Page 20 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T HE LAST THING Sofia wanted to do was spend the day alone with Ivo when he was so determined to get to know her. She’d have to be constantly on her guard, and after last night she was exhausted enough already.

But what choice had she had?

She’d run out of options.

And as a result, she was now sitting in the passenger seat of a low-slung black convertible that wound through the hills inland to the north of the south coast, thinking that, despite his insistence this wasn’t a date, it certainly felt like one.

The wind whipped through her hair. The sun was warm on her face.

The gorgeous man handling the powerful car like a pro was her lover, her husband, who’d arranged a day off, a day out, who’d loaded the boot with a picnic and wished he wasn’t who he was.

Was he aware of the whisper of regret that had tinged those words? she wondered as she stole a glance at him, her breath catching at the sight of his handsome profile and strong sexy forearms. She couldn’t imagine he was. He’d be appalled.

She, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to let it go despite her attempts to do exactly that.

What did it mean? For all his protestations to the contrary, did he actually want romance?

Deep down, did he yearn for love, like she did?

What would be the implications if he did?

A relationship that didn’t have to be the loveless match she’d signed up to?

A chance that he might actually come to return her feelings?

Ivo slowed to turn off the main road and onto a narrow lane that led through a village and then up yet another hill.

Sofia similarly applied an emergency brake to these dangerous and oddly seductive thoughts.

He was bound by duty—and he accepted and embraced that—but he wouldn’t be human if he didn’t experience the occasional what if himself.

She must not ‘get the wrong idea’ and fall into the trap of imagining things that didn’t exist. She had to keep her feet on the ground and the convenience aspect of their relationship at the forefront of her mind and remember that this wasn’t a date and she was glad about that.

As for finding out what made her tick and the questions he was no doubt lining up to fire at her the second he had a chance, she’d just have to get in there first. Go on the offensive and ask him some questions for a change.

Wheedle out his secrets and expose his vulnerabilities to uncover the man that nobody else saw. He wasn’t the only one with tenacity.

They pulled up at a set of huge wrought iron gates and the two pairs of outriders veered away and disappeared, leaving them alone.

The gates swung open and he depressed the throttle to roar up the cypress-tree-lined drive, a five-second burst of recklessness that was as unexpected as the faded jeans and untucked polo shirt he wore.

After bringing the car to a sharp stop at the top of it, kicking up gravel some distance from a huge gleaming white structure, Ivo levered himself out of the driver’s seat and strode round the bonnet to the passenger side. With a yank on the handle, he opened her door and stood aside.

‘Here we are,’ he said, as she swung her legs round and rose from the seat in a move that would have been a lot more elegant had his gaze not fixed on the bare skin below her skirt and darkened, as if he was remembering those legs entwined with his.

He slammed the door shut, jolting Sofia out of similar hot and distracting memories.

Getting a grip, she shaded her eyes and looked up and around.

The plain, almost round monolith rose from the high ground into the bright blue sky, dominating the view for miles.

In the distance, beyond the undulating landscape, she could even see the sea. ‘And where, exactly, is that?’

‘Rafifi Castle.’

‘It doesn’t look much like a castle,’ she said, scanning the building and its environs. ‘Where’s the moat? Where’s the drawbridge? Why doesn’t it have any of those long thin openings for archers?’

‘Who knows?’ He reached into the car for the floppy wide-brimmed sun hat that she’d placed on the back seat for the ride.

‘It was built in the thirteenth century but there are no relevant documents as to its purpose. It was obviously never designed to be a military building. It has no stables or dungeons and up until a hundred years ago didn’t even have any bedrooms, let alone a kitchen.

What it is is a perfect octagon. One theory is that it was built as a sundial.

Something to do with the mysterious laws of the stars, I believe. ’

‘How fascinating.’

‘It sounds completely far-fetched, if you ask me. It was probably built as a folly.’

Sofia took the hat from him and positioned it on her head while he strode round to the boot and opened it. A distant memory from her history lessons flitted into her head. ‘Isn’t the estate where your grandfather honeymooned with your grandmother and almost collapsed the monarchy nearby?’

‘It is.’

‘Worth a visit?’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘If it’s anything like this place, I can see why they didn’t emerge for six months. Peace, privacy, views to die for. What’s not to like? It must have been idyllic.’

‘I’m sure it was, for them ,’ he said, as he extracted the picnic basket and set it on the ground before delving back inside for the blanket. ‘For everyone else, scrabbling around to see off the army and restore order, it must have been horrendous.’

‘They were in love.’

‘They were selfish.’

‘Surely you can empathise.’

He straightened so sharply he nearly cracked his head on the lid of the boot. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

‘Not what. Who. Carolina, Countess of Vila Real. According to the tabloids at the time, you were mad about her.’

Ivo’s jaw clenched. He seemed to turn to stone right before her eyes. ‘The tabloids were wrong.’

‘She was very beautiful,’ she said, recalling the extensive press coverage, the envy their relationship had aroused and the shameful relief she’d felt when they’d split up.

‘Only on the outside.’ He gave the boot lid a good shove down and picked up lunch.

‘She cheated on me and afterwards tried to sell the story of our relationship to the press. If the palace hadn’t killed it, I’d have been crucified.

No one would ever have taken me seriously, either then or now.

It was not a pleasant experience in any shape or form. ’

No, Sofia thought with a pang of sympathy as they set off for the giant oak door.

She could imagine. He’d have been mortified and appalled to have been shamed so publicly, even if only the breakup had hit the news.

Who wouldn’t? And she could understand his abhorrence of drama because of it.

But to be betrayed like that… Whether or not love had been involved, it had to have hurt, and her heartstrings twanged at the thought of him in pain.

‘No wonder you’re once bitten, twice shy. ’

‘I will never put myself in that situation again.’

‘That’s understandable,’ she said, wishing she could get her hands on his faithless, treacherous ex.

‘It’s also one of the many reasons I picked you for the role of Queen.’

Oh? ‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re as interested in love as I am. Not at all, in other words. I couldn’t have married someone who hoped for more than I’m prepared to give in that regard. It’s a tough enough gig as it is, without throwing unreasonable expectations into the mix.’

Sofia nearly tripped on a stone. Forget the unreasonableness of expectations. He thought they were on the same page about love? When had she ever given him that impression? ‘What makes you think I’m uninterested in love?’

‘No evidence of a boyfriend in all the years you’ve worked at the palace,’ he said with disconcerting conviction. ‘Plus, you’re as devoted to your job as I am. It’s so all-consuming there’s little time for anything else. An external relationship would never survive the neglect.’

‘I see,’ she said faintly. ‘You seem to have it all worked out.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I do.’ He opened the door and stood aside to let her pass out of the hot bright sunlight into the cool dark of the cavernous hall. ‘Come on in. I’ll show you around.’

Unable to work out why the proximity of his grandparents’ honeymoon hideaway was suddenly playing on his mind, Ivo concentrated on giving Sofia a potted history of the castle, complete with dates, figures and any other facts he could recall.

She, however, didn’t seem to be appreciating his vast wealth of knowledge on the subject.

‘And then eighteen months ago,’ he said, as they stood in the space at the centre of the structure. ‘I guillotined the Lord Mayor in this very courtyard.’

She nodded vaguely. ‘Right.’

‘Are you paying attention to anything I’m saying?’

Her gaze jerked to his. ‘Huh? Sorry. I’m a little distracted.’

Yes, he could see that. ‘By what?’

‘By what you said at the car. About your ex-girlfriend and the effect she had on you.’

He stilled. Frowned. Why the hell would she be thinking about that ? ‘What does that have to do with anything?’

‘Love doesn’t have to be dramatic and destructive, you know.’

His frown deepened into a scowl. Now what was she doing?

Why was she talking about love when neither of them had any interest in it?

And what was that emotion that laced her voice?

It was the same thing he’d caught when she’d mentioned how his grandparents had felt about each other.

Was it… wistfulness ? It had better not be.

That would suggest a hankering for something that this marriage was not—and never could be—about.

‘It has the potential to bring down a monarchy,’ he said, determined to banish such an unfathomable sentiment, if that was what it was.

‘To humiliate and weaken those foolish enough to indulge it. And let’s not forget, it drove your parents over a cliff. ’