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Modern Romance November 2026 Books 1-4

Page 91

by Caitlin Crews

Now he watched her. When he’d barely looked at her before yesterday, now he watched her almost all the time and she was tempted to ask him the same. Only it couldn’t matter what he was thinking. Yet he was her husband and now she was having all kinds of shocking thoughts. She needed a break but being trapped on a luxury island made that difficult. It was remote and intimate and she was afraid of losing herself in his immense magnetic pull. As it was she couldn’t tear her gaze from his because it wasn’t the usual slicing judgement, but a decidedly warm look.

‘I’m going for a walk,’ she whispered.

His mouth compressed as she swiftly rose.

‘You can run away again, Tilly, but you’ll have to face it some time.’

She paused at the door. ‘Face what?’

When he didn’t reply she turned and saw he’d changed the image on the screen to a single photo. Her stomach flipped. This one hadn’t been in the selection they’d sent. They were plastered together in the water. Her hands were threaded through his hair, while his arms were clamped around her. Her eyes were closed, her kiss-bruised lips parted as he kissed her neck. Passion radiated from the image. Raw. Real.

He pushed a button and the picture expanded to fill the screen, taking over the whole freaking world. ‘You’re going to have to face this.’

Chapter Ten

There was no this. Those feelings weren’t real for him. But then, why did he look at her with such heat? Tilly fled. It wasn’t only his torment that she was escaping but the fact that he’d briefly sounded compassionate—empathetic. The possibility that Alex might understand something of how she’d felt, that he might have experienced moments where it was all he could do to survive, clashed against what she’d long needed to believe about him. She needed to keep him as a caricature—Alex the Wild, the arrogant—even unkind. But one thoughtful comment threatened everything. And it was more than one thoughtful comment.

She would avoid him, pretend she was alone on his damned island. She also avoided the steep track down to the secret heart of Zaffira. Instead she strode in the opposite direction, taking a track that led her to the top of the rocky outcrop. She took in the panoramic views of Montaurella, then turned. The lookout also gave her a bird’s eye view of the island—its crescent shape, the compound at the base of the fortress with that large swimming pool and convivial-looking ‘town’ square with tables and chairs set in the shade of tall cypresses. Then she noticed a building down the hill with a portion of the bronzed terrain fenced behind it. It hadn’t been visible from Alex’s glass nest, but she knew what it was and she picked the most direct track.

On the third day after she’d moved in to dimoro miele she’d been desperate to find a few moments of privacy, a place to finally, fully relax. She’d been terrified, wary of disappointing her mother by not making the right impression on the King, the courtiers, the whole world. She’d already met Erik, but Alex had been away at university and she’d been warned he wasn’t happy that his father was marrying her mother so soon after the death of his. She’d gone for an early morning walk and stumbled across the stables by accident. She’d never ridden but she knew both princes played polo through Europe. It had been another world—cool and inviting and full of shadows.

Hot from her route march, now she went into Alex’s stables here on Zaffira. Her jaw dropped. The vast building had a double-height ceiling. The wooden rails were polished to a mirror-like gleam. Half-bales of hay were outside each massive stall. A horse whinnied and she heard a gentle stomp from another stall as she walked in. No sign of any other humans though, thankfully. She went further into the building, happy to see a basin. She drank and patted water on her face. Then walked the rest of the long corridor, looking at each horse resting in its large stall. At the last, largest stall, she stopped. She leaned on the gate to hold up her suddenly jelly legs. She’d seen this magnificent creature once before.

He’s my horse.

Now, just as that time before, she heard heavy footsteps behind her. But this time, she didn’t turn to face him.

‘You want to ride?’ He moved into place right beside her.

She shook her head.

No one rides him but me. Understand?

‘I don’t believe you. You’re drawn to him.’ Alex reached out and the horse came over immediately, nudging its nose into his shoulder. Alex gently murmured something Tilly didn’t want to hear. Not Alex being kind.

‘I’m scared of horses,’ she said.

‘You’re scared of failure.’

‘Thanks, Freud. I’m sure you’ll agree that’s fairly normal for someone in my position.’

‘What position’s that?’ He sounded amused.

‘A position of limited power. Especially compared to a beast like that. He’s beautiful, but deadly.’

‘You think he’s going to eat you?’ Alex snorted. ‘Tear you limb from limb?’

‘Toss me like a rag doll and leave me broken in a heap on the ground.’

‘Not Trevor. He looks more intimidating than he is. He’s a gentle giant.’

‘Trevor?’ she scoffed. She’d not learned his name last time.

‘He is skittish,’ Alex conceded. ‘Needs a firm touch.’

‘I’m not interested in whips.’

‘But he likes the attention.’ He tensed. ‘If you like, I’ll teach you.’