Page 25 of Modern Romance Collection March 2025 (1-4)

“You do not churn your own ice cream?” he asked sarcastically.

But she didn’t know why that would be sarcastic. She was a chef—and one who enjoyed making desserts as much as she enjoyed concocting savory items. “I do, when I have the time and supplies.”

“Of course you do.”

She put the sad little store-bought cookies at the bottom of the bowl. The premium ice cream would help elevate them…she hoped. She put a scoop into each bowl.

“Why are you making me comfort food? I’d think you were trying to treat me like a child, but you’re making yourself one.”

“There is nothing childish about wanting a little sweet comfort after a difficult encounter,” Lynna said loftily. “I know I am little more than a pathetic, pudgy servant girl—”

“I know you don’t actually believe those things about yourself, Lynna,” he said, almost reproachfully.

“No, I don’t.”

“But let the record show—”

“What record?”

“I happen to think you’re beautiful, forceful, and an utterly remarkable chef and businesswoman.”

She hated that each compliment landed withforce, as if she’d spent her entire life waiting for someone to notice what she thought to be true. Which felt far too close to a vulnerability that would leave her doing nothing but repeating her father’s mistakes.

She kept her gaze studiously on her creations, no matter how much some strange internal impulse made her want to look up at him.

“You needn’t butter me up for me to participate in the war against your father. If I wasn’t already enlisted, tonight would have done it.”

“I am notbutteringanything. I am merely stating facts.” Athan shrugged, as if it made no difference to him whether she believed that or not. “That was remarkable, though,” he finally managed, sounding more like his insouciant self. “Acting as though you were waiting for me to return to bed. An amazing performance. I applaud and thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

“No, of course not.” There was a twisted kind of amusement for the way he said that, but she couldn’t quite make sense of it.

She finished off the sundae, slid it across the counter to him. “If he does call the police, and there are questions,Iam a witness. I will tell them that your father was about to attack me, and you acted in my defense. Perhaps it’s an exaggeration, but it isn’t much of one.”

Athan studied her with steady eyes. When he spoke it was softly, carefully.

“You will make yourself a target, Lynna. My father is a formidable opponent. You were never meant to be anything more than…well, that pawn you mentioned.”

“A shame for you then, as I have no plans on being a pawn.” She met his gaze with a fierce one. “From here on out, Athan, I am your partner.” A partnership with an Akakios was dangerous, but Lynna was no fool. If she was going to beinthis, it was time to beinit.

A willing participant. Aware of the risks. The target she might become. Maybe she’d get burned in the process, but if Rhys had a future, and she could avenge her father in some way, her burns would be worth it.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Hisfather’sretaliationdid not come in the form of police intervention or a lawsuit. Instead, Constantine used the press.

Athan’s assistant was ready the moment he emerged from his room the next morning, armed with the story.

“So far, no legitimate news source has picked it up, sir, but the internet is having a field day with a father-son brawl.”

“Brawl,” Athan said disgustedly. “Don’t I wish.” It would have solved nothing, but it would havefeltspectacular. And still, it grated, how easily Constantine had played him last night.

Athan knew he would have reacted in a protective way to any woman in that situation—and no doubt his father did as well.Thathad been one of Athan’s many failings in Constantine’s eyes.

It was disgusting, and Athan would not stand by while any woman was demeaned in such a way no matter what the consequences.

But the tide of fury at his father daring to reach out toward Lynna, the need to immediately stop the look of shock and disgust on her face at his father’s actions, it had all been so quick—the moment, the white-hot, all-encompassing fury that had shot through him. He had not thought at all. He had been too rough, too…reckless.

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