Page 161 of Modern Romance Collection March 2025 (1-4)

She took another deep breath.

Rene was staring at her now, his reaction unreadable, the only sign what she had confided had affected him at all the muscle in his cheek which kept clenching and releasing. Maybe he was embarrassed with her oversharing, maybe he was bored, but even if he didn’t need or want to hear this, she needed and wanted to tell him.

‘So yes, I lied about that night,’ she said. ‘And I’m sorry I made you think, even for a moment, you might have done something terrible…’ Although she couldn’t help wondering now why he would have gone there, assumed he would even be capable of something so unconscionable. Perhaps that overreaction was a clue to all the things he had never been prepared to talk about to her. The monsters he had fought in those nightmares but refused to admit were real.

She was too weary now, though, and too scared—at the thought of having to spend days with him on some private island, knowing the yearning was still there—to think about any of that.

‘I was protecting myself, Rene. I didn’twantto get in too deep. To rely on you at all. And I was right. So, if you think I’m going to go to this island with you—on theoutsidechance that Imightbe pregnant, after the crappy way you’ve treated me…then I’m telling you now. I won’t. Not until you at least give me an explanation as to why you thought it was okay to abandon me again without a word.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

RENE STARED ATthe woman in front of him, not sure what to say in his own defence. Her honesty had floored him, but the sadness in her eyes was crucifying him.

He’d been livid this morning when he’d seen the photographs—which he’d spent twenty-four hours using every resource and legal avenue at his disposal trying to have destroyed—plastered all over the internet. The more reputable sources had at least blurred out Mel’s nudity, but many others had not. The headlines, though, had been predictable and salacious. And all of them far more critical of Melody’s behaviour than his:The Prince and the PA’s Secret Snowbound Love Shack! The Queen’s Ambitious PA Snares a Prince! Rescued at Last…but Did She Want to Be?

He didn’t really care about the hit to his own reputation. It wasn’t as if the press or the usual keyboard warriors on social media had ever taken him seriously—and, in truth, given his past behaviour, he had brought most of that negative attention on himself. But Melody’s vilification—a woman whose status and lack of experience of this kind of exposure made her much more vulnerable than him—had made him feel sick. The sight of those intrusive photos had also triggered vivid memories of Melody not just in his bed yesterday morning, but under him on the white rug that first night, cradling him as he thrust heavily inside her…

And suddenly the impotence and shame and fury had increased tenfold. And he’d known he could not stay away from her a moment longer.

The fury though had not just come from her lie about that first night in the chalet, but the growing fear that he might have done something unforgivable. A fear which had morphed into anger during the frantic arrangements to figure out a way to protect Mel, deal with the repercussions of that night and get them both as far away as possible from the viral storm.

The decision to whisk her away to Mermaid Cay—because it was the only place he could think of where they could be alone until the publicity blitz blew over—had been a kneejerk one. But he could see now that decision and the possibility of a pregnancy had also been a convenient excuse to insist on privacy and seclusion.

But as she stared back at him now, with the sheen of tears in her eyes, the last of the excoriating anger deflated, until all he had left was the fear.

He needed to protect her. And if she was pregnant they would have to figure out what to do about it. But his intentions had not been entirely altruistic, or unselfish. Because he still wanted her.

Something had happened in that cabin which had blindsided him. And it hadn’t just been the sex, however much he might want to believe that.

When she had announced with that crack of pain in her voice that he was the only man she had ever slept with, it had delighted him on one level while also adding to his fear. Because he could see all her vulnerabilities—after she had laid them bare with honesty and openness and the kind of genuine, unsullied emotion which he had never possessed. Nevercouldpossess.

Her tale of the bastard who had fathered her and then deserted her was far too reminiscent of the thoughtless way he had treated her—by walking away four years ago, while protecting himself, and two days ago, while persuading himself he was trying to protect her.

A part of him knew that the decent thing to do now would be to let her go. Free her from the toxic legacy not just of her own father’s callous behaviour but also his own. But he had never been a decent man… And, frankly, how could he do that when she might be pregnant with his heir?

Stop lying to yourself. This isn’t about a possible pregnancy. It isn’t even about your guilt over those photos and your failure to stop them. This is about your inability to put her needs above your own.

He sucked in a breath and forced himself to face the truth.

He didn’twantto let her go. Not yet. He’d tried to do that over the last twenty-four hours, and it had only made her situation worse—and the yearning more intense. If nothing else, they needed this break to finally deal with the obsession they had fallen into with each other.

If she was pregnant he would demand marriage—and make the engagement real. But he would never be whole, never be able to offer her more than physical pleasure and financial support, would never have the courage to be honest and unafraid, not to mention dependent on another human being. Because his father had beaten those sensibilities out of him a long time ago.

But he owed her at least some of the truth if he was going to persuade her to get on the damn plane, because he could see the usual stubbornness in her eyes, as well as the hurt he had caused.

‘Melody, I left that morning because the police confirmed my suspicions about the drone. I was desperate to have the photos destroyed, if possible, before anyone could publish them—so getting back here as soon as I could was important.’ He ran his thumb down the side of her neck, felt her delicious shudder. ‘I’m only sorry I failed to find the bastard before he sold those photos to the highest bidder.’

She tugged away from his touch, the hurt and confusion on her face still there. ‘Why couldn’t you come and tell me that, before you left?’

At least this question was simple to answer.

‘Because I didn’t want that bastard getting a chance to take any more photos of us together,’ he said.

‘But you could have contacted me, told me what was going on, this morning?’ she said, but she didn’t sound quite so sure any more. Or so upset.

Progress.

‘Did you want me to?’ he replied.

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