Page 95 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8

‘Isn’t that a little like the pot calling the kettle black?’

He didn’t like it, but she was right. The night before, he’d seen little beyond her obvious physical beauty. Just like the other men at the bar who’d been ogling her.

‘It’s fine,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I went through a phase where I tried very hard to escape notice, but I got sick of it. It’s not my problem if the world views me a certain way. But in terms of men, it’s important to be honest. I wouldn’t want to lead you on…’

‘So, you do date?’

She paled visibly. ‘I—’

It would have been kind to let her off the hook. To change the subject to something less important and personal. But Zeus was driven by a selfish need to understand her better, and so he sat silently, staring at her, waiting.

‘Yes, I’ve dated,’ she said, biting into that full, lower lip. ‘But not seriously. Not since— Not in a while.’

‘Something happened,’ he said, sure now that he was right, ‘to cause you to avoid men.’

She swallowed, her throat shifting visibly. ‘Yes.’ She toyed with the stem of her champagne flute, then glanced across at him uncertainly. ‘I—had what you could call a bad experience. I decided to be very careful after that.’

‘You weren’t careful before?’

‘I was naive,’ she muttered. ‘And far too trusting.’

He resisted the urge to point out that trusting anyone was a fool’s mistake; she didn’t seem to need to hear that from him. ‘And someone hurt you.’

She flinched, glancing down at her drink. Until that moment, he’d presumed she meant emotionally, but there was something about the strength of her reaction that thundered all the breath from his body, as he imagined that the hurt she was referencing might, in fact, have been physical.

‘Jane…’ He chose his words with care, ignoring his own self-preservation instincts, which were still imploring him to run a mile from this woman.

‘You don’t have to answer this…’ He reached out and put his hand on hers lightly, stroking the back of it.

‘Are we talking about an abusive relationship?’

Her eyes were saucer-wide when they met his, and to Zeus’s relief, she shook her head, hair cascading around her shoulders.

But then she looked down at the table once more and it felt as though a noose were tightening about his neck.

Because she was hiding something. Lying to him.

He knew it. He could tell. Something very bad had happened to her, and just the thought of that made Zeus’s blood boil.

He stood then, every cell in his body reverberating in rejection of what he was contemplating, as he came to crouch at her side so he could be closer to her, closer to her eye level.

‘Listen to me,’ he said, one hand on her thigh.

She stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted.

‘I am not going to pressure you. Not to tell me what you don’t want to tell me, and not to do anything you’re not comfortable with.

’ He stroked her thigh gently, saw the moment her pupils dilated, and heat flushed her cheeks.

‘But sex, between two consenting adults, is a beautiful, special thing. Not to mention a hell of a lot of fun.’ He knelt so he could brush his lips over hers.

‘If you’ve had a traumatic experience in the past, it’s natural that you’d want to run from it, that you’d want to avoid situations that might be a repeat of that.

’ He stroked her cheek, wondering at this strong protective instinct, at the way this woman he’d just met seemed to be the centre of his universe all of a sudden.

‘I will never hurt you. I will never push you to do something you’re not comfortable with.

And I will always, always listen to you. You’re in charge.’

Her eyes widened and she nodded, but it was a jerk, a pulse of her head, and he had no idea whether she believed him, or what he was promising. The morning before, he’d woken up with a clear objective, front and centre.

Get married.

To a woman he liked but would never love. To a woman he found attractive but wasn’t attracted to. To a woman that couldn’t possibly threaten the silo of independence he’d created, very intentionally, around himself.

And instead, he was tumbling headlong, in a way he couldn’t fight, into a situation with a woman who had the potential to occupy every single bit of his brain space.

But only if he let her.

Only if he let this. Desire, sexual chemistry, these were just part and parcel of being humans in the world.

Couldn’t he enjoy the physical side of this without letting her get under his skin?

She didn’t have to threaten anything. He was in control, just like always.

Except when it came to sex, because he had an unshakable sense that in that regard, she needed to call the shots.

To heal and recover. And he was more than willing to let her use him to get over whatever had happened in her past. After that, he’d get married.

To someone else. Someone safe. And the company that meant more than anything to him in the entire world would be, indisputably and irrevocably, his.

Jane’s knees were shaking for an entirely different reason now, as she pushed into the ladies’ room.

Not because she needed to avail herself of the facilities, but because she needed, desperately, space.

Having sat opposite Zeus for an entire dinner, legs touching but nothing else, she felt as though her nerves were stretched tighter than a high wire.

Her pulse was throbbing and her palms wouldn’t stop sweating.

I will never hurt you.

Five words that no man had ever known she needed to hear, an assurance that for some reason, with Zeus, she hadn’t needed him to say because she’d felt that truth in him, right from the start.

The fear she usually felt with the other sex hadn’t been there.

Not even a little, despite his far greater size and obvious habit of being in command.

With Jane, he was willing to take a backseat. He was willing to let her dominate. Because a man with a genuinely strong sense of self wouldn’t be intimidated by that. His ego wasn’t so fragile that he had to push his will on hers.

But this was all a disaster. She wasn’t here to be swept away by an attraction to Zeus Papandreo. She was here to tease and tempt him just long enough to stop him from getting married before Lottie could.

What a stupid, stupid idea that had been, she thought with a grimace, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

Absent-mindedly, she reached into her purse for some lipstick then carefully reapplied it.

How exactly had she thought she’d keep a guy like Zeus interested without sex coming up between them? With witty conversation?

It was not, in the end, a particularly well-thought-out plan. Or maybe the plan had been fine, but meeting Zeus had been her undoing, because she was starting to think he was nothing like she’d suspected.

Had he hurt Lottie? Inadvertently, yes. By being the acknowledged child and heir, the man who’d been raised as a proud Papandreo, he was an instrument of pain to Lottie.

But it was their shared father, Aristotle, who’d truly wounded Jane’s best friend.

Zeus wasn’t responsible for the choices his father made when he, Zeus, was still just a boy.

Which meant what, exactly? That she was free to flirt with him, after all? To kiss him, touch him, have sex with him? It would achieve the same thing for Lottie. But what about Zeus? Didn’t he deserve better than to be used like that?

She dropped her head forward, panic tightening inside her, alongside a growing feeling that she was already in deep, deep water.

But maybe the situation with Lottie didn’t even have to come into this.

She was capable of helping her friend without even having to actively engage in a scheme at all.

What was happening with Zeus had morphed into something genuine , so it wasn’t like she was lying to him, either.

She was just…letting this play out. And eventually, she’d go back to the UK, pick up the threads of her own life and Zeus would just be someone in her rear-vision mirror.

He’d never need to know her connection to Lottie, and Lottie wouldn’t need to know that, far from hating Zeus Papandreo as a loyal best friend should, Jane had actually started to wonder if he mightn’t be a genuinely decent person, after all.