Page 227 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 1-4

She was a step ahead, glowing like a living flame under the recessed lighting.

His heart hammered and almost stopped. He wanted her so much. Needed her.

He was doing his best to show her the respect she deserved, to comfort and support her, prove he was more than the man who’d let her down. That he could be more.

But his hunger was perilously sharp.

That dress clung, showcasing every dip and curve. The metallic shimmer of bronzed orange belied the fabric’s silky softness. One whole shoulder was bared and all night he’d been tempted to bend his head and taste her there.

Even her upswept hair, with a few coiling tendrils left to flirt around her neck, turned him on. He wanted to plunge his hands into her curls and drag them down. He wanted to peel the dress from her body. Did the bow on the shoulder undo? He imagined releasing it, her breasts spilling into his waiting hands.

‘Did you mean it, Dido?’

She turned and the flame dress flared around her legs. His heart thundered to a stop. This woman!

‘That I’d be the only woman in your bed?’ She swallowed and for a second he read fragility, before her chin came up and she moved towards him, green eyes ablaze. ‘Yes.’

The only woman. ‘You’ll be mine. You’ll be my wife.’ It should have been a question but it sounded like a command.

‘Yes.’

His step brought him flush against her and he grabbed her waist, unable to deny himself any longer. ‘Yes,’ he repeated. ‘Mine.’

Her pupils dilated and heat slicked through his body. ‘You sound possessive.’

His hands began to rove. ‘I am. And you like it.’

Her brow furrowed. ‘I shouldn’t. I’m my own woman. I don’t take orders.’ Then slowly a smile curved her mouth. ‘But I like you needing me.’

‘You’re possessive too.’

He felt it in the clutch of her hands against his upper arms and the way her eyes devoured him. Even so he held his breath until she inclined her head. ‘Yes. When those women were plotting how to seduce you I felt—’

‘I know. Even when we separated I couldn’t forget you.’ She’d haunted him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. ‘For three years the thought of you with some other man made me feel sick.’

Her eyes rounded, then she whispered, ‘There was no other man. Even when I hated you I couldn’t…’

Relief stormed through him like a runaway train, obliterating everything else. ‘Just like I couldn’t be with any other woman after you.’ Her lips parted and he stiffened, for even that ratcheted up his hunger. ‘I’ve never wanted any woman as much as I want you, Dido.’

And now he held her in his arms, watching the glow in her eyes turn into wildfire. She shifted, her supple body pressing closer and he groaned, fingers digging into soft flesh through thin fabric.

Panos bent his head and their mouths collided. The kiss was hard, feverish and deep. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. His hands swooped and stroked, moulding every curve and sleek line.

She grabbed his head as if fearing he might end the kiss. She slid her thigh up his and hooked her heel around his leg, opening herself to him.

That was all it took to tip him over the edge. He grabbed her bottom and hoisted her up, hip to hip, heat to heat. Swinging around, he moved until her back was to the wall, wedging her hard against him.

Every sense was inflamed at the feel of her, the humming growl vibrating from her throat and into his mouth, the honey-rich scent of aroused woman.

‘I can’t wait,’ he gasped against her mouth, telling himself to stop, to step back, even as one hand found her breast, capturing her beaded nipple.

Instead of shocking, the admission seemed to galvanise her. She tilted her head, licking deep into his mouth then drew on his tongue, sucking hard. Electricity jolted through him and everything faded but the fire in his groin and the feel of her pelvis shifting against his.

‘Yes!’ she whispered against his mouth as she reached for his belt.

What came next was clumsy and frantic but finally naked flesh met naked flesh as she clung, arms and legs encircling him. Something flickered in the back of his mind, some thought he couldn’t grasp, but then she took him in her soft hand and guided him to her.

Thought died. There was just him and Dido. He was lost in her green gaze, her soft body. With one urgent buck of the hips he drove home and that was exactly how it felt—like coming home to her.