Page 202 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8

‘Yes,’ she said, trying to remember the fib she and Lottie had concocted. They figured they needed three months to give Lottie enough time to find someone to marry and put everything in motion. Three months lined up with summer and, as luck would have it, the maternity contract Jane had been covering had finished two weeks earlier, so she was at a loose end for the next little while, anyway.

‘For any reason in particular?’

‘I’ve never been.’ That, at least, was true.

‘How is that possible?’

‘Well, I hate to break it to you, but it’s not actually the centre of the world.’

He pulled a fake wounded expression. ‘But surely it’s one of the most beautiful places.’

‘I’ll have to take your word for it,’ she murmured. ‘I only arrived this afternoon.’

His brows shot up. ‘And you’re wasting time in a bar, rather than exploring?’

‘I was thirsty.’

He laughed. ‘And hungry?’

‘That depends. Are you asking me for dinner?’

His eyes bore into hers. ‘Unfortunately, I have plans tonight.’ Her heart dropped to her toes in an unexpectedly real response. Plans? She panicked. A date? With someone else? Another contender for his bride? Desperation made her lean a little closer, and she realised she still had her hand on his knee from earlier.

Go big, or go home, she thought, gliding it just an inch or so higher, as her eyes hooked to his and held.

His pants were soft to touch, but his leg muscle was tight and strong, so she couldn’t help but imagine him without these pants. Imagine the way he’d be all tanned and hair roughened and… The image was making her insides swirl uncomfortably.

What are you doing?her inner Jane cried.

The inner Jane who’d kept her safe for six years by urging her to avoid men, and particularly men like Zeus. Not only was she flirting with him, baiting with him, she was also walking right into a fire, seemingly uncaring about getting burned.

‘That’s a shame,’ she murmured as her glance fell on his lips. Her whole body tingled.

‘Is it?’

‘Well, for me,’ she murmured, unconsciously moving closer. ‘I would have liked to share dinner with a local. I’m sure you could tell me the best sights in town.’

‘Like a tour guide?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Jane,’ he said, moving then so their legs brushed beneath the table, and his much larger frame suddenly seemed not only to trap her but also to envelop her completely. In that instant, she was overwhelmed by her senses—his smell, his warmth, his closeness, the feeling of his trousers beneath her palm. But not fear. Again, she marvelled at that, because fear had seemed to be such an ingrained response in her, with so many men since Steven. Why not Zeus? ‘I’d like to see you again.’

Her gut twisted. ‘I thought we just agreed you’d be my tour guide.’

He nodded slowly. ‘But we both know that’s not what I’m talking about.’

Her heart stammered hard into her ribs. ‘Isn’t it?’

He arched a brow. ‘Unless I’m mistaken…’ And then, he mirrored her gesture, putting his hand on her bare leg just above the knee and moving a little higher. The contact was both completely welcome and utterly shocking—shocking because of how her senses screamed in immediate recognition and want. Need.

She blanked thoughts of Lottie then, trying not to imagine what her best friend would say if she knew how much Jane was enjoying this lothario’s attentions. Jane! Who’d thought no man on earth could stir anything like interest in her any longer. She hadn’t felt a rush of physical attraction foranyonesince that awful night when she’d lost control—had it taken away from her—and been truly terrified. It was as though her whole body had been put into stasis, yet now it was waking up, and waking up fast.

He moved his hand higher, slowly, eyes watching her the whole time, silently inviting her to stop him, to ask him to stop, but she didn’t. Just knowing that he was watching for that relaxed her enough to enjoy this. She feltsafe.Her lips parted and she moved a little closer, dropping her head near the curve of his neck.

His fingers crept towards her inner thigh, to the expanse of flesh revealed by the very short skirt she wore, and higher still. ‘Tell me to stop,’ he said, inviting her to pause this madness, his voice low and throaty.

‘We’re in a bar,’ was all she said, but it was hardly an answer, or a problem, because they were hidden away in a corner of the bar, and his frame was large enough to hide her entirely from view.