Page 94 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8

CHAPTER FOUR

It was the one thing she could have said to drive him to the breaking point.

If there was one thing Zeus loved as much as he hated an ultimatum, it was a challenge, and here was the most beautiful, sensual woman Zeus had ever met, a woman who had had the rare power of keeping him from sleep the night before, so tormented had his dreams been, telling him that she was off-limits.

It was like a red rag to a bull.

But it was something more than that, too.

It’s not like I’m waiting until I’m married…

Only, what if she did? What if she waited until she was married, and she just so happened to marry him ?

He needed a wife. He needed a wife quickly , and if last night had proven anything, it was that things between them had the power to move swiftly—faster than either of them had really expected. He thought of Philomena and his insides were cold, despite the fact he knew she was the smart choice.

Jane wasn’t marriage material.

No, that wasn’t accurate.

He couldn’t marry someone like Jane. She was dangerous.

Threatening. Because with Jane, there was a risk he might come to want more—that he might actually care about her more than in a sensible, rational, platonic way.

Even the way her lip had trembled a little as she’d confessed her celibacy had triggered a long-suppressed protective instinct, reminding him of how he’d felt as a young boy who’d desperately wanted to fix his mother, but couldn’t.

Zeus had grappled with that impotence and decided the only antidote to it was strength.

Control. Making sure he was in charge of every element of his life.

With Philomena, he could imagine that. It was easy.

He liked and respected her, she was intelligent and interesting, but he could never imagine becoming addicted to her.

Whereas Jane… His eyes shifted to her face just as she pursed her lips together, almost as if she were nervous, and his stomach twisted.

‘What do you do, Jane?’

‘Do?’

‘For work.’

‘Right.’ She blinked those wide-set blue eyes, as if he’d dragged her back into the present from some absorbing thought or other. ‘I’m a lawyer.’

He tilted his head, thoughtfully.

‘That is to say, I have my law degree and was admitted to the bar, but I actually work in the not-for-profit sector.’

‘Charities?’ he asked, for some reason not surprised. Despite her almost excessive beauty and confidence, there was something vulnerable and sweet about her, too. He could imagine her caring a little too much—the opposite of him, then.

She nodded, and her blond hair, which she’d styled in loose, voluminous waves, bobbed around her face, so he itched to reach out and touch it.

To touch her. I’m celibate. The words chased around and around in his mind, making him wonder why.

Clearly, it wasn’t a lack of sensual need and desire—he’d felt that flare between them the night before, and her attraction to him had been as unmistakable as his own.

‘Which sector?’

‘Mostly, I deal with homelessness, though I’ve just come off a maternity contract working for people leaving domestic violence.

We helped get them set up in shelters and whatever else was needed.

Oftentimes, these people are leaving with absolutely nothing, so it involves sourcing clothes, computers, new phones and phone numbers so they can apply for jobs, everything. ’

He leaned closer, focusing on her with razor-sharp intensity. ‘Did you always want to work in charities?’

She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. ‘I guess so.’

‘And the law degree was the best way to do that?’

‘Actually, I tend to work on the legal side of these foundations, so yes.’ She nodded. ‘But also—’

He waited for her to continue, wondering at the slight pause, the flushing of her cheeks. She sipped her champagne then leaned forward, mirroring his body language. And when she shifted, her legs moved, too, so her knees brushed against his and he felt a tightening in every cell of his body.

I’m celibate.

‘I guess you could say I’m also in the family business.’

‘Your parents are lawyers?’

‘My father is,’ she said with a wave of her delicate, fine-boned hand. Her skin was so flawless, like honey and caramel all melted together.

‘In the same sector?’

‘Human rights. Edward Fisher. You might have heard of him.’

‘Edward Fisher is your father?’

She nodded once.

‘Impressive. He’s achieved a lot.’

Her smile was tight. ‘Yes.’

‘You must be very proud.’

‘Must I?’ She sighed then. ‘Sorry, we’re not close, but yes, I’m proud of the work he’s done.’

Fascinating. Dangerous. Zeus knew he should walk away.

Make up an excuse, leave, just like he’d done the night before, then delete her number.

Change his if he had to. Because Jane was the last woman he should be spending time with at this point of his life.

Right now, when it was imperative that he make the smart decision and marry someone who would be right for him, he couldn’t afford to waste time with a woman who had the potential to scuttle all his plans.

Except…it was just dinner. He could spend some time with Jane, see where it went.

Philomena had been his friend for a long time; she wasn’t going anywhere.

If he decided to suggest marriage to her, he could do that in a week, a fortnight, a month.

In the meantime, he was free to do what he wanted, just as he always had.

But the sooner you’re married, the better , a voice in his head chided him. Then, he could set aside the worry about inheriting the company. He could formalise his ownership, and his father’s indiscretion would lose any power to hurt him.

A muscle throbbed in his jaw as he contemplated the deep betrayal of his father’s affair, the shifting of the man from the pedestal upon which Zeus had held him.

He’d thought they were united in their desire to protect Anna Maria Papandreo.

To love her and keep her safe and happy.

But all the while, Aristotle had been sleeping around behind her back.

Anger flooded Zeus, so for a moment he almost forgot where he was.

‘Zeus?’ Jane reached across the table and put her hand on his. ‘Are you okay?’

He laughed, but it was a forced, brittle sound. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Look, if you want to go,’ she said with a lift of one of those delightful, bare shoulders, ‘I’ll understand. I know I’m not what I seem.’

He considered that carefully. ‘What do you think you seem like?’

She gestured to her hair first. ‘I think guys see the blond hair, my figure, and decide I’m some kind of sex kitten, ready to leap into bed.’

‘You’re very beautiful,’ he said, rather than admit that his first thought upon seeing her had been wondering how quickly he could get her from the bar to his home and naked on his sheets.

Unlike a lot of women he knew, she didn’t seem flattered by that.

If anything, her expression tightened to one of disappointment and when she said, ‘thank you,’ it was through gritted teeth.

There was more here than she was telling him.

More he wanted to understand, because understanding things was one of Zeus’s core business strategies.

Whenever they’d taken over another company, he’d spent the first month simply observing.

Seeing how it ran. Where were the problems?

What were the strengths? While it would have been easy to rush in like a bull at a gate with his own ideas and thoughts, he’d have risked missing something important.

‘Tell me what happened,’ he invited, leaning back in his chair but kicking his legs forward, so they were placed on either side of hers.

Jane’s eyes widened and heat flared in his gaze; he felt it, too.

Desire. A rush of it, wrapping around them like a cocoon, but nothing so comfortable or soporific.

No, this was a wild, flagrant cataclysm of animalistic wants, which made it all the more imperative for him to understand why she needed to fight this.

‘With my father?’ she asked, and he suspected she was deliberately misunderstanding him.

‘With your celibacy.’

‘Oh.’ She glanced down at her drink, and at that moment, the curtain swished open and a waiter walked in. Zeus could have strangled the man, though of course, the intrusion wasn’t exactly his fault. Nor was it unexpected. They were at a restaurant; they had to order food. That was how it worked.

‘Good evening. Do you have any questions about the menu?’

‘I haven’t even looked,’ Jane murmured.

Zeus fixed the waiter with a stare. ‘What does the chef recommend?’

The waiter reeled off a few dishes; Zeus turned to Jane. ‘Any problems with that?’

She shook her head and this time, when her blond hair bounced around her angelic face, it released a hint of her fragrance, vanilla and cherries, so his gut clenched.

He turned to the waiter to tell him to bring the chef’s recommendations and caught the look of undisguised admiration on the other man’s face as he also stared at Jane.

Something twisted sharply in Zeus’s gut, and not just at the waiter’s lack of professionalism. Jealousy. Protectiveness. Emotions that should have made him run a mile, rather than sitting there, waiting impatiently for them to be left alone.

‘That’s all.’ He dismissed the waiter curtly and caught the other man’s cheeks darken with a hint of embarrassment. Zeus turned back to Jane.

When they were alone again, she arched a brow and smiled at him. That smile that seemed to filter all the light from all the world and beam it across the room.

‘You sound cross.’

He shook his head once. ‘I’m not.’

‘Not with me,’ she said, then lifted her shoulders again. ‘Or jealous?’

Was he that transparent? And how bad was that? The fact that he was being so exposed to this woman, when usually he was a closed book. Warning sirens were blaring but he didn’t seem capable of heeding them.

‘You just told me you don’t like being objectified and then he walked in and couldn’t stop staring.’