Page 68 of Modern Romance June 2025 5-8

Being around him was like standing before an approaching thunderstorm. Everything felt charged and weighted with anticipation.

Annalena rubbed her hands up her arms as she left the formal gardens and stepped onto the springy turf of the private royal park. Ahead, a sweep of grass curved between stands of large trees to where afternoon sunlight glittered on a small lake.

She paused, inhaling the scent of growing things, then exhaling some of her tension.

Soon he’d have to acknowledge the truth and they’d come to an agreement. Then she could leave.

She didn’t want to spend another night in his palace.

Down near the lake, they’d said.

What was she doing there, far from the palace buildings? Was this a tactic to make him come to her? To show she had the upper hand?

That would be petty and, despite the earthquake of disruption Annalena of Edelforst had caused, he didn’t think her that.

Troublesome, yes.

Worrying.

An absolute disaster, for his country and everything Benedikt was trying to do here.

Yet despite the shockwaves still reverberating through him, not all his thoughts about Annalena were negative.

Because those thoughts don’t come from your brain, but a more primitive part of your body.

Her combination of touch-me-not condescension and earnestness, not to mention a mouth created for kissing, kept distracting him. Her eyes flashed and her cheeks flushed when she spoke about the hydroelectric project and he’d wondered what else would excite her passion.Whoelse.

If she knew, would she use his distraction to her advantage?

She was here to negotiate, or said she was. A savvy negotiator turned any weakness to their advantage. He needed to do the same.

Benedikt paused by the water. She was nowhere in sight but must be close. Somewhere nearby security staff were keeping a discreet eye on her. They hadn’t reported her trying to leave.

That was one positive at least. One positive out of a minefield of negatives.

He ploughed a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe how the day had unfolded. One after another, facts had been assembled and the truth he’d believed all his life distorted into something completely different.

But he didn’t have the luxury of personal feelings. He had a nation to consider. That had to be his focus.

A sound caught his attention and he headed towards it, pine needles muffling his footsteps. He heard muttering then an off-key voice softly singing the refrain from a hard-rock anthem of a decade ago.

Benedikt paused. It couldn’t be…

But he knew that voice. That husky, unmusical, but strangely beguiling voice belonged to the buttoned-up woman who threatened his country’s peace and prosperity.

It made her seem approachable. Vulnerable. Not the keen-eyed competitor ready to rip the kingdom from his hands. Nor the foe whose femininity sidetracked him.

He stepped into the forest and there she was, squatting before a large tree, phone in hand, photographing something on the ground. The singing became a periodic hum as she shifted her weight, leaning in for a better picture.

Benedikt rocked back on his feet, taking in the view. She wore a T-shirt of dark khaki and jeans that clung taut against the curves of her backside, hips and thighs.

He swallowed and shifted his weight.

He must’ve made a noise because she swung round, twisting on the balls of her feet, her long ponytail flying across her shoulder.

Thereshe was, the woman he’d seen on her driver’s licence. Surprised but not uneasy, features alight. The set of her shoulders, the glow in her eyes and the curve of her lips told him she was happy.

Or had been until he’d appeared. He watched two tiny vertical lines appear above the bridge of her nose and her expression turn blank.

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