Page 147 of Modern Romance Collection March 2025 (1-4)

But then he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, and the naked emotion in his gaze derailed her train of thought completely.

‘I’m sorry, Melody. I exploited our chemistry that night. And then I behaved like an insensitive arse. I wish I could go back and undo it all, but I can’t. My only defence, and it’s a pathetic one, is that I was in a bad place at the time.’

His hand slipped away but she caught his fingers and held on.

‘I don’t…’ she swallowed, his surprised expression forcing her to say it all ‘… I don’t wish you could undo it. Well, not all of it, anyway.’

A part of her would always be hurt by his decision to propose to Isabelle so soon after, even though she very much doubted the two things had been related. After all, he’d probably slept with a ton of women since that proposal had been rejected, and it wasn’t as if he had loved Isabelle. ‘You made my first time memorable, that’s for sure,’ she finished, which was the understatement of the century, but she didn’t need to stroke his ego too much.

At least she could finally see that night for what it was—a livewire chemical connection—instead of what she had wanted it to be and it never could have been—a romantic one.

He rubbed his thumb across her lips, his gaze sharpening. ‘You need to be careful, Melody. Because, in the interests of full disclosure, I still want you. A lot.’

Heat surged as the memories from that night—and two nights ago, when he had satisfied her again—pulsed along her nerve-endings.

‘Do you really?’ she said, unable to resist the urge to flirt.

He let out a gruff laugh, acknowledging the hit, then captured her wrist to tug her closer.

‘I should also warn you,’ he said, the husky words part threat, part promise, ‘I have been bored out of my brain for the whole day.’ He glanced out of the kitchen window. ‘And it seems we may be trapped here…together…for at least another night. And now that we’ve declared a truce, and I’m not exhausted, I can think of all sorts of interesting ways to entertain ourselves.’

She took her time studying the weather, too. Adrenaline surged, because the vicious swirling snow outside no longer felt like a trap but an opportunity. The storm had cocooned them here in a place out of time. So why not take the chance to rewrite the mistakes of their past and enjoy this connection once more, before moving on? After all, they’d proved quite comprehensively a few nights ago they still had an exciting physical connection. And while she couldn’t take back her white lie now without looking like a fool, a selfish part of her wanted him to acknowledge that when their time together here was over.

‘Hmm, yes, you could be right about the weather,’ she said, being deliberately coy, despite the fact that her pulse was battering all her erogenous zones now with even more fervour than the icy wind battering the glass.

His fingers gripped her chin and redirected her gaze to his. ‘I have the perfect distraction to help us pass the time, Mel,’ he murmured, his voice so husky she could feel it vibrating in her sex.

‘Oh, do you, now?’ she whispered back, although her own voice was so hoarse she wasn’t fooling anyone any more, least of all him. ‘And what distraction would that be?’

He stood up so suddenly his stool crashed to the floor. His gaze darkened with the intensity she had always found so intoxicating. ‘You know damn well, you minx,’ he said in the bossy tone she had found so aggravating on New Year’s Eve.

She wasn’t finding it aggravating any more. Quite the opposite, in fact.

He grasped her wrist and tugged her off her own stool, then banded his arm around her hips to drag her against him and cradle the growing ridge in his pants against her belly.

‘Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?’ he asked, the rough tone no longer amused. No longer smug.

‘Actually, yes.’ She ground herself against the delicious hardness, the feral urge to make him suffer almost as exciting as his lust-blown pupils.

Rene would always be a complex, fascinating and exciting man. But she didn’t need or want him to beherman. Not any more. The pleasure he could give her, though—when he set his mind to it—had always been intoxicating and undeniable.

Giving in to that combustible chemistry wasn’t dangerous any more. Because they were equals now. She wasn’t a virgin, and she wasn’t as naïve or as gullible as she had been four years ago. Nor was she as insecure. Because she had a job she adored and was good at, and she understood exactly now what sleeping with him meant… And what it never could.

Rene Gaultiere would never marry for love, or propose to a nobody like her. Nor did she want him to. Because she knew now what men like him—men who were closed-off emotionally and who would discard her, the way her father had once discarded her—could do to her confidence and self-respect if she became emotionally invested.

But Rene Gaultiere, the playboy prince, a man she knew could deliver when it came to no-holds-barred, dirty, sweaty sex was another matter.

He groaned, the loser again, then grasped her hips to hold her steady. ‘Okay, I surrender. Don’t do that unless you are going to let me ravish you, or I may actually explode.’

She laughed, the joyous laugh of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it.

She draped her arms over his broad shoulders, inhaling the intoxicating scent of soap and man and musk, and ran her fingernails across his nape, determined to be the hunter this time, as well as the willing prey. His vicious shiver emboldened her. She skimmed her thumb down the side of his face, the beard growth rasping against the pad, and imagined all the ways she wanted to ravish him, too.

‘In the interests of full disclosure…’ she teased, more than ready to exercise her newfound power, ‘…it just so happens I found an unopened box of condoms in my dresser drawer.’

His eyes flared with a feral passion which matched her own. ‘I’m going to take that as a yes,’ he said, then bent to scoop her over his shoulder.

She kicked and struggled, but it was all for show this time.

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