Page 3 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

“Did you forget you have a stalker?”

Something flickers in her eyes. Uncertainty, maybe even fear. Good. Better to be scared and alert than dead.

“No.” She glances over my shoulder. “Claude is here.”

I roll my eyes. “Claude is barely out of college.”

“He’s good at his job.”

“So good he allowed you to bribe him into coming here?”

A faint blush blooms at the base of her throat and creeps up her long, slender neck. “I didn’t bribe him.”

“Then what?”

That pointed chin comes up another degree. “I asked. Politely.” Her lips curve into a sickeningly sweet smile. “You should try it sometime.”

“The man’s lucky I’m not in charge of security. He’d be fired before you left the palazzo.”

“Then it’s a good thing you aren’t a permanent addition to my security team.”

Her casual dismissal grates across my skin. “A sentiment we both agree with.”

Before she can respond, the music ends. Out of the corner of my eye, I see more than one man eyeing her with a hunger that puts me on alert. I step back but keep one hand entwined with hers.

“Follow me.”

Chapter Two

Dominic

For once, Sophaya doesn’t argue. Just trails behind me as we navigate the crowded dance floor and move into a smaller salon. Candles flicker atop tall tables draped in violet silken cloth. Another bar is set up along the wall, with couples and small groups clustered together as they dine on grilled scallops and raw oysters. Fortunately, other than a curious glance, none of them pay us any attention.

Sophaya pauses only once at the foot of an elaborate staircase. “Where are we going?” Her voice is bland, almost bored. As if she doesn’t care that she literally risked her life pulling a stunt like this.

“Up,” I snap.

“Why?”

“Several men were looking at you.”

“I know you might find it hard to believe, but sometimes men find me attractive.”

I plow forward, ignoring her words even as guilt pricks the base of my neck. I have nothing to feel guilty about. The woman violated my orders, orders that are keeping her alive. She lied to me. She could have been photographed or, worse, hurt.

I tighten my grip as we walk up. Her fingers tense in mine, then slowly relax. My fingertips press against her palm. Heat sears my skin. I ignore it. It’s been months since I’ve had sex. Her Highness may be an irritant I can’t rid myself of, but she’s attractive. My reaction is physical, nothing more.

We reach the third floor. I look in the first room, filled with half a dozen people drinking champagne and examining the art on the walls. But the second room, boasting a gold floral motif on the wall and a speckled marble fireplace, is empty. I pull Sophaya in and release her hand before I close the sliding doors behind us.

I exhale. Then, slowly, I turn.

She stands in the middle of the room, the dark blue of her dress a calming presence in the sea of gold wallpaper and black marble along the base of the wall. The wing-like fabric around her arms rustles softly. If Her Highness had her way, I have no doubt she’d fly as far away from me as possible.

“How did you spot me?”

“Your perfume.”

She frowns. “My perfume?”