Page 162 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

* * *

Eleanora lay there, cocooned in his embrace, pressed close against him. She could feel her heart still racing, her whole body still softly throbbing, a sense of bemused, incredulous wonder filling her. Had this really happened?

But how could she possibly deny it? Sanzio’s arms were fast around her, his sleeping breath warm on her throat, her body still possessing him…

As he had possessed her.

Taking her to a plane of existence she had not known could exist. So exquisitely, incandescently wondrous.

It echoed in her still—slow, low pulses within her, dying away, yet leaving her whole body with a glow that was like the warm embers of a fire that had consumed itself. That sense of wonder came again, her arms tightening around his strong, muscled body.

He had wanted her, desired her—the man she had thought indifferent to her. But she had been wrong—so completely, completely wrong.

And now—oh, now, happiness seared through her—he had made her his…

A smile played about her mouth, even as her eyelids drooped. Exhaustion was lapping at her, her heartbeat slowing, the tiny whorls of remnant pleasure dying away, slackening her limbs so intimately tangled with his. Her body eased, her breathing slowing, and in his arms, his cradled embrace, she let sleep claim her.

* * *

In the pre-dawn hours of the night, he reached for her again. Half asleep but wholly aroused, his body strengthened, rousing her, arousing her. This time was wordless, soundless, only the pulsation of her body telling him that she, like him, had sated herself with him, and he with her. As their heart rates slowed, their fused bodies eased, he slept again, and so did she.

In slumbrous peace in each other’s arms.

* * *

Eleanora awoke, wondering why she felt cold. Bereft. Then realised it was because her body was no longer curled against Sanzio’s. For a moment panic struck her. Had she only dreamt what had happened? Had it been nothing more than a cruel dream conjured by her hopeless longing for a man who did not want her?

Who had only ever wanted her sister?

Then, cutting through her fears, she heard the sound of water running, and Sanzio in the shower. He emerged a few moments later, with nothing but a towel snaked around his hips to cover him. She could not take her eyes from him. His own glinted as he came up to her, bent down to fist his hands either side of her pillow as he dropped a kiss on her mouth then straightened.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he told her, the glint in his dark eyes intensifying, ‘or I might just be unable to resist you again! However much,’ he said, reaching for the clothes he’d uncaringly chucked aside the night before, ‘I want to slake another appetite right now. Breakfast!’

It was curious, Eleanora thought—or maybe not so curious?—as they made their way some five minutes later to the farmhouse, that despite all that had happened last night, which she could not still quite believe was anything more than a fantasy of longing conjured by herself, despite all that, she and Sanzio could be as easy with each other now as they had come to be in their marriage.

But she wasn’t going to question it. Only revel in it. There was a glow about her, she could see it in her own reflection, that filled her inside as well. A happiness that shimmered in her, a wonder and a wondering. A radiance.

Because that was what it was, she knew, and went on knowing it. Knowing it all through the two more days they stayed at the agriturismo—their first full day filled, as Sanzio had suggested, with taking the bikes out and exploring the rural byways, fuelled by a picnic lunch packed for them by their host, then relaxing by the pool in the warmth of the westering sun. She thought wryly as she slipped into the water in her skimpy bikini, how she’d been nervous of Sanzio seeing her so nearly naked. And now—now she gloried in it. Gloried in letting her eyes feast openly on his bronzed torso. Gloried in letting him catch her in the pool, devour her with kisses until she slipped from him, diving away under the water, to surface and find he’d raced ahead of her, ready to catch and kiss her again.

The second day, they took his car out, making a day of visiting a famous Renaissance villa, discussing, as they toured it and the ornate gardens, what might apply to their own palazzo, a familiar, companionable subject of discourse. They returned to the agriturismo at the end of the afternoon, catching a late swim before repairing to the dining room for a last dinner there.

As they made their leisurely meal, Eleanora’s eyes rested on Sanzio, the glow in them still there, as it had been that first morning. It had seemed so unbelievable, what had happened, and yet it had. Sanzio had swept her into his arms and made her his. Reaffirming it with every glint in his eyes resting on her, every rasp in his voice, every casually possessive touch of his hand on her arm, the intimate, knowing smiles bestowed on her. The sense of union—belonging. Togetherness…

That went so, so far beyond the marriage they had made, or the reasons for it.

Because now we are lovers.

The word hung like a jewel between them.

Chapter Ten

It was strange to be back in Rome again after the carefree days out of the city. It was both exactly the same and completely different. The sameness was the easygoing companionship that they’d brought from the Palazzo—the difference was that Eleanora was no longer in the guest suite. And all that went with that…

That Sanzio will casually drop a kiss on my lips when he gets back from work, or up from the gym, that when we relax on the sofa we no longer sit at either end but I snuggle up with him, that his eyes will glow with desire when he looks at me. And mine for him whenever I look at him.

Happiness was constant in her. Happiness, and that same glow of wonder that she and Sanzio were lovers now. She did not want to think beyond that. Was content only to take the present as it came, day by day. Night by night.

It was all she wanted.