Page 141 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

He disappeared into the kitchen to attend to the coffee machine, and Eleanora wondered what he’d meant.

She found out at breakfast the next day.

And when she did, dismay filled her.

* * *

Sanzio could see instant rejection in Eleanora’s face—and panic.

‘It’s completely unnecessary! I can wear my grey suit—’ she began.

He cut ruthlessly across her. ‘If you think you can turn up at Rome’s poshest art dealers and auction houses wearing that badly fitting, rubbish outfit you wore when you came to my office, think again! You wouldn’t even be taken for my secretary—believe me, Gina wouldn’t be seen dead in it!—let alone my wife! Let alone—’ he spelt out for emphasis ‘—Donna Eleanora da Verano Bastoni, intending to buy back the artworks sold by her father and forebears. You need to look the part. So—’ he took a breath, kept his eyes on hers across the breakfast bar ‘—that’s why we’re going shopping this morning.’

She was still reluctant, he could see, deeply so, but she seemed to be giving in.

That was exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to give in to him completely. It was all part of his plan for her. The plan he was determined on.

To become the woman I know she can be.

His eyes glinted with anticipation…

* * *

Trepidation filled Eleanora from head to toe as she walked into the elegant shop in the fashionable Via Condotti. This was going to be a disaster, she knew it was. The best that would happen was that she would look exactly the same as she had in the grey suit he’d condemned so roundly, but a more expensive version.

Because it wasn’t the clothes that were the problem.

It’s me—me that’s the problem.

She’d learnt that lesson under the lash of Tonia’s mocking derision. Now, as a well-dressed, beautifully coiffed commessa sailed up to them, Eleanora could see the woman’s eyes go straight to Sanzio, appreciatively—and then flicker to her, unappreciatively. But her smile was professional, her glance swiftly sizing up Eleanora’s figure. As she went off to find something that might suit the requirements Sanzio had issued, he wandered off, leafing through racks, while Eleanora stood, feeling like a lemon, totally out of place. If only Sanzio had let her go shopping on her own, she’d have grabbed the first thing that fitted and got the hell out of there in minutes.

But her ordeal was destined to take a lot, lot longer than mere minutes…

* * *

Sanzio sat back, satisfaction on his face.

‘Well, we’ve made a good start,’ he said, sitting back with his beer. He’d deliberately chosen a tourist restaurant for their late lunch because he knew Eleanora would balk at anywhere expensive lest she be seen with him by anyone likely to know either of them. She had a morbid fear of that, but at the moment he was prepared to pander to it.

For now—

‘Start?’ Eleanora rejoined predictably. ‘Sanzio, that’s the end! I only needed this one outfit!’ She patted the solitary carrier bag at her feet containing the calf-length navy blue plissé skirt and high-necked top, together with navy court shoes, which he’d agreed would be suitable for calling on art dealers and auction houses. ‘There was absolutely no point having me try on everything else you and the saleswoman kept handing me!’

He didn’t reply, looking about him instead, wanting to divert Eleanora from the morning’s expedition. For her it had been an ordeal, he could see. But for him—

A revelation! Proving to me exactly what I’d suspected all along—

And soon, very soon now, and his eyes glinted, it would be revealed to her, too…

But not right now.

‘This place reminds me of where I once worked,’ he mused. ‘I did two jobs. A construction site by day, waiting tables by night. Saving every penny. Then I took some night school sessions in business and finance, started to get ideas about how to make money.’

The diversionary tactic worked.

‘It sounds tough,’ Eleanora said. Her voice was sympathetic, and Sanzio liked her for it. Yet another thing he liked her for.

My humble origins don’t bother her—