy. Passion. And today, he was a man of uncompromising duty.

‘She’ll meet with you and discuss your dietary requirements. A personal maid and a housekeeper will also be at your disposal. Explore the grounds,’ he said. ‘Make a list of any changes you require or anything you need, and I’ll provide it. Any other staff you need that I have overlooked, I’ll employ.’