Page 16 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

“You did say all night, Mr. Hawke.”

His hands clamp down on my hips.

“A promise I have every intention of keeping,” he murmurs before he arches his hips up and drives deep inside me once more.

Chapter Six

Sophaya

Watery morning light breaks through the curtains. For the first time in months, there were no nightmares, no fears yanking me awake. There was only Dominic and the comforting warmth of his naked body pressed against mine.

I don’t look at him. Not yet. I want to savor the moment before I return to reality.

A shrill ring sounds from the other side of bed. Apparently, reality is kicking in with a vengeance. I moan into my pillow and throw an arm over my eyes as the bed shifts next to me. I crack one eye open and look over my shoulder in time to see Dominic roll out of bed and grab his phone off the nightstand.

“Hawke.”

I stretch my arms overhead and smile as I take in the chiseled muscles of his back, the strong curves of his rear and the thickness of his thighs. I know he said one night. But perhaps I can convince him to indulge one last time before breakfast arrives.

“What?” Dominic barks.

The change in the atmosphere is instant, a palpable feeling that chills the room.

“Understood.” He hangs up.

I sit up, my skin cool, the back of my neck prickling with warning. When he turns back to me, I feel the severing of the connection between us as if someone stabbed me in the chest.

“They caught the stalker.”

Relief hits me, makes my limbs heavy as I brush strands of hair out of my face. It’s over. The nightmare I’ve been living for the past few months is over. No more looking over my shoulder, no more falling asleep wondering if tonight will be the night he sneaks past security and breaks into my room. “Where?”

“Infiltrating the palace.”

My hands fist in the sheets. “Is my family okay?”

I may not like my parents, but they’re my family. The thought of them being subjugated to whatever punishment my stalker had reserved for me is terrifying.

Dominic’s face softens. “Yes. He was caught in the garden.”

My breath rushes out. “Thank you.”

The gentleness vanishes. He nods curtly before he reaches down and grabs his shirt off the floor, shoving his arms into the sleeves with an almost angry energy. The edges of his shirt gape, leaving his muscled chest on display.

Right. Because I ripped his tuxedo shirt open like a wild woman.

“Dominic?”

“There was also a photo.”

I frown, confused. “One the stalker took?”

“No. Of us.”

I still. My head snaps around to the curtained windows as fear pushes into my throat. “Doing what?”

“On the balcony having dinner.”

I roll to the other side and grab my phone off the nightstand. I type in my name and Dominic’s along with Venice. In a moment several links pop up. The first one features a dark, grainy photo taken at a distance. My back is to the camera, my head turned just enough that my profile is barely visible. Dominic’s face is more prominent, but he’s seated on the other side of the table.